We fashion savvy?

‘You are what you wear’. The statement packs quite a punch; attention to the least of the fashion inclined lot. No, this is no marketing ploy. Don’t get me wrong. Look at it from the sociological, philosophical, materialistic point of view and any other way that you desire but what you wear, and more importantly how you wear it may and will dictate the way you define yourself, or let others draw an impression of you. Let’s address the audience with a loudspeaker here that ‘fashion’ has not been able to carve a position and maintain its presence in our country in any way that would flip the switches of the limelight in our direction. We are prejudiced against fashion. Can we come up with any more extraordinarily convincing reasons to the contrary? I’ll bet my new Armani suit-No!

 As the clock ticks the concept of fashion metamorphoses like the many faces do in one of Michael Jackson’s video songs dating back to the 90’s - black or white to be precise. Time has been the most outrageously significant parameter for the ever changing faces of how people would like to see themselves as a reflection to themselves, and of course in others’ eyes. So, time prompts me once more to have a little chitter-chatter on how my clothes and yours may weave any magic into our day to day lives.

 “She is wearing white pants”. It compliments her perfectly; an all-dignified and appropriate look. Not screaming for attention nor stopping you from reluctantly blurting out- “Gee, that’s one nice pair of pants!” Or maybe, “She looks stunning”. Don’t we so often end up saying something like this? I doubt it if you didn’t want to wear the attire to express your personality, a constant assurance of comfort for yourself in that environment in your office, at that wedding party, for that date, for that party, for that casual walk, and maybe even for that snooze! Trust me you are no less aware then me of the fact that the right clothes, more importantly the right combination, could always give you the upper hand in your every day affairs. It may come off as shallow but the propagated reality is that your clothes, and your art of putting it into place paints a significant image of your personality in people’s minds. Remember every time you meet someone new, your particular sense of clothing, your hairstyle, or rather your fashion-sense gives away more about you then you can imagine. Now to be honest what we have certainly been able to achieve is to mimic the fashion-sense depicted to us via satellite TV. But then again we fall short when it comes to pulling off what we really see. We pay very little attention to the image we’re portraying of ourselves when we’re duped into thinking that we’re so looking like that certain celebrity who landed on our TV screen the other day. Fashion tips are always simple as A,B,C. Find something that you’re comfortable with first, then make sure it complements your physique and skin tone, and yes of course something that will pronounce your individuality.
 Fashion in Bangladesh has never caused a stir. The prophets of fashion being few and far apart and our projection of ourselves left to its own devices, driving us in to choosing, picking and putting on, and mistakenly flaunting anything and everything that decently covers the skin.

Here’s a frail fashion-life-line for our ailing fashion trends. Aarong, Kay Kraft, Shada Kalo, Cats eye, Ecstasy, Anjans, Soul dance, and a host of other names. Brands, yes, the Kelvin Kleins, Armanis, Lacostes, Tommy Helfeigers, Guccis of our country! These I should say are filling in an otherwise void in our ‘fashion world’. An ardent supporter of constructive criticism won’t be shy to mention that ‘fashion sense’ in our country is still at its budding stages.
Unlike the neighboring Bollywood our entertainment industry has been a circus to date. So, all apologies accepted for the sloppy fashion sense out there. With Bollwood dictating our fashion tastes we are plunging into a fuzzy territory.. We do not for once think what would actually make us look good. On the contrary we think we have to conform to something that is being fed to us. With the relentless efforts of the advocates of fashion in our country the process is indeed gaining pace. So, let’s go out there, do some thinking and create a new sense of fashion; one that defines the true beauty inside us. Fashion not only to transform you into a world of glitz and glamour. Fashion not to give you the illusion of becoming someone else. But fashion to blend the values of your culture and heritage. Fashion to set the nation into a majestic art.

A pharmaceutical love potion!

A fragrance, that when possesed, will bring love and adulation to its owner. That’s what Jean -Baptiste Grenouille obsessively sought to achieve in the movie ‘Perfume’ based on Patrick Suskinds best selling novel of the same title. Straying away a trifle from Patrick suskinds character set your imagination free and think of a potion that could give you that edge, to bring you that much craved love from the special one you fancy. That must sound a little awkward to all those down-to-earth-will-you-stop-that-nonsense kind of people out there. But, in truth, secretly deep down don't we terribly wish that 'love' worked for us. That, our other half, imaginary or not, wanted us like mad? Veterans of a lengthy version of the 'love experience' will lazily think something of a form that might sound like this: Of course, even a love fever that's healthily shared recedes eventually, for even a fever is only a fleeting response to an infection from love. Or, how about those who're so fanatically obsessed with this someone, so overwhelmed by it, rightly or wrongly so, that telling such a lover that it's time to knock it off can be futile--as futile as admonishing a drunk to put a cork in it’s bottle! Love has ruled in the past, the present, in music, poetry, paintings, philosophy and religion, sculptor and literature. Psychology has also attempted to unearth the essence of love, just like what anthropology, neuroscience and many more have also done to it.

What is love? It is one of 'the most' murky areas for mankind to explore. Centuries have passed by, relationships have bloomed and so has love. But no one can crack the mystery of love. To some Love is a roller-coaster ride, to others it’s a blazing friendship, for others, Maybe love is like lottery. You might just be lucky to find it. Some may go to great lengths to hail love in ways only more discernible to those who have experienced it- who can claim to be a part of this elite feeling.
A dreamy, peaceful and tranquil world beholds me...the soft soothing touch of a sudden gentle breeze lifts my love spoilt heart and sends it into a joyful swing..
A million crystal baby drops of rain face me, kiss me, tingle me, as I wink upwards into the vast expanse of the majestic skies...
I lay, in a rain washed boulevard, draped in a satin shroud of a cool, delicate, feathery feeling...yet insatiable… the desire for something..
The desire for oneness with you......
Poets would have us believe that love is one of those things that is beyond comprehension. For those of you perplexed by love's elusiveness, take heart: Science is on the case. Scientists say love can be explained by a chain of neurochemical reactions in specific brain areas. That ought to be riveting! Does that-- does that mean-- We could perhaps finally hope to bid ‘aurevoir’ to our misery of not being able to make it 'click'. Nor will we any longer have to rely on oysters or chocolates to create a loving mood! Instead, it will be possible for scientists to develop aphrodisiacs - chemicals that would make people fall in love with the first person they see, or rather the first person they want to see. And for those who have fallen in love with someone they shouldn't have fallen in love with, an antidote to this love. But even if researchers fancy ‘wheelbarrowing’ love to the lab, will they be able to bottle it? Scientists say, there are hundreds of signaling molecules in the brain - they all play in different brain areas. They believe a greater understanding of how all these chemicals interact and act in specific brain areas that have specific functions that give rise to these complex emotions will be achieved once they’re studied more intensely. Researchers have found that oxytocin, a hormone, is involved in the bonding of male and the female prairie voles, which like humans, form an intense bond with each other that lasts for a very long time. And there have been studies in humans that show that oxytocin increases trust between couples. So, it makes sense that the same sort of molecule might be involved in strengthening the bond between individuals. Well but still that doesn’t equip us with a full understanding of what love is. And there are other chemicals involved too - it is just a matter of delving into it and finding out which ones they are. It is also known that Oxytocin increases eye gaze, increases our ability to recognize emotions in others. It may actually enhance our ability to form relationships, and so it is a very real possibility that something like oxytocin could be used with marital therapies to bring back that magic. There are already existing perfumes on the market containing oxytocin, but the levels are far too low for it to be an effective aphrodisiac. But researchers think in the future they can develop drugs that readily pass into the brain and can target certain brain areas that could accomplish this. It will become increasingly possible to manipulate the neurological mechanisms that play a role in creating the emotional bonds between people. Used constructively such interaction between man and drugs could enhance human experience and provide respite from unnecessary suffering.
However, this kind of juggling within science would raise a thicket of ethical and cultural issues, which would need to be carefully considered. The ‘computations’ required to manipulate love, right now, are not feasible enough to shuttle it to us in pills. Therefore, don’t hurry to your pharmacist: No not Yet...However for those of you who got your hopes very high here's some consolation- All you have to do is walk into a bar and get drunk. People look quite different. But sorry! It doesn't last…..

Hope....

The taunting earth had swallowed this vulnerability,

The dark clouds had consumed this fragility,

The precious breath was strangled in the depths of murky waters,

Sobbing hope trembled, desperately sought refuge , 

In fear and pain it winced,

Heaved sighs satisfying forlorn lungs; a tumultous anguish in this existence,

The howling winds had battered this helplessness; its deafening screams shuddering all strength,

The ruthless cold had numbed this innocence,

The stinging venom had paralysed this valuable world,

No, rise from the mocking arms of defeat,

break out of the shackles of tyranny, the chains of opression,

Belligerent hope; it clambers through beaten paths and intimidating mountains ,

Conquering the road to freedom with steps of defiance,

Victory, was only in abeyance; concealed in the hidden chest of times,

Hope you shall, emerge with punishing victory.

Verona

Juliet..oh juliet...thou art so impatient. I was headed to meet her in verona at romeo n juliet road, but my Juliet was already at our balcony. And reaching there first she virtually wanted me to teleport myself to the same spot, which was stressed over and over again from the messages she sent through 'pigeonette'. 

'Where you?, How long is it gonna take you to get here?" she kept saying. And why not? pigeonette had to be kept busy, else she'd doze off to sleep every time Juliet thought of Romeo which is blasphemous. And the only other way to bring her back to our world was to smack her hard on her butt with a clonk. Now no matter how I hard I scrambled to tell Juliet that I was going to be united with her very soon, she found it very unconvincing. So much so that she wanted to come here herself, grab me and plant me where I should be- with her in the magic balcony! Not that I wanted to be there any less, but life as cruel as it always is, I was travelling in a primitive mode of transport called the ' tortoiseshaw'- well it's not driven by a tortoise but a homosapien resembling one- no no not in appearance but in terms of pace. Yea, that's right. So, I hoped pigeonette could mediate the situation till I got to her....

So, I could see her. But she couldn't see me. The evil cousin zaaradas would have chuckled at that, much like Smeagle the angry little monster. Oh see came out of her balcony-it's four-wheeled and it moves! Don't laugh, it moves pretty fast. So she gets down from the balcony to greet me. See I'm not good with colors. NO I'M NOT COLOR BLIND.  Was that the evil cousin muttering something in my ear again. Grrr....But yea as I was saying, umm...it's something of a green shade with various other complementing colors, with the like of red, golden..umm..yea something like that forming a nice blend on the dress she wore. We walked through the boulevards of Verona arm in arm, and heart in heart. 

With the golden streaks of sunlight falling on her face I saw a b-e-a-utiful pair of eyes. Yes, that of Juliet! How come I never noticed them before? I was speaking to them from time to time. What intervened however were the by passers of Verona. Let me tell you they are somewhat of a pain in the ass. Yep, they are. Don't they just love feasting their eyes on the famous 'Romeo and Juliet' . I was biting my minds lip, cursing myself for having left my pen at home. For, neither they nor us had a pen with ourselves in case they wanted to have an autograph from the lovers of Loverdom. Anyways, my obsession with Juliet and her stunning feet slowly huddled me away into places with billboards saying ' sensible thoughts'. 

Balcony, balcony, take us forth to a serene land not infested by rude passerbys of Verona. And there we are at paddystalk road no. 7. Add to that we are blessed by the great snack of the great country called foochka-no it's not chinese food, and lickpoti-no you don't lick food out of a pot. So there we indulge into giving our tummies a short good time. For they say, 'No food, no love'. 

And as Romeo and Juliet tour their love-filled day through the roads of Paddystalk they end up in nandos. Sounds like the alien land I once ruled in Facebook called nanoidas. Well I invented that name, thought that would be a nice name for a land of nanoids. May 10 naans?Don't no why the call nandos, nandos though. Anyways, we were ushered in and seated by a amiable lady of 10 naans. Romeo and Juliet talked for what seemed like a few seconds despite that the clock had a different story to tell. They sipped on a 'goa lemon' - Oh got the spelling right, I was thinking of boa(the snake?)lemon all along, and then a pomegranate-crushed-into-sprite-thingy-which-I-could-make-at-home. Well, sorry for forgetting what it's called, but I was trying to remember it with visual associations so this is what I come up with. Well that's not the important part anyway. All that mattered was being able to say in my heart: I love thee Juliet. I love thee. Oh and also our little war game depicted by the beautiful flowers with no smell. Juliet thinks the war was waged by the pathetic loser girl that once upon a time set eyes on Juliet's love. So three petals represented this battle, so much so that Juliet eventually forgot to bring the beautiful flowers that never had a fragrance.

And as for the 'I love thee part', well for real the best I could come up with was, j'taime. And now I feel laughing like goofy the goof. Now then better luck next time Romeo! 

The ocean

Pre-dusk purple kissed the golden sands,
the misty sprays of the gushing waves moistening the mighty land,
the land and the sea, they are but one-
the island's life being the mighty ocean
breathing in and breathing out,
every moment is a rhythmic motion-
low tide- the island now lies tranquily in a state of sedation,
You are my ocean

By

my babyluv (a write back to ' The rose')

The rose

The mesmerizing aroma of a rose,
it embraces the early morning breeze,
The dew hugging those delicate petals- they adorn it with unparalleled beauty,
The rose, it's a marriage between snowing love and the connifers of joy in the heavens of my heart,
The rose, I fear... is you, my dear...

A precious tear drop

I see, a reflection of me

It ripples across glassy waters

Glistening droplets of warm tears well up in the rims of my vision

Waiting, to set an avalanche, beating it's path down a delicate valley of hope

I embrace every tear drop, caress it tenderly- it trembles

I see, a reflection of me

It ripples across crystal-clear waters

I look into the depths 

I frantically search for this elusive something

It glimmers back and forth, across tear drops

It shimmers across the realms of an existence

I see, a reflection-not anymore of me

For it's one of two

It ripples not, across the waters

For it craddles peacefully in precious tear drops 

The heart

The heart-it’s going numb
Thought it had atrophied eons ago
Tragedy, what pitiful tragedy
The intermittent agony- it’s that messenger I fear
The heart-it tosses, turns and wriggles; it’s a painstaking affair
I tread a thin line; that between worlds I know and I know not
The brain waves, they stop to a jarring halt; my flesh and blood deserts my soul
Those neurons, they fire a zillion poisoned arrows
The heart- it’s nauseated by the blood that gushes through
Tragedy, what pitiful tragedy
A barbaric pain chokes my nerves; 
I yearn for a something to douse this sickening ache
The heart- it frantically begs for peace
Peace, it’s you that I seek; set me free
Wrap me in a cocoon of comfort; rescue me away from this dissent that’s set alight in me
Breathe into me, an iota of liberty, to mitigate this misery
The heart- it only seeks peace truly