Notes on Some 2025 Films

Image Credit: Warner Bros. Pictures

Like (almost) every other year, 2025 was an important year in film. “Important” is a loaded word and should not perhaps be thrown around loosely. In the context of this post, this word means one thing and one thing only – any work that I find appealing enough to think and write about. While the focus of this post is going to be films released this year, I am going to preface the discussion by recalling some films for which this year is a multiple-of-50 anniversary. What follows are personal reflections shaped as much by temperament and viewing circumstances as by the films themselves.

The Cosmic Relationship Conjecture: A Reappraisal of Christopher Nolan’s Films

Image Credit: charlieanders2 on Flickr

Bits and pieces of the thoughts below were put in written form starting from 2014 or so. I had shared my views in several conversations with fellow film enthusiasts over the years. With the release of each new film from Christopher Nolan, I found that I had something to say and loosely put down my thoughts in my notes. Until now, I have not felt the motivation to put together my (sometimes mental) jottings over the years in a coherent form. Now, I feel, is as good a time as any other to do so, not only because it timely – with Nolan almost certainly being awarded the highest laurel by his Hollywood colleagues later today, surely accompanied with salmon and potato salad – but also because it a good juncture in time to look at the quite remarkable – and also, in my view, quite unexpected – trajectory of his filmography in the last decade or so. Needless to say, this article is riddled with spoilers, so continue reading at your own risk.

(But how about Inception? Yes, I still stand by every word I had written in that review 13 years back, though I would certainly phrase some of my criticisms differently – I was just a schoolboy!)

Nolan started going in this new direction as early as The Dark Knight Rises, though it was not quite obvious to me upon the first watch. The film seemed strangely anomalous and haphazard, with some of its apparent deficiencies calling attention to themselves, which seemed to be quite inconsistent with my idea of Nolan as a filmmaker trying to show off his intellect to the audience with very precise – if convoluted – logical framework and clockwork precision of the narratives. Nearly all his previous films were emblematic of these tendencies, although the exquisitely built house-of-cards narrative often fell apart on closer inspection (take for instance, the contrivances in the Joker’s elaborately designed plan in The Dark Knight). In Rises, however, some of the plot holes were so prominently on exhibit that the film looked, uh, quite risible. It took me a while to appreciate that such glaring inconsistencies might have been left there somewhat “on purpose” because the maker’s attention was elsewhere. (I put the quotes in the previous sentence because I think it is often difficult to be certain about someone’s artistic intentions, even for the artist herself/himself). 

A Different Delta

(I had written this piece a little over a year ago, for an online magazine. However, the editorial team suggested some truly bizarre edits -- some of which were ideological in nature -- which would have disfigured my original article beyond recognition. Since I was not able to bring myself to subscribe to such exacting standards, the article was not published. Here is the article I had submitted, with almost no modifications; I have included and highlighted a silly error I had made.)

No, dear reader, I am not referring to the dreaded deltas you may have thought about. The delta I am talking about belongs neither to Dirac, nor to Kronecker – but to the people who are fighting an interminable battle for survival – day in and day out. I am talking, of course, about the Sundarbans, the largest delta in the world, on the Bay of Bengal. I had the wonderful opportunity of visiting remote villages in the Sundarbans and extensively interacting with their inhabitants, as I accompanied my mother on her trips to the Sundarbans for her many research projects.

My visits to the Sundarbans from my childhood have been an eye-opening experience for me – an experience that, more than any other, underlined the stark differences in privileges enjoyed between the people in that world and those in mine. Given the sad state of affairs the world is in – has always been in – we have become inured to the fact that some people live a harder life than others do. However, when it comes to the Sundarbans, “struggle for survival” is not just a throwaway phrase – it acquires a very tangible meaning. It is not only the socioeconomic situation that makes the lives of the inhabitants miserable; the most ruthless adversary they have to battle is Nature herself. Tigers, crocodiles, deadly serpents are part of their lives on a day-to-day basis. The region is ravaged by storms, cyclones, floods very frequently. Deadly diseases are rampant. In recent times, the region has been hit most severely by climate change, as rising sea levels have made several islands uninhabitable – displacing countless people.

It is a near-impossible task for me to describe the myriad complexities of the Sundarbans – and I have witnessed only a small fraction of it. In this article, I want to discuss an aspect of the Sundarbans that has fascinated me the most – its culture. To me, it is nothing short of incredible that people living such a precarious existence would protect and nurture their cultural heritage so lovingly. Mind you, their cultural activity is not merely a form of escapism – it is firmly rooted in the realities of their existence. It is nothing other than their assertion of survival.

Three goddesses reign supreme in the cultural milieu of the Sundarbans – Banbibi, Manasa and Shitala. According to the people of the Sundarbans, Banbibi saves them from the menace of tigers, Manasa from snakebites and Shitala from deadly diseases. All these deities have performance forms (known as palas) dedicated to them. The forms, growing out of propitiatory rituals, have now metamorphosed into independent performative forms, rigorously nurtured and practised as manifestations of religious faith and devotion.

Of the three goddesses, Banbibi – the Lady of the Forests – is unique to the Sundarbans for obvious reasons. Incredible as it may seem, Banbibi is worshipped by Hindu and Muslim communities alike. The people of the Sundarbans, therefore, illustrate the perfect example of a closely-knit community, which has essentially dissolved any extraneous factors of division -- an example, if emulated widely, would make the world a much happier place. God, to these people, is not an abstract entity ruling them from up above the skies – divine beings are as real as you and me. I was able to understand how important the goddess was to the people in a conversation with a villager who had once managed to escape from a tiger. He was caught by a tiger in the river when he went to the forest for collecting honey. According to him, the tiger released him the moment he shouted the name of the goddess. The villager did not appear to suffer from any delusion – the wound left by the tiger was still visible. “Banbibi keeps saving us this way,” echoed other members of his community. Who were we to say otherwise?

The performance forms dedicated to Shitala were very interesting as well. Shitala is worshipped to keep all deadly diseases, most importantly pox, at bay.  One can find temples devoted to Shitala even in Kolkata – including one near my home. The most curious aspect of the Shitala pala was the similarities -- and the dissimilarities – between the tunes that emerge from the small Shitala temples in the city and those heard in the pala.

The worship of Manasa, to me, is the most notable one to me in several respects – primarily because it offers a valuable case study in differences of perception. The legend of Manasa goes something like this: Manasa, the abandoned daughter of Lord Shiva, (this varies from legend to legend: according to some legends, she is the daughter of sage Kashyap) tries hard to be accepted as a goddess. In order to gain acceptance as a goddess, she must first be worshipped by Chand Sadagar, the rich merchant and devotee of Shiva. Strong-willed as he is, Chand Sadagar is steadfast in his refusal to worship the vile and vicious Manasa. He is ultimately coerced into worshipping her after Manasa kills all her his children.

Chand Sadagar is celebrated as a symbol of triumph of humanity against the divine by the urban atheists (a category to which I consider myself to belong). In fact, Sombhu Mitra, one of the most illustrious playwrights of Bengal, celebrates the virtues of Chand Sadagar in his most acclaimed play, Chand Baniker Pala. The perception of the people in the Sundarbans, however, is completely different. From their perspective, it is Manasa who is the victim. Manasa, the mother who protects them from serpents, is the one wronged by everyone else, they think. She is the symbol of resistance against oppression by the upper castes – a cruel reality that is as true today as it was five hundred years ago. “What wrong did Manasa do?” they ask.

Watching a performance dedicated to Manasa is simply enthralling. Without expensive visual effects or nameless body doubles at their disposal, they take a live snake in the mouth for the performance (as shown in the image; small trivia: the actor was rehearsing the performance for us in front of car headlights, as there was no electricity) – this is how important the ceremony is to them.  As I have said before, the performative forms are not merely a source of entertainment for these people – well it does entertain them, but it is so much more! In a certain sense, this is how they are able to make their lives meaningful. The labourer who incessantly toils in the field through the day gets to enact the role of a rich merchant in the evening and in doing so, pays tribute to the entity that he thinks keeps him safe. How many of us can claim to lead such a meaningful life?

The people in the villages are an epitome of kindness and warmth. The way they received and greeted us was wonderful -- they were like long-lost family members. Meeting them was as much emotionally fulfilling as witnessing their adverse situation was heart-breaking. Their indomitable spirit is something every human being should be inspired by.

I have not been to the Sundarbans in quite a while. I am now closer to the Arabian Sea than to the Bay of Bengal. But as I take the customary evening walk by the shore, a distant boat sometimes evokes even more distant memories. The people would then be heading back home after yet another hazardous day and prepare for their next performance, I guess. I wonder when I would be seeing them next. What if they could come and meet me here? Can’t the rest of the country know and get encouraged by how lovingly they preserve their cultural heritage? The Arabian Sea and the Bay of Bengal become indistinguishable for a moment, before I remember that I have to get all the Dirac and Kronecker deltas right for the next assignment.

Published Elsewhere: One Hundred Years of Exactitude

[I had written this article in article earlier this year, for the souvenir of the 42nd Reunion of the Physics Department of my university.]

Most Distant Gravitational Lens J1000+0221
[Credit: NASA, ESA, and A. van der Wel (Max Planck Institute for Astronomy)]

One Hundred Years of Exactitude

A look at the scientific method in the centenary year of Einstein’s general relativity

What does a genius look like? With pictures of Einstein at our disposal, this question has been rather easy to answer for the past hundred years or so. We think we know what makes a genius: an apparently unorthodox “brilliance” coupled with myriad eccentricities – or in other words, a madman who got lucky. We often mistake complicated for complex and the notion that Einstein’s achievements are profound because of their seeming indecipherability is so widespread that it has become absolutely essential to rescue Einstein from the tag of “genius”. Otherwise, how do we distinguish between Einstein and the kind of “genius” who philosophises about space, time, existence, human condition and whatnot in a state of intoxication? (It is not uncommon, even in the second decade of the 21st century, to find Einstein equated to that other sort of “genius”, even in many “reputed” quarters.) Why then does Einstein’s work deserve our respect? The answer is not very difficult to understand at all.

In 1905, arguably the most sacred year in the history of physics, Einstein published four papers (known as the Annus mirabilis papers) which would change the way we look at physics. It is often emphasised that Einstein shook the very foundation of all that went before him. What almost invariably goes unmentioned is the fact that his new foundation was based on the old one. It is often claimed that Einstein introduced the principle of relativity in physics with his special theory of relativity. This is laughably wrong. The principle of relativity was a cornerstone even in Newtonian mechanics, which went by the name of Galilean relativity. In fact, special relativity had to be formulated because the principle of relativity was threatened. In the words of Steven Weinberg, “the principle of relativity was not originated by the special theory of relativity, but rather restored by it”. Many think that Einstein’s theory tells us that everything is relative and tend to apply this ill-defined (also completely false) notion to different fields, usually with disastrous consequences. If special relativity tells us anything, it is the absoluteness of physical laws which retain the same form for all observers moving with uniform velocity with respect to one another.

Published Elsewhere: The Trouble with Hitch

[I had written this article in 2013, when I was in the second year of my undergraduate course, for the souvenir of the 40th Reunion of the Physics Department of my university. This was written in haste – at my seniors' insistence – and I think it shows. I hope I will be able write much longer articles on Hitch.]

The Trouble with Hitch

August 2012 was a very important month for film enthusiasts all over the world – the prestigious British film magazine, Sight & Sound, published the results of its worldwide poll (nearly 1400 critics and director were polled) for the “Greatest Films of All Time”. The list sprung a surprise for many:  Orson Welles’ Citizen Kane (1941), considered for decades the best among the best, was dethroned by Alfred Hitchcock’s Vertigo (1958). But Hitchcock’s ascent to the top spot was quickly digested. Everyone accepted that the artistry of Hitchcock is beyond the shadow of a doubt.

But should we accept that so easily? If I have learned something from my study of physics so far, it’s the important of asking questions. Physics has taught me to reject numinous vagueness, strangely appealing as it may be, in favour of clarity and precision. Before we get into the question of whether or not Hitchcock is a great artist, it’s essential to ask who a great artist is or what great art is. Let alone “art”, we are not even sure what “great” is. It’s a very subjective idea which is susceptible to wild misinterpretations. For example, the S&S poll is a survey of the personal favourites of the people polled. But to call the results the “List of Greatest Films of All Time” does an enormous disservice to great films, and to lists. We’ll not debate the problematic nature of such lists here. The curious thing is most of us take it for granted that such lists truly represent the greatest films. We like them or not, we are forced to acknowledge that, yes, the films are truly great.

Published Elsewhere: Physics is Always Right and Always Wrong

[As promised, this is the second article of mine I have dug up. I had written this piece sometime in 2013, when I was in the second year of my undergraduate course, for the alumni magazine of my high school]

Physics is Always Right and Always Wrong

On what scientific attitude really is

George Bernard Shaw once said, "Science is always wrong. It never solves a problem without creating ten more." He was absolutely right. Science is always wrong. I have to say that science has to be always wrong. Indeed, in its very capability of being always wrong does lie the essential rightness of science. That is also precisely what distinguishes it from any religion or dogma which must be true because, well, it has to be true. So it naturally follows that in science there is neither any sacred text, nor any god sitting atop Mount Olympus. But there do exist some very fundamental principles and some giants on whose shoulders we must support ourselves, and rise higher.

A very recent example will make it clearer. In September 2011, the physicists conducting the OPERA experiment (Oscillation Project with Emulsion-tRacking Apparatus) in Italy sent shockwaves through the scientific world by announcing the stunning results of their experiments with neutrino, an electrically neutral, almost massless fundamental particle. The result of their experiments suggested that the neutrinos were travelling faster than light! It was violating one of the most well known rules in all of physics, one of the two fundamental postulates formulated by Albert Einstein in his path-breaking special theory of relativity in 1905.

Naturally, the results got widespread public attention. How could it be possible? How could Einstein, the very epitome of genius, be proven wrong? I remember not-very-helpful comments on social networking sites to the effect of: "Physicists pretend that they know everything and physics is ultimate. If Einstein is wrong, physics loses all its credibility and authority. We should therefore not believe in physics and turn our attention to [something else]." The physics community received the news with immense scepticism, voiced its serious doubts on the result and repeatedly emphasised the need for further experiments before making arriving at any conclusion. These two views perfectly illustrate the difference between physics and "something else".

Published Elsewhere: The Glow of the Rising Sun

[It's been quite a while since I wrote anything on the blog, but that doesn't mean I have stopped writing. I have written many pieces in the intervening years. I did wish to write a few long-form articles exclusively for this blog but I was unable to invest the time needed for such an article because of my involvement with my studies. However, I thought I should put up all my writings on my blog. This is the first in a series of articles that have appeared somewhere else.]

(Former readers of my blog will probably remember my Japan posts. I had written this seven years back after returning from Japan. This was published on July 27 2008 in Voices, a supplement to The Statesman, a reputed Indian newspaper. To my utter surprise and delight, the 2000-word article was published untrimmed and was featured on the back page!)

The Glow of the Rising Sun

Tall skyscrapers… manufacturer of the hi-tech cameras we use… cutting-edge robotic technology… four earthquakes a day… These are the first images to invade our minds whenever we hear the word, Japan. But what I saw in Japan, what I experienced in Japan was very different and much broader than the stereotypical concepts we have about the Land of the Rising Sun.

But my journey from the Incredible India to the Beautiful Japan as a part of the Japan - East Asia Network of Exchange for Students and Youths (JENESYS) programme (a joint collaboration between the Government of India and the Government of Japan) did not start off the way I dreamt. For a variety of reasons, I was completely engulfed by anxiety and tension. I didn’t have an international phone card to talk to my family just the day before we left and neither was my baggage within the weight limit set by the airline. Thus, the pre-departure session wasn’t exactly I’d call pleasant. Just when some the difficulties were overcome a couple of hours before the departure, a greater misery awaited me. I was still not realising the absence of my family there since my mother accompanied me to New Delhi. But on May 12, 2008, at afternoon, as I entered Indira Gandhi International Airport and boarded the Japan Airlines flight no. JL 472, a very powerful sensation struck me. I was leaving my motherland for the first time and that too, without my family! I had a feeling, which was completely incomparable to anything else. I was feeling away from home and a new kind of despair enveloped me. Even the flight wasn’t a very cheerful one. But as time progressed I was so anxious and depressed that my mind went fully blank and no other bitter thought could assault me.

But all my grief vanished at once when the aircraft landed at Narita International Airport, Tokyo. I was filled with the excitement of visiting the country Rabindranath had visited decades ago. We landed in the Land of the Rising Sun just after the sunrise. But the sun remained covered by grey clouds and a new snag came up as I came out of the airport. A typhoon had hit Tokyo the day we arrived there. So, it was impossible to defend against the cold that came seeping in through the two sweaters and non-stop rainfall was even more painful.

Just as our bus advanced towards the main city all the visuals I had imagined about Japan came into full view. Tall skyscrapers, smooth roads, speeding vehicles, innumerable flyovers – Tokyo has it all. Just as I entered the main city and got excited once again, I also became immune to the terribly hostile climate. The Imperial Palace was the first place we visited in Tokyo. It was an immensely beautiful place one can never have enough of.

One of my main concerns about visiting Japan was the food. As a person not accustomed to Japanese food habits, I thought it would not be easy for me adjust with their cuisines. But, to my very pleasant surprise, this wonderful programme booked some Indian restaurants for us to have our meal.

Rabindranath Tagore: On Science, God and Truth

It’s really a great day for florists here. It’s 25 Boiśākh, 1418 today! Rabindranath Tagore turns 150 today according to the Bengali calendar. So it’s a moment for all of us to feel proud about the man who won Asia its first Nobel, who composed songs which we cannot stop listening to, wrote poetry we never forget and the man who gave the country our national anthem. But should we? Last year, on this day, I expressed my feelings about the celebration of his 150th birth anniversary. (Why do we have such fondness for multiples of twenty-five?) We have decorated the statue of Tagore with endless garlands to feel good and have only added to the halo that surrounds the “image” of Tagore. Making Tagore a divinity to worship and not a human being to discover (and re-discover and re-re-discover) is, I believe, something Tagore himself might have considered an insult.

Today, in this post, I’ll explore an aspect of Rabindranath which is rarely discussed about him, except, perhaps, in academic circles. (I had another topic on mind which is almost never in limelight, but let’s keep that for another day.) I wish to ignore all the titles, prefixes and suffixes that surround Rabindranath’s name and cut right to the heart of his ideas. It goes without saying that I am writing this also because it’s a very personal topic to me – a topic that always stirs up my thoughts. I am absolutely unqualified and incompetent to offer any conclusive viewpoint. At best, my aim is to explain why the topic matters so much to me and I don’t think I can do that very well because some of these ideas are way beyond my comprehension.

Thoughts on Inception

I start my film-reviewing session of 2011 with two sci-fi movies which couldn’t be more different from each other. Released in two consecutive summers, both movies were admired by the critics and audiences alike. Enthusiasts on the Internet (to be polite) greeted the films words like “awesome”, “masterpiece”. However, what I feel about these movies has nothing to do with the general reaction to the movies or the backlashes and counter-backlashes or the publicity machinery behind these movies. (I dislike the word “overrated”.) I wish to describe my thoughts and emotions based only on the images and sounds that appeared before me. Here's the review of one of the movies. Needless to say, this review most likely contains important plot points i.e. SPOILERS, if such things matter to you. So read on only if you wish to.

Inception (2010)
Written and directed by: Christopher Nolan

Most detractors of Inception pin down the film on an essentially wrong note. They want Inception to be a dream movie in the surrealistic traditions of European films like 8½, Last Year at Marienbad, Wild Strawberries, The Andalusian Dog. It’s unfair on my part to expect a film which must submit to my preconceived notions of a dream-movie and not allow it to become what it wants to be. So Inception unfolded before me exactly the way the film wanted to.

The Last IYA2009 Event

(Last year, I promised to myself not to write any more blogposts after the Avatar review, although I had a lot to write about, including this one. As I resume regular blogging once again, this is first post I could think of. It's sixteen months too late , but as they say, it's never too late.)

As you all know, we had taken part in the 100 Hours of Astronomy and Galilean Nights as part of the International Year of Astronomy 2009. We also did other events to observe the IYA2009. The efforts of our organisation, Prof. Dhirananda Roy Study & Research Centre, were extensively covered in the press. So we were invited to various parts of West Bengal to hold events to popularise astronomy.

The last event we did in 2009 was particularly noteworthy because of its extent and the number of people it reached. It was one of the most popular events we held as a part of the IYA2009. It was held at a book fair on a public holiday. More than a thousand people were part of our event that evening

Avatar Review: John et Jim

JOHN ET JIM

The Eye

As the latest James Cameron film stops being the flavour of the season (well, almost), it assumes a whole new avatar for me.

A warning must be issued here. This isn’t a “review” of the film (I mean, two paragraphs about the plot, one about the technique, one about the acting, one about this and another about that and an easy and oversimplified good-mediocre-ugly categorisation issued at the end very conveniently dismissing all other opinions) so much as a journey into the corners of my thoughts. This review discusses topics I’d hardly imagined it’d when I saw the film. This is, as you’ll discover, two (maybe more) reviews for the price of one. There was something I wanted to review on this blog since 2009, but never could. Avatar gave me ample scope to do it this time. Issuing a spoiler warning for this film (and the subjects I’m going to discuss) is not only completely pointless at this stage (given the film has grossed a meagre $2.7 billion), but defeats the entire purpose of my review itself. You’re advised to avoid reading this piece if you are not familiar with any of these (which I believe is unlikely).

In anticipation of Avatar, I wrote a post describing my fond memories of Cameron’s Titanic. To this day, watching Titanic remains my most wonderful experience inside a cinema hall. I was expecting Cameron to reawaken the five-year-old in me, inspire awe and induce heartfelt emotions with another powerful drama. I was ready to bow before the King. A few weeks later, I was off to the theatre, bursting with excitement. After the screening was over, I found myself sorely disappointed. I could hardly understand what the fuss was all about. Was I being over-analytical in watching a film that was simply supposed to be enjoyed and experienced? (I didn’t even take my notepad along!) Did I grow too cynical and fail to enjoy the simple pleasures of life Avatar was supposed to provide? Where was the plot? Where was the excitement? Where were characters I could deeply care about? Where was the drama? The visual effects were brilliant; 3D was also great, but I got used to it so quickly that it, in my view, could no longer be used as an excuse to camouflage the hackneyed and predictable plot. I tried every bit to be swept by it. I just couldn’t go with the ride, perhaps because I’m not particularly fond of amusement park rides. Even taken as an experience, this one didn’t quite measure up to Titanic. “Oh, Jim, did you really have to do something this unimaginative?” I said loudly as I exited the theatre, much to the bewilderment of people around me. It was a perfectly forgettable movie, I thought. Then began the problem (and, needless to say, now begins the review).

The Celebration Begins!

Rabindranath Tagore

The world-wide celebration to observe the 150th birth anniversary of Rabindranath Tagore begins today. Rabindranath turned 149 today. I don't think I will be able to express in words what this day means to me. It offers me a passage to look back at the days of my childhood. Today, it will be a completely futile attempt on my part to give an account of my feelings of those days and my thoughts on Rabindranath and his vast body of work, because it will be endless. So I will keep this post short.

Bishnu De asks in a famous poem whether Rabindranath is all about the celebration that surrounds his birth and death anniversaries. All these years, after all these celebrations, it seems the same to me. On the morning of 25 Boiśākh, we turn on the television to watch the celebration taking place. We recite his poems and sing his songs with heartfelt passion.Some of us listen to Rabindrasangeet every day. Rabindranath is the reason of our cultural pride and rightfully so.

But for all our passion for Rabindrantah's works, we have strangely ignored Rabindranath himself. We love reading his poems and singing his songs, but not often do we pay attention to the thoughts and ideas expressed in the poems and songs. We have little time to look a Rabindranath's revolutionary ideas which were way ahead of his time. We have perhaps forgotten Rabindranath the thinker. It's the halo around him and his work that probably attracts us too much. We do not like to waste time to rediscover and interpret his works, because we have a notion that we know everything about Rabindranath. As I learnt from people very close to me, Rabindranath needs to be discovered everyday. He was not a man with stagnant ideas. It is fascinating to study the way he constantly changed.  His works need to be looked at. His ideas are as valid today as they were a century ago.

Rock-n-roll remix of Rabindrasangeets and some abysmal music videos are not really what I call "reinterpretation". frighteningly, Rabindranath is being abused today. Only today, I caught some astrologer on a TV channel proclaiming that – are you ready for this? – Rabindranath promoted astrology! There are soaps which integrate  out-of-context and horribly-sung Rabindrasangeets to add layers of meaning to them. Filmmakers alter our national anthem to use make their awful films something "deep" and then tell us that Rabindranath's intentions for writing it weren't very noble. Even the dates of his birth and death are tweaked conveniently. There are many more awesome gems, but in discussing them any further I will be giving them undue importance.

It is exciting for me that his works will be translated in many languages and be spread all over the world. People from other cultures will perhaps be able to do what we don't: perceive Rabindranath in a new way. Mixing of all forms of culture to form an enriched, superior form of culture was all Rabindranath wanted.

This year-long celebration, I hope, will bring us a new Rabindranath and help us get rid of the stagnancy of ideas.

So let's make this celebration a successful one! Let's rediscover Rabindranath!

Galilean Nights: Event Overview

I am so late in writing this post because of the fact that I didn't know how I should have begun writing this. And to be honest, I still don't. This post has been under development for more than six months. So I decided to do away with any sort of beginning and get straight to the point. So here's everything (well, almost) about my Galilean Nights event . . .

This programme, like the 100 Hours of Astronomy earlier in 2009, was organised by Prof. Dhiranando Roy Study & Research Centre.  In case you don't know, Galilean Nights was one of the Cornerstone Projects of the International Year of Astronomy 2009. Organised between October 22-24 2009, this programme aimed at reaching out to the people to show them the wonders of the night sky. This programme also intended to spread awareness about the great man we are remembering in IYA2009: Galileo Galilei. The main focus of Galilean Nights was on the objects Galileo observed 400 years ago and revolutionised modern science: The Sun, the Moon, Jupiter and Saturn.

I had originally planned to hold the event on all the three nights. But the pressure of my studies did not allow me to do what I'd intended to. But I had to organise it because I knew I'd die if I didn't. So I decided to hold the event for one night only. Saturday, October 24, seemed to me the best date to organise the event as more people would be able to come to the event during the weekend.

This and That . . .

It's been ages since I logged on to Blogger. Much to my delight, the homepage informed me that four comments were waiting to be published. I could hardly hold myself. Who could leave comments on a blog that's as good as dead? Who could possibly care about my random opinions? No one, I thought. And I was right. But the comments I saw pleased me in a different way. It's always a good sign when spambots leave ads on your blog. That means your blog's getting popular (among spambots, of course).

Blogging will not as sporadic this year as it was the last year, because I won't be blogging at all. You might see a couple of posts in the next few weeks. This is my final year and the NEWTs are very important. Since laying out my thoughts on the blog isn't as important as saving the world from the Dark Lord, I'm afraid you won't be seeing much of me in the year ahead. There are a great many things I wanted to write about. At first, I wanted to go back to the Leaves from My Japan Diary series. But I don't think I'll be able to do that because it will consume much of my time and energy. But I will write a few posts in the coming weeks. An incomplete overview of my Galilean Nights event has been gathering dust (the Pullmaninan one) in the drafts folder for about six months. I will also write about a major astronomy event I did in December. I will try to  write about some films I saw recently. I hope I can write about Avatar, which has provoked my thoughts in a way I did not expect it to do. I had some film and book-related posts in mind, but . . .

Gosh! I almost forgot why I started writing this post in the first place.

Happy Bengali New Year! It's 1417, folks! Last year, I wrote a post on the Bengali New Year. Looking back, it surprises me how much effort I put forth for that little post, with diacritical marks and all. This year, I have decided to do away with the diacritical marks. Instead, I will use the Bengali script.

শুভ নব বর্ষ 

This is exactly what the title of that post is. The arrival of Boiśākh means a lot to me, as I have discussed in that post. 24 days from now, the celebration of the 150th anniversary of the birth of Rabindranath Tagore will begin. I was delighted to find his mention in the New Year wish from Mrs Hillary Clinton, the US Secretary of State. It that is any indicaion, I am sure the worldwide celebration of his birthday will be hugely successful. I hope the entire world rediscovers Tagore's works and looks at the Bengali culture with a fresh perspective. This effort will be immensely important for the growth of the Bengali language and culture and how the world perceives the Bengali culture.

Hope this year brings happiness to one and all. But the beginning of this year shows little promise of happiness for us in this part of the world. It's freezing in Kolkata. As I write this, I can see flakes of snow outside the window. A thick sheet of snow has covered the entire country. It will only get colder in May. I don't know what I'll do then. Fascinating, no?

Remembering Titanic

As the whole world gets ready to embrace the new James Cameron film, I decide to revisit a film which fascinated a child 11 years ago.

I was hardly five then. But to this day, the sunny April day of 1998 is as clear in my mind as anything else. A new English film had become the talk of the town. It had won 11 Oscars (I didn't know what an Oscar was) and became a global hit. (As though they were the only criteria for a good film) It had come to Kolkata and as expected, became an instant smash hit. People all over were rah-rah-ing about the film on the sinking ship.

My relationship with cinema till then was not very developed. I don't remember seeing many films before that. (You certainly wouldn't expect a five-year-old to appreciate Orson Welles or Satyajit Ray, would you?) I was taken to movie theatres a couple of times before but the experience at the cinema hall was nothing memorable to speak of.

We didn't know anything about this new movie except the fact that the protagonist was a sinking ship. I remember that Aunt managed to get five tickets for Mum, Dad, Sister, herself and well, that little child. I was very excited. I was going to watch a movie!

The day finally arrived and we were all ready to go to the movie theatre. Multiplexes were strangers to Kolkata until 2003. Single-screen halls were all we had then. We went to the Globe Cinema to see the movie called Titanic which was "edited to suit the family audiences in India". It was as clean and family-friendly as a five-year-old can possibly see.

150 Years of Realisation

400 Years Later ...

That was the name of the Galilean Nights event I had organised last month. The event was very successful, to put it simply. I couldn't post the pictures and event reports on this blog because my studies left me with little time to blog or even Tweet. (I'll post the pics and reports soon.)

2009, as you must know, has been declared as the International Year of Astronomy to commemorate the 400^th anniversary of that little invention called telescope. In 2009, we are remembering the Father of Modern Science – Galileo Galilei. So far, it's been an awesome and very fruitful year for all astronomers and astronomy enthusiasts.  IYA2009 perfectly accomplished what it intended to do and what it did was much bigger and better than many could have hoped for. More on that next month.

But if you thought that only that was the importance of 2009, think again.

Over the Moon!

The festive season is finally here! Bengalis all over the world have started celebrating. I find it very interesting to see the happy faces of people going crazy to receive blessings of goddess Durga whom they very affectionately refer to as Maa (Mother). You'll find another kind of people who find a lot of reasons to be happy, apart from, of course, the divine blessings. But that's another story altogether. Some people become happy to meet distant relatives and childhood friends. To them the Puja is a trip down memory lane, an opportunity to meet the older, younger self they have long forgotten. Then there's another kind of people whose lives are trapped in a bubble of perpetual sadness and gloom. Yet they try to force a smile on the face, hoping against hope to be happy.

My relationship with the goddess-mother (or mother-goddess, whatever you prefer) has always been very poor. As a matter of fact, there has never been any relationship between us at all. It was early in my childhood when I abandoned the idea of a Higher Power from Above controlling every aspect of the Universe from the eyelids of a child to a drop of rain. Yet I enjoyed myself during the Puja, but not by celebrating it. I have been worshipping pasta over the past few years, but still I try to be happy this season. I fail to derive joy from visiting the Puja pandals which are, apparently, the pinnacle of artistic brilliance. I don't find "hanging out" a great option either.  But everyone around me is very happy, so why should I not give myself a chance to be happy? But my source of joy is a bit (OK, a lot!) different. I decided to watch a movie this time. It should have been a very entertaining, action-packed, emotionally affecting movie with a great story to tell, but it wasn't.

Video: 100 Hours of Astronomy: Award Acceptance / Award Ceremony

I am sorry that I am uploading the videos this late. It's been more than one month since the 100 Hours of Astronomy award ceremony took place at the XXVIIth General Assembly of the International Astronomical Union in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. I've told you almost everything about the award before. So let's not be repetitive.

The following video is the one I had originally made to be shown at the ceremony.

Happy Teachers' Day!

For me Teachers' Day is one of the most anticipated days of the year. I don't look forward to this day because this day offers us a chance to express our gratitude to our teachers and tell them how great they are. That should be done everyday. We need to thank our teachers 365 days a year from the bottom of our heart. We deliver some very emotional speeches on this day but once the day is over do we really believe in what we said?

Everyday, there's a news headline indicating the steadily deteriorating teacher-pupil relationship. What is the significance of September 5 if students don't respect their teachers as much as they should? We need to observe Teachers' Day everyday by being obedient to them and showing them proper respect, not by giving them flower bouquets. I'm not saying that giving them flower bouquets is not a good thing to do, it'd just be better if the bouquets were accompanied by true respect and love. Otherwise, the observance of Teachers' Day becomes an exercise in pointlessness and falsehood.

However, I await September 5 with intense anticipation because of the mad celebration that takes place in our school. "Dazzling" would be another word to describe it aptly. We have, to use a much-abused phrase, loads of fun on this day and today was no exception.

A Moment of Ecstasy

How else can I define it? I fall short of words to describe the moment that's coming in a few hours. It will be erroneous to describe my feelings as ecstasy. What I am feeling now is something I've rarely, or maybe never experienced. It's not elation, it's something beyond that. It's that something plus anxiety, fear, anticipation, awe. Now that would be a more apt description. I think I have written ample words trying in vain to do what is beyond my ability.

Let's get it straight. How would you feel if you were an astronomy enthusiast and got to express yourself in front of the top astronomers of the world? How would you feel if you were being featured at the convention where world's best astronomers meet and where every major decision about astronomy was made? How would you feel if you got the chance to represent your nation, acknowledge the part of the most important people in your life and say what you want to at such a convention?

See? Don't all these feelings obstruct your thoughts? Oh, I forgot to add: how would you feel if the highest governing body in astronomy gave you an award for your work when you are still in school?