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A technology and A magic for your marriage


Recently we had a survey , just for fun about what one would like to have as an aid to run a smooth marriage?

That is if somebody had the choice to choose a technology and a magic to ensure a smooth marriage, what would they be?

The responses ranged from hilarious to insightful and also romantic ones. We bring before you some of them and wind it up with four opinions from our In house popular personalities – Bhoothnath, Mrs Bhoothnath, MisCellany and the Wise bachelor.

G Guru , a spunky girl with a great sense of humour says-  “A robot . And magic that would transform the robot to look like you so that no one suspects you are away travelling” now isn’t that naughty. Hmm hm.

A new mother wails- “Looking after my baby has made my life exhausting. I want a robot and Ginny the genie”

MG, a devoted but bewildered husband says with a chuckle “ No magic works for Biwi. If money is magic then money will  do fine… and technology? Hmm I am not tech savvy, still I would say I phone”

Worming out an answer from our CA here was more difficult. No wonder they have so measured words.

“A technology that keps tab on upcoming birthdays and anniversaries with e mail as well as alarm reminders. For magic –getting invisible whenever I want to be away from her and knowing what to say and when”


Harshdipe even though unmarried had a high def answer when he said –“Magic : To Increase the number of hours in a day to give more time to your better half after work”.

He sure is going to impress his girl with this one.

Sanjukta spoke for every women when she said , “A run button to make my husband move his lazy self and for magic-to get some time to ourselves to at least watch a movie together”

Pramathesh N Borkotoky our editor in chief replied with a poker face- “Nag mute. Can be included in either of the category”

Finally we caught up with Mrs Bhoothnath , the better half of our ex in house astrologer. She was quite an influence on how Mr Bhoothnath percieved his visions about future. An avid Harry Potter fan who equally loved Hollywood flicks, she gleefully answered as “ Oh I wish, how I wish this was possible! As magic I would love to have a flying broom. Just look at its multiple uses. Transportation, house work and to top it , it could help me to drum some sense into Bhootnath.For technology , what else but a tracking device which I would fit into him and keep a track of his movements” Ouch! That was a hard one.

So off we went to Mr. Bhoothnath on what he thought about it. As usual he was a big grouch and relented to cooperate only when he came to know that his wife had already made her choices. But  of course he insisted on knowing her choices first .

“Hmm . Flying broom and tracker is it “ he had ruminated. “ Well then I would love to have a port key that would transport me away from her without a trace anytime she starts nagging. (oops another harry potter fan) and for technology , obviously a jammer that blocked all kinds of signals. Now lets see, who is the boss?”

Though we would have loved to carry on with their tug of war, but we had to move on to Wise bachelor and Miscellany.

Wise Bachelor just had one question, “ Marriage and me?” he had asked incredulously. Sorry, obviously our mistake .We backed off humbly and proceeded onto Miscellany for her gems of wisdom.

Miscellany had a totally alternate view  . “ In my opinion, make a marriage technolgy free and it has a better chance of running smoothly. No mobiles, no TV, no internet, no ipods- only the man and woman in their Eden, where they are Adam and Eve, surviving together and surviving each other. With no technology, there will be only magic .”

Cryptic , but yes she had a point. Don’t you think so?

So what is your take on marriage?



New Horizon

The fiction New Horizon ,by Akshayarka had won the joint third prize for the Sci Fi Eclat competition of Techniche, the annual festival of Guwahati IIT


This story chronicles the journey of one individual as he fights against all odds to save himself and a friend from the apocalypse. The story starts as the protagonist sits in his house formulating a plan to do so.

He finds his friend, and convinces her to come with him. Together they hijack a car get to the launching site for eleven starship that the government has built to evade Doomsday.

These ships are then described. A revolutionary new propulsion system, a new material for protection, and life-support systems. The space craft launch, and the protagonists are taken to the new world.

The story ends with a refreshing twist.


Our world was about to end: it would literally fall apart, get consumed by a massive black-hole that was headed our way. This hungry monster would simply engulf our world unless we did something about it. Our technology was not yet advanced enough to halt such a catastrophe, and so we would have to evacuate the whole planet.

And to that end, all leading engineers, astronomers, physicists, sociologists and doctors were called together to form a government-aided research team. A team that would conduct the greatest experiment in history. A team that would design and build mega-starships to carry the people out of our doomed planet, and take us somewhere far away, to a new planet, for a new life.

But, there was a catch in this brilliant strategy: we didn’t have enough resources to ships big enough to carry the teeming millions of our people. So some would, ‘regrettably’, have to be left behind. Only a select few would be taken for the ride, the rich and powerful, the able-bodied ones … others would be left behind.

And I was a mere construction worker.

Alone in my quarter, I cradled a flashlight in my hands. I had only thirty-six hours to live. After that, oblivion. The government starships were set to launch the next morning… I had to do something. And a plan was already forming in my mind. But I could not leave my friend.

I found the house I was looking for, and knocked on the door. After a short wait, the door was opened by an old friend. Tara Jennings, a first-class romantic poet, was a good friend. We had graduated from the same university (albeit from different branches – I was a student of Computer Administration. Tara had prospered, but I was left behind). We had even lived in same locality.

After all the formalities, I spoke in a more businesslike tone, ‘Look, we don’t have much time for claptrap. Great thins are afoot tonight.’ Tara’s eyebrows were almost lost under her hairline. But I continued. ‘Please bear with me. What do you know about black holes?’

Black holes? Aren’t they like – collapsed stars or something?’

Right. When a massive star goes boom, the remnants kind of implode into themselves and form a black hole. It can absorb anything and everything. Kind of a dead end -’

What,’ Tara interrupted, ‘exactly is your point?’

There was no way to put it softly. I had to tell the truth. ‘The world is about end.’

Tara rolled her eyes. ‘Is this your idea of a joke?’

I’m deadly serious – no pun intended.’ I ploughed on, before she could butt in again, ‘Look our world is really about to end, and we cannot do anything to stop it. All that we can do is to save some section of the population.

Recently, our space flight capabilities have seen a quantum leap. Propulsion systems, life-support systems, everything has advanced beyond recognition. And now it is time to put all that to the test. For the only way to save ourselves is to flee. This black –‘

Wait,’ she interrupted me, ‘what do you think the chances of a black-hole intersecting the orbit of a planet are? It’s astronomical !’

It doesn’t have to intersect our orbit,’ I explained patiently, ‘it’s got an enormous gravitational field that extends for millions of miles; it comes close, and we’re doomed.’

All right, let’s say that I’ve agreed that the Apocalypse is indeed coming,’ she said placidly, ‘but how do you propose that we uh – flee? How about that eh?’

We evacuate the planet,’ I said simply. ‘And that’s why I’ve been talking about space flight capabilities and all that. We’re building spaceships!’

Tara sat down in a daze. ‘How – how do you know – about all this?’

I built one of those ships myself, didn’t I?’

Slowly, very slowly, comprehension dawned upon her face. ‘You mean everything’s lost? Seven thousand years order and civilization – all lost.’ There were tears in her eyes.

Shhh,’ I consoled her, ‘Not everything. After all, the starships are large enough to hold a third of our population. True, we’ll lose our cultural heritage. But civilization will not be lost. It will only start anew.

This news,’ I continued, ‘was not made public for the simple reason that it would cause mass hysteria. People would end up blowing themselves up even before the actual “end of the world”. But still, only a few influential persons will be allowed to board the ships; others are not so lucky.’

At this, Tara looked up in indignation. ‘So,’ she said, ‘they’ll just leave like thieves in the night?’


Disgraceful!’ Tara exclaimed, enraged. ‘We have to do something. We can’t let so many people die like that. We’ll have to save ourselves!’

My point exactly.’ I let out a sigh of relief. Tara was at last on the right track. My plan was simple: to get aboard one of the starships in place of somebody else. Desperate times did call for desperate measures, after all.

I explained all this to her. It took a while to convince her, but at last she agreed. We would have to time our plan carefully. I had already found our perfect doppelgangers: a rich heiress and her jobless husband. They would arrive at the boarding site by car, and in this journey was a lonely, forested patch of road where we would be able hijack their car.

My flashlight played an important role in this.

Another dawn, another day. I was perched on an overhanging branch of a tree just beside the road; Tara was crouching behind a large rock. We were waiting for our ride out of the planet.

I had a clear view for miles around, and could see a green Bugati-Veyron approaching. It was, no doubt, our doppelgangers’ car. After all, a Bugati-Veyron was something very rich idiots bought to impress other very rich idiots.

Just as the car passed under me, I dropped my flashlight; it hit the driver’s head with a satisfyingly loud thud. Without a driver, the car’s built-in security systems kicked in, and brought it to a stop. A bewildered woman got out of the car and looked up. Then suddenly, there was a sharp buzzing sound, and the woman collapsed.

Tara was standing beside her, a tazer in hand, sending ten-thousand volts through her body.

Where did you get that tazer?’ I asked her in amazement. I hadn’t known that Tara could be so violent.

I’d bought it for self defense sometime ago. I just used it for offence now. Its much more handy than chloroform.’

Ooookay. Let’s get to work now.’

Tara bent over the woman’s purse and extracted her electronic ID. ‘Is this what you were talking about?’ she asked me.

Yes,’ I replied. The government issued these little devices to the selected ones to record all their personal information. We had planned to take the ID of these two people and overwrite the original information with ours – kind of like impostors, really. The trickiest part of the operation was hacking into the database. It took me half an hour to do this. But after that, I became Lord SylwesterRosonski, and Tara became Lady Serafina Pekkala Rosonski.

Your ID please.’

Six armed guards stood in front of the gates of the launching site. There were eleven starships in all. The ‘Salvation’ fleet. The Salvation Alpha was for political leaders and ambassadors. Salvation Beta was for other important personages. The other ships were for the general public. We were headed for the Salvation Sigma.

The starship was an impressive site: a hundred feet wide and over five-hundred feet tall, it could easily accommodate more than a million people. It was not shaped like a regular rocket, but was more like a funnel. Its exterior was made of the fabled ‘vibranium’ metal: thousands of times stronger than steel, and one-twentieth of its weight. This made almost indestructible.

But the most striking breakthrough in the ship was its engine: the Nuclear-Pulse Drive. Once clear of the atmosphere, the engine would detonate small atomic charges in succession to propel through space; the Salvation Sigma could fly at sixty percent to speed of light.

We showed our IDs to the guard. Tara’s ID seemed to confuse him a bit. Perhaps he had seen the heiress Serafina Rosonski before.

Fortunately, he decided not to argue. After all, the ID provided ‘infallible’ protection against impostors. We went through.

The interior of the ship was even more impressive the its exterior. The lobby was decorated with tasteful antediluvian furniture. Though what use furniture had in a spacecraft, I have no idea. Endless corridors branched away from the lobby. On entering, an attendant handed us a tablet-like device.

Um – what do we do with this?’ Tara asked the attendant.

It is a map,’ she replied, ‘for guiding you down to your chambers.’ Then she pressed a button, and a greenish map was displayed on the screen. ‘Happy journey!’ she said mechanically, and pushed us along.

We went through fourteen corridors and finally arrived at a thick, metallic sliding door. There was a peep-hole in the center of the door. Our map prompted us to raise our IDs to this peep-hole. Evidently, it was some kind of scanner, for the next moment, the door slid open.

The room was full of…

Perambulators,’ Tara exclaimed.

Yes,’ I agreed, ‘perambulators.’

No,’ someone behind us disagreed, ‘not perambulators. Those are suspended animation chambers.’ The speaker was a tall, muscular with intelligent eyes and an engaging smile. He was, I judged, in his early fifties.

Welcome aboard the Salvation Sigma. You are among our earliest arrivals, and the launching procedures are still a few hours off. So please don’t hesitate to use the onboard recreational facilities to occupy your time,’ he said, gesturing towards a pinball machine and a television on the far side of the room. ‘Good day.’ And just like that, he was gone.

Pleasant host,’ Tara said with her eyebrows raised.

Three hours had passed since we got onto the ship, and by now, our room was full. Some of the occupants were smiling, some were excited, most were nervous. Tara was positively fuming beside me. We had just learned how our spacecraft were to launch without raising the alarm among the commons: every city in near vicinity was to be sprayed with drugs so that the people would fall asleep (and not notice the ships). Even though I had managed to convince her to stay on board, Tara still disapproved the plan. It was unjust and cowardly, she said. I can’t say I agreed with her.

Just then, the television screen lighted up. It showed the man we had met three hours earlier on the threshold of the room.

Good morning. I, captain of the Salvation Sigma, welcome you aboard. The launching procedure will begin in under five minutes. Our journey will take roughly ten years to complete,’ at this, there was a collective intake of breath by all the people. But the commander had not finished yet. He said, ‘But don’t worry. This ship is equipped with advanced suspended animation facilities. These will put you to sleep and keep you from ageing until the journey is complete. How it works… well, that’s story for another day. Rest assured, however, that you will be completely safe under suspended animation. The central computer will assume control of the ship, and as we approach our destination, we’ll be awakened automatically.

All passengers are now advised to assume their place in the suspended animation chambers. This is just a safety precaution to avoid any disturbance during the launch. So, relax!’

The lights dimmed, and a soft humming sound filled the air. It gradually increased in pitch and turned into a thunderous roar as the engines kicked in.

T-minus ten seconds to launch,’ a computerized voice announced. ‘Nine… eight… seven… six… five… four… three… two… one. Blast-off! ‘

With crushing force, the ship lifted off. Accelerating, accelerating, and accelerating until finally we reached escape velocity. But under the protection of the chamber, I could hardly fell the force, when suddenly it disappeared. We had cleared the atmosphere of the planet.

The lights came on. The Commander’s voice came on the PA system once more, ‘Folks, let’s take one last look at our home.’ And with that, all the walls became transparent.

It showed us a wondrous sight: our green-blue planet, rotating majestically on its axis. It sired the first great civilization, but was now doomed…

The walls slowly became transparent again, and the commander spoke, ‘The main engines will kick-in after a minute. I think its time we all get into the suspended animation chambers.’

I looked for one last time at Tara. There were tears in her eyes, but she smiled. And then I slipped into my delightful perambulator. The door closed and the lights blinked out. The air became cold as I slowly drifted off into a heavy, dreamless sleep…

Welcome back,’ the commander said.

I had woken up a few seconds earlier. Even after ten years of sleep, I didn’t feel any different. It felt ten minutes, not ten years. I pushed open the hatch, and sat up. The three hundred other people were also just getting up. And beside me, as always, was Tara. I extricated myself from the perambulator with a little difficulty.

The commander was still speaking, ‘We have covered most of our journey, and now only a few days remain. Let’s take a look at our new home.’

The walls became transparent again, and we had our first view of the new world. There it was, a small green-blue planet its parent star at distance of roughly ninety-six million miles.

The Commander’s voice announced, ‘It is really not much different from our own world. The atmosphere is roughly thirty percent oxygen, and average surface temperature is about twenty-five degrees centigrade… If you ask me, it is actually kind of an improvement on our home – it’s much cooler!’

The view was then magnified so that we could actually see the surface of the planet. Large and scaly beasts roamed the open grasslands and dense forests. It was paradise.

And thus the time passed, until finally the great day of the descent arrived. We were asked to get into the suspended animation chambers again.

The Salvation Sigma came thundering down.

That night, the stars shone in all their magnificence onto the planet. The air saturated with sweet scents of wild flowers, and the ground was littered with sweet fruit. A sparkling river flowed under the clear sky. It was the most beautiful site I had ever seen. And it was my new home.

Tara and the Commander appeared beside me. She pointed skywards as a large reptilian bird flew over us. I flicked my tail in amazement.

Submitted by:-

Akshayarka Alammyan Deka

Class: 10

Don Bosco School, Guwahati 

Sharodi Saikia draw accolades at Nehru Centre, London

On Monday, 1st October, 2012, Nehru Centre at Mayfair London presented a stunning confluence of Sattriya performance by Sharodi Saikia – as a leading exponent of Sattriya  tradition today.

Sharodi Saikia has a rare combination of dancer, choreographer, teacher and music composer, has been pursuing this dance form for more than three decades with untiring devotion and exemplary zeal. It was her Guru, the legendary Rokhkeswar Saikia Borbayan of Kamalabari Sattra, who was the moving spirit and main protagonist instrumental in transplanting this rich cultural treasure trove from the religious-ritualistic moorings of the Sattras to the secular stage enabling the common people to enjoy it as a cultural treasure. Sharodi is one of the few who balances a full time HR  career along with her passion for music. At present She, is the Director of Srimanta Sankaradeva Kalakshetra, Guwahati (The Premier Cultural Institution of Assam) 

The event was organized by Rini Kakati, NRI Assam Co-ordinator for UK. Gowri Shankar, Second Secretary Culture & Deputy Director of Nehru Centre in his welcome speech spoke highly about the art and culture of the North- East and welcomed the invited guest artist from Assam and the dignitaries.

Tara Chand, Minister Secretary of Indian High Commission in his closing speech mentioned about the richness of the North- East, especially Assam and the importance of showcasing unity in cultural diversity.

The evening commnened with “Krishna through Assamese Eyes”. Srimanta Sankaradeva and his prime disciple Shri Shri Madhavdev while propagating the Neo-Vaishnavite movement with One- God concept takes Shri Krishna as the principal deity and eulogizes him by elaborating his heroic and interesting deeds in their writings.

In Indian mythology Shri Krishna happens to be the most powerful and interesting character. Mischievous as a child, apple of everybody’s eyes at Gokul he grows up as the most handsome adolescent playing the flute and enticing the damsels of Gokul to Vrindabana. Killing demons from a tender age he turns out to be a great warrior, effective ruler and shrewd statesman.

Poets and lyricists after them have also described Krishna in many interesting ways. In 20th Century Jyoti Prasad Agarwalla, a genius, the ‘Rupkonwar’, portrayed him as a friend while Bishnu Prasad Rabha, the ‘Kalaguru’ depicts him as a bohemian, crazy lover-boy enjoying the gopis’ disappointment by disappearing while playing ‘ghila’. Dr. Bhupen Hazarika added to the range by rendering his golden voice to these numbers and also to a number of folk songs on Krishna’s life and moods. 

She began her presentation with Krishna Vandana, based on a few ‘Nandi Shlokas’ taken from Shrimanta Sankaradeva’s Ankiya Naats, set to beats of Na-Dhamali followed by a ‘Geetor Nach’ based on a composition by Shri Shri Madhavdev that illustrates mother Yashoda waking up and preparing her son for grazing the cattle, and while doing so the latter making merry with his friends; two items ‘More Jibonore Sakha Krishna’ and ‘Oliya Boliya Krishna Koliya’ by Jyoti Prasad Agarwalla and Bishnu Prasad Rabha rendered by Dr. Bhupen Hazarika were followed by ‘Dashavatara’ from Kirtan Ghosha with demonstration of ‘Avatara’s.

She was intervied by James Brewer, well-known journalist from Confluence. One British lady even made a sketch of the artiste impromptu. Sharodi was in tears when people called her an angel.

Rini Kakati 

The Last Wish – By Anindita Paul

Winner of 1st Prize in the Eclat Sci Fi competition- Techniche 12, IIT Guwahati


What is the most elusive of man’s wishes? Sang in melodies, promised in abstract, imagined in stories but still a mere figment of fiction and man’s everlasting desire. Lives change with time, so do the things men want to play with. Better cars, the next generation of communication media: these are the sci fi dreams of the present. But the following story holds the belief that as time flies, the basic entity and organisation (or contra) will remain the same with a few modifications along the way. Men will always lust after greasy foods and some hi tech alternative to cigarette may still come up but the fact remains that man will always find himself shackled in the chains of one or another for that is what it means to be human. But my story indulges itself in the one thing, the one gift that may break man free from these chains of imprisonment, the one gift that may change the way we view and live life forever. The greatest gift that man can envision.

“Every morning in Africa, a gazelle wakes up.

It knows it must outrun the fastest lion or it will be killed.

Every morning in Africa, a lion wakes up.

It knows it must run faster than the slowest gazelle, or it will starve.

It doesn’t matter whether you’re a lion or a gazelle

When the sun comes up in Africa, you’d better be running.”



The cheers reverberated from every corner of the stands. Flags furled and unfurled, a clash of different colours as the hands that held them. The vendors danced gracefully amidst the jostling crowd selling a milieu of greasy treats and drinks to soothe the hoarse voices as the spectators bellowed out the names of their favourites, immediately followed by whoops or jeers from those waiting nearby. The crowd was waiting in nervous anticipation. The last minute arrivals rushed to grab the remaining seats, stealing hurried glances at the tracks where the giants were assembled; always hurrying, always afraid lest the race started before they were in place. A hum of nervous energy floated in the air, sweat intermingled in the warm west midland weather but those that gathered there didn’t seem to care. Today seemed to be one of those momentous occasions when history could be written. They felt it in their hearts that it would be a day that they would remember till the day they died, a day that would change their lives forever. Only a few moments now remained: the tension was increasing. A man burst into tears unable to contain himself, a few even fainted .Above the noises of the unconscious being removed in stretchers and a few faint laughs that floated in their wake, the monologue over the announcements was reaching its end.

Far into the field, the titans were crouched, ready to pounce upon the open ground. Separated by white lines, they held a perfect line of formation; beautiful statues that looked as though Bernini himself had carved them out of marble, only the slow rise and fall of their chests gave indication that they were alive and the veins that stood out with the avid force of their concentration. They were gods in the stadium: each a Colossus on terra.

Perhaps a little disparate from the line-up, though no less impressive, was a black man. He was standing at the second last outer circle with his feet jauntily on the set block. His bald head shiny enough to reflect the sun like the rays shot from a newly cleaned pistol and a set of bright white teeth that peeked inconspicuously from between dramatically upturned lips. He seemed to be somehow less daunting than the others. Though his player card boasted the optimum statistics, he seemed to be overshadowed on the field. Perhaps it was the face that was ready to break out in wrinkles of laughter at the slightest flashed in the TV and captured across the pages of the papers that made him seem a little too friendly compared to his more intense competitors. After having broken through the ranks and scraping his way into the finals, the press dubbed this yesteryear’s “most promising athlete”, a “David among Goliaths”. However, there seemed to be something about him that disturbed even the most complacent of the snubs. A searing focus that could leave trails blazing literally, it seemed. But such new found attitudes and overemphasized presence was a common sight at the races, especially among the newbies. Soon the cameras turned to the favourite of the race who had just flashed a grin at the spectators sending in a wave of frenzy into the already pulsating mass.

The commentary was now over and the countdown had begun. At the starting line, hands were clenched into fists and the jaws set tighter. The chaos from the stands receded into silence. At the gunshot, the boom resounded in the deafening silence and one runner began ahead of his time. As soon as he realised his mistake, he began to stop, strained his ankle and skidded into the white line. A sharp pain shot from the heel as the tendon scraped over the bone. The others shot through the track, leaving him kneeling in a shower of dust.

Mr Finkler was in an exceedingly good mood. Driving through Highway59, he felt the day could not have been more perfect. The sun was shining brightly and the wind through his hair made it seem no less perfect than a Top Gun scene. He felt irritated that his boss had wanted him to put in extra hours of billing at the law firm. But he had outsmarted him. Showed him who’s boss. A couple of hundred dollar bills and the cleaning lady at the office punched in his card for a couple of extra hours of work. And why shouldn’t he? He certainly could afford it and after the way he had closed the Merrywater case earning his firm twice as much as calculated in terms of handling charges and profits, it was preposterous to expect him to work on a Saturday afternoon. Still if he got caught and with the frequent feelers his boss had been dropping about the promotion, it would damage his chances of making a partner. He shook his head and shifted his thoughts from the matter; it would have to be dealt with when the time came and concentrated on the journey at hand.

Ever since he was a kid, he had been in awe of runners. His earliest memory of a childhood was sneaking into his father’s room and watching his collection of old sports videos. His father had been an athlete in school and indulged in his passion by collecting the best athletes in history. There in his father’s study, smelling of leather and Cohiba cigars, he saw her for the first time: the chocolate coloured lady in blue shorts flying across the track. He felt lightheaded just seeing her run. Enthralled, he watched her as she shot over and across hurdles: graceful yet strong. To his eight year old mind she was a superhero. He had a picture of her pasted on his door with a name printed below in tiny printer ink: P T Usha. Watching her run made it seem like he had discovered a secret: a secret that was only between him and the poster on his door and it made him feel special. He carried that feeling with him well into his teens and even in Law College when he felt like he could go on no more, he travelled back to the days in his father’s study, when hidden from the world she whispered into his ears that he could fly.

On his way to the 1500 metres sprint, Olympics 3000, he had a feeling that his childhood had crept into his present and he could almost sing. But he contended himself with just smiling lest some crazy loon thought him a madman behind the wheel. What if one his associates saw him? He shuddered, then threw back his head and started laughing.

Seven minutes into the race and eight laps down, things were going as predicted. After the one false start, the other seven had conquered the track in a manner no less expected of them. A ginger haired lithe runner from USA had taken the lead followed closely by one from the mainland of China. The black man was trailing third.

The driver in the black on black BMW X10 was anxious. The traffic jam at the A452 Chester Road had already gotten him fifteen late. He had left his earlier job as a desk clerk in a shoddy establishment to take care of his ailing mother who was suffering from a rare form of degenerative disease. Treatments had taken away almost all the money that he had saved up and the bills were piling up. It became imperative for him to find to find another job. One day loitering about aimlessly and dejectedly from a day of fruitless search for a job, he saw a man stumble out through the doors of a local pub. Too intoxicated to even walk in a straight line he watched the man grapple in his pockets and take out a set of keys, then stumbled into the front seat of one of those glossy new sports cars and started the engine. The engine started with a gentle purr and banged into the bumper of the car behind. An incessant honk filled the area. From across the road where he had been standing, he had seen enough. In his last job, he had frequently watched his bosses get drunk in the late Friday night parties and boast sober enough to drive only to trail a mess until somebody saved them. He shook his head with a whiff of comprehension. The man, in his drunken haze, had obviously pressed the reverse gear instead of forward causing the machine to accelerate backwards. Sure enough he found the man lying unconscious with his head on the steering wheel. He caught a whiff of perfume and vomit as he secured the man into the front seat and drove him home. Next day, sober and grateful in his crumpled designer white shirt and torn cashmere pants he had given him a job as his driver.

This was the day after and his first day at the job. He wanted to do it without error. He knew the man sitting behind was important and what more, he was kind and generous. He had paid for his mother’s treatment in full and had also given him something extra so that he could now afford a full time nurse. More than anything, he wanted to impress the big man sitting in the backseat. So it was that in the blistering sun, the black car advanced keeping just inside of the speed limit but the driver was still anxious that his boss would he late.

When he made the last curve, he saw the red chevvy Camaro coming from the opposite direction. The glare of the reflection from the windshield blinded him for a second and then he saw something odd. The man behind the wheel seemed to be laughing. As he squinted his eyes to see the man clearly, the BMW ran over a loose stone and slipped. As the black car dented into the side of the Camaro, he saw the glassy eyes of the man, laughing hysterically inside, still unaware of what had happened. The BMW made two circles and smashed into the rails leaving a confusion of mangled bodies inside. The Camaro skidded at first and then tore through the air and careered into the emptiness beyond. Somewhere during the flight the glassy eyes jerked into the present, a grimace of shock and bewilderment etched into his face. The last thing he remembered was the machine in his office recording the extra hours of billing and with a wistful smile on his face, the car crashed into the cool waters below.

It was after the twentieth lap that things began to shake up. At the twenty-first lap, lightheaded and at the end of his game one of the runners deliberately crashed into another, thus disqualifying both from the race. A storm of protests broke out as some supporters began gesturing rudely towards the runner, a few that broke free had started advancing towards him but were soon dragged away by the security. Some whooped and cheered him pleased with the turn of events. The rest of the five had shot forward unaware of the drama behind, ginger hair leading the race closely followed by the Chinese and the black man. After the twenty third lap, the Chinese fell behind and at par with the black man. At the twenty fourth, the black man glided past the Chinese and began inching towards the American. The crowd was in delirium. Would the twelve time title holder fall behind? Would the underdog take the title from the titan? The media had gone into frenzy.

Cameras flashed from across the barricades as the bodies were removed in stretchers from under the debris. Even through the blood and dust covering the disfigured bodies, the skin colour could be made out. One was black.

The black man was now fast approaching the lead. The gap between the two closed within seconds and now the black man was running head to head with the white skinned American.

It didn’t take the crowd long to join the dots. There was the body of a black man under a signature black on black BMW X10 in what was the road leading to the Olympics 3000. It could be no other than the surprise entry of this year’s most awaited race. The only black man in the line-up and the smile that had graced the covers of many a newspaper. And he was fighting for his live in an ambulance mere hours before the race.

He was almost dead by the time they reached the hospital. And as luck would have it the chief surgeon to be operating on him was accounted for being an eccentric. In fact, most in the scientific community steered clear of him in spite of his many breakthroughs. Most considered him mad. That and an utter inconsideration for rules had stunted his career in many ways than one. It was abuzz that he had stumbled upon something new and that it was big. He refused to disclose the details and remained holed up in his office for days at a time. However, on hearing about the accident he had rushed from his office to the operating table even before the attendants. Apprehensions flew around but no one came forward to stop him as he began preparing to operate. At 9:05, he was timed officially dead.

The black man had now surpassed the ginger haired American and was running at the head of the race. It was the last lap. Halfway through the race, a sharp pain shot up from his leg almost stopping him in his tracks. A millisecond of hesitation later he continued running. As though his life was on the line, he ran. He left his past behind, and he ran. He ran till his legs could take no more, but still he ran. Chasing the end with the last iota of energy, he ran. Ignoring the pain in his body he ran like there would be no tomorrow, like there wouldn’t a next moment. He lived his life in the last moment of victory as he chased the finish line and dropped to his knees with the red cloth of victory around his body. He saw the crowd breaking loose and his agent running towards him. He had won the race at 01:26, a few seconds later he had breathed his last.

The doctor came out of the Operating Room whistling to himself. Tremendously pleased with himself. He declared the operation a massive success.

At 10:00, he held a press conference. He declared he had found the secret of life. No one believed him. Until exactly three hours and twenty six minutes later.

It was the beginning of a new age.

Written by: Anindita Paul,

3rd semester, (DUIET)

Press Release – Rini Kakati

It is not everyday people like Bhupen Hazarika is born –  85 years of meaningful existence has and continue to add significance in uploading the rich culture, tradition, flourishing in Assam for ages.The bard of Brahmaputra fell silent for eternity on November 05, 2011


He was considered as the last of the great mass singer and the only great ballad singer in India. He was a maestro, a living legend and a national and international cultural icon, who represents and reflects with perfection, the socio-cultural political image of India. Dr Hazarika’s vision encompasses the entire world, reflecting the mood and passion of the oppressed and downtrodden in his ballads and folk tunes he picked up from different soils he came across. 

Following the suggestion of Jayanta Barman, Vice – President, FASS, Guwahati (Friends of Assam and Seven Sisters), 
Rini Kakati, NRI Co-ordinator for UK initiated the matter with the Indian High Commission. With the approval of ICCR (Indian Council for Cultural Relations) on Tuesday, 26 June 2012, Dr. Jaimini Bhagwati, High Commissioner of India will unveil the live picture of Dr. Bhupen Hazarika at the prestigious Nehru Centre (the Cultural Wing of Indian High Commission). Dr. M. Sayeedur Rahman Khan, High Commissioner of Bangladesh will attend as a guest of honour along with dignitaries, Peers and Indian Communities.
Assam is a part of India which in somewhere is little know even in India itself because of its remote location. More importantly the relative neglect absence of Sankaradeva in the history of the Neo-Vaishnavite movement in India, has long been a gap in knowledge waiting recognition. 

The much traveled, social reformer and fountain head of the great Neo – Vaishnavite movement and Sattriya institute of Assam in 15th century. Where there was division he brought union, where there was war he brought peace and brought together by Sankaradeva – the father of Assamese nation

The history of the Assamese people, the history of its national awareness is the life of Sankaradeva – he is the pulse of the people. 

It is highly imperative that this great saint receives world attention. And also imperative that the life and philosophy and artistic creations of this great saint be brought to the notice of the wider audience.

On Friday, 29 June, 2012 – a seminar and illustrated talk on Vaishnavite faith and Sattriya culture of Srimanta Sankaradeva, attach with power point presentation of Vrindavani Vastra will be held at The Nehru Centre (the cultural wing of Indian High Commission) . Initiative has been taken by Rini Kakati, NRI Co-ordinator for UK.

Richard Blurton, Head of the South Asian Section in the Department of Asia, British Museum 

Dr Nicolas Sutton, Director of the Oxford Centre for Hindu Studies, University of Oxford 

Dr Audrey Cantlie, author of of the book “The Assamese” and Reader Emeritus in Anthropology at SOAS (School of Oriental and African Studies)Dokho Avatar – An orchestral odyssey of Borgeet composed by Jayanta Pathak will be launch for global audience at this event. This is the first global instrumental album of 500 year old traditional melodies of Assam to the world in his ambitious project “Dokho Avatar”. He is currently based in Atlanta, USA, busy at his studio – Chromatic. Jayanta is popularly known as “King of Remixes” in the musical circle.

Sharodi Saikia – Renowned Sattriya dancer from Assam has been invited to perform “Dokho Avatar” at this prestigious event. At present She, is the Director of Srimanta Sankaradeva Kalakshetra, Guwahati (The Premier Cultural Institution of Assam)




Nissan and The New Stars Of India

We are often advised ‘to think out of the box’ at home. At work by our friends, spouse…In fact thinking out of the box has become the new mantra for creative success. But how much are we successful in doing so? Falling in line and taking off on somebody else’s footsteps is an easier option.

Recently a mail to us forced us to sit up and take notice of its contents as it advertised its project to be the first Bollywood movie to be auditioned in Facebook. Now didn’t that sound like a totally out of box idea. The mail was from Nissan, the Auto giants of India and the project was New Star of India. New Star of India is actually a campaign based on Bollywood and it has all the ingredients of a masala movie like, song, dance, drama and action add to it the star power of Ranbir Kapoor(who incidentally is another new star of India) all packed in a five mins duration, directed by renowned Choreographer Ahmad Khan. Hence in a way it can be called a Bollywood movie rather than a usual ad film due to its wholesomeness. What makes it more unique and interesting are the firsts that are associated with it. 

But first you would like to know more about what New Star of India is all about.

As their spokesman Yuvraj puts it, 

Nissan had created ‘New Star of India’ – the world’s first Bollywood movie auditioned on Facebook. All across India movie enthusiasts auditioned for an opportunity to act alongside Bollywood heart throb Ranbir Kapoor. From well over 2500 hopefuls, 20 were chosen to be in this ground-breaking movie.


The campaign started off in October on Facebook, and has gathered over 4, 60,000 fans. Participants were given the opportunity to show off their dancing skills by recording a short video and uploading it to www.facebook.com/nissanindia. Winners were decided on the basis of public votes and finally shortlisted on expert opinion from Ranbir Kapoor and director/choreographer Ahmed Khan.


The filming for this ambitious project was carried out at Ramoji film city at Hyderabad with several Nissan Micra’s and a cast and crew of over 600 people – one of the largest productions seen in Ramoji.


The excitement did not end here. Nissan ensured that all those who participated and did not win, were not disappointed. Some were given surprise cameo roles and fans were able to participate in the film production process at www.facebook.com/nissanindia


The film is now ready for a red carpet release at Mumbai very soon (Nissan is also giving away a Micra signed by Ranbir to any one lucky fan who has booked a test drive through their Facebook app.) which is a first again, for a promotional campaign.

 That brings us to the the firsts that are associated with the project, which are:-

It is the first Bollywood movie to be auditioned in Facebook. Now that is what we would call taking Social media into another dimension 

It is the first time that Bollywood and Automobiles have been spoken of together.

The format of participation was kept at its simplest so that everyday middle class youngsters get the opportunity of a lifetime- to star along side Ranbir Kapoor. All the enthusiastic participant had to do was log in his/her Facebook account and upload a video for public voting. No quizzes, no phone calls, no long queue, no televised dramas either. Public voting was carried out on Facebook to arrive at winners…out of 2500+ entries, 100 selected on basis of public votes. Out of these 100, 20 best entries selected by Ranbir and Ahmed Khan. You might find it heartening to know Stella Chongtham, who is a winner in the top twenties, is from North East studying in Delhi University.

The promotion is massive, and so is the response to it. Nissan is carrying out some cool and easy contests in their fan page for better participation and interaction by the fans, so that they can keep a tab on their first hand reaction and feedbacks. 

We in Fried Eye will be rolling out a few easy contests in our fried eye fan page based on the New Star of India project in which we will be distributing T shirts sponsored by Nissan as prizes. Well contest is not an ‘out of box idea’ for fun, but fun again doesn’t need one either. So hope you have an enjoyable moment reading about the NSOI and taking part in the contests.

Pyrokinesis – A press release

Press Release



Guwahati based funk band Bluetooth won Pyrokinesis 2012( www.pyrokinesis2012.com ) a annual technical cum cultural fest by Assam Engineering College, while Judas Ancestry was declared runners up. The other bands who made it to final are Hysteria, Machine X, Chamber.

Bluetooth members are:

Pritam Kemprai(Vocals),
Rituparna Choudhury(Guitar),
Rishav Bhuyan(Bass),
Biraj Baishya(Drums)

Facebook page: www.facebook.com/bluetooththeband

Bachpan after pachpan- Passion and Innovation- III

In the third of the series of Passion and innovation, we are bringing before you a beautiful and inspiring account of how passion never dies and if you are innovative enough then, the hidden passion of  yours will always come to the fore, no matter how old you are.


High Street Phoenix is Mumbai’s Largest Shopping & Entertainment Destination located at Lower Parel  is also counted among the top engaging Indian brands on Facebook. With over 70,000 loyal fans, the page is a hub for all things fun!

We witnessed something amazing and special and it is now the latest engaging activity on their page. It was the ‘Bachpan after Pachpan’ flashmob. A group of enthusiastic 55+ years old adults gathered and danced away! They were thinking of nothing else but enjoying themselves & having a good time. As they say truly “Old is Gold” and these “young” adults have proved just that!

High Street Phoenix believes, you can’t stop the clock, but you can keep your spirits young with humor, gratitude, and creativity.

And so they took this a step ahead with a bunch of enthusiastic Wilson College students and organised a flashmob at High Street Phoenix for a group of 50 senior citizens who are truly young at heart. They grooved to hits like ‘dhinka chika’ and several others. They relived their youth!

We are pleased to share with you this remarkable and heartening information of the ‘Bachpan after Pachpan’ flashmob video .

We would love for you have a great time by experiencing the video yourself and share it with your friends.



A Fun Quiz


We have brought before you a small quiz , just for fun, to see how much of a movie do you remember? Does the memory of a movie or a television go beyond the plot and cinematography to theme songs? How many of you can instantly recollect the movie  by listening to its theme music.  Here are a few themes for you to identify. The best part is that , you have to answer purely on the basis of your memory and power of instant recollection instead of googling. So, happy quizzing while munching on the winter goodies .

Theme one-


The next one- Bonus theme

Here is theme 2 for you to identify

Theme 3 for you-

Following theme 3 , we have for you Theme 4 , which is a nice sunny, groovy number.

And finally we have theme 5 for you.

So those were the themes for you. Please leave your replies in the comment thread and we will let you know the answers on 31st January.




The Big Baroda Show- event notification

Announcing the Big Baroda Show

Date: 21 Dec 2011 – 12 Jan 2012

Venue: Priyasri Art Gallery

42, Madhuli, 4th Floor
Shiv Sagar Estate,
Next to Poonam Chamber,
Dr Annie Besant Road,
Mumbai 400018

Time: 11 am to 7 pm


 Participating artists:

Abir Karmarkar, Sunil Mamdapur, Tarun Gajjar, Hrushikesh Biswal, Bhavin Mistry, Dushyant Patel, Mitali, Neha Thakar, Heena Mistry, Mukesha Ganji, PRagati Kumar, Malleshi H.v., Sudip Dutta, Nikita Parikh, Raju Patel, Arunanshu C., Anusuya M., Heeral Trivedi, Nikhileshwar B., Ajay Kanval, Nityanand, Vinod Patel, Wangdi Sherpa, Kiran Varia, Swapnesh V., Ravein Godani, Alok Bal, Debraj Goswami, Apurba Nandi, Shiv Verma, Shefalee Jain, Deepjyoti Kalita, Shatrugan Thakur, Chirag PAtel, Anil Majumdar, Lokesh Khodke,Ronak Sopariwala, Ketan, Ushmita Sahu, Jolly Pramanik, Riya Chatterjee, Deepak Khatri, Rahul Mukherjee, Anuj Poddar, Siddhath K., Manali Mehta, Sumedh Kumar, Meetali Singh, Rachana Badrakiya, Kanika Shah, Rajesh Kumar Prasad, Jagannath Mohapatra, Ashutosh Bharadwaj, Prabhakar Pachpute, Dimple Panchal, Debashish Dutta.

About the show


The Big Baroda show” is showcased every year since past 3 years at the Faculty of Fine Arts, Baroda. Most artists are attached to galleries in cosmopolitan cities, thus “Big Baroda Show” show is an attempt to have a sneak preview of their works under one roof. Its a treat to see 55 young masters. The show was hosted the third time by Priyasri Art Gallery in Baroda, M.S.U. fine Arts.

Our attempt is to have a sneak preview of works of artists who have made Baroda their abode. M.S University has been churning out popular contemporary artist like T.V Santosh, Chintan Updahay. Baroda is a home to many masters who have been attatched to the university or have remained back to make it there home. Surender Nair, G.M Sheikh , K. G Subramanyan, Bhupen Khakhar and many others.

The city is like an Art Capital for the artists if not for the buyer though it boast of patrons who have been exposed to masters like Raja Ravi Verma who was patroned by Maharaja of Baroda , the Gayekwads.

The question is why is Baroda being made a home for so many artists? And which is the art capital of India? Do the artists decide the art capital or the buyer? For the answers , do visit the Big Baroda Show , some of the samples of which have been exhibited here.

Press Release-Competitions in the air

Circalit  has come up with some interesting competitions giving us a chance to win some fabulous prizes as well as get noticed in the literary circles. Check them out and Give flight to your imagination and make your dream to become a famous writer come true.

Ever had an idea for a comedy sketch? Circalit is back once again helping talented comedy writers get their sketches produced and distributed. This time Circalit has teamed up with award-winning filmmaker, Jason Wingard, whose most recent short, “Ben and Jackie” has been short-listed for the Virgin Media Shorts 2011 Short Film competition. The competition is part of Circalit’s Get your Film Made series. The winning script will be directed by Jason, who has worked alongside fantastic comedians such as Johnny Vegas, and companies such as Channel K, MTV and 2-Entertain. Participants are actively encouraged to collaborate with one another to produce the best, most groin-tearingly funny piece of comedy they can. The deadline is Thursday 16th December, and submissions are being read as soon as they’re submitted – so the sooner you enter the better! For more details, check out: http://www.circalit.com/projects/competitions/jason.


Portal Entertainment has announced a £6k global writing competition to create a storyworld: that is, a story told using different types of media across multiple platforms. The winner of the competition will receive £6k to develop their storyworld with Portal Entertainment. The top 5 entries will be given professional feedback from BBC Multiplatform Executive Producer Sarah Clay (Becoming Human, Waterloo Reunited, E20). The deadline for entries is 21st November. For more information please visit www.circalit.com/projects/competitions/immersive.


In partnership with London’s trendiest hangout for creatives, The Hospital Club (www.thehospitalclub.com), and their poet-in-residence, the lyrical prodigy Sabrina Mahfouz, Circalit are extremely pleased to announce a new flash fiction writing competition. Writers are challenged to create a one page story, of whatever genre they please, on the subject of ‘A Chance Encounter’. Sabrina herself will be reading the winning story for an exclusive video-recording and podcast, which will be available on the hospital club website. The winning story will play in the club’s lifts and video screens, and will be plastered up throughout the Hospital Club’s halls for all its glitzy patrons, who include the likes of James Morrison, Kate Moss and Jude Law, to read and enjoy. This is a great opportunity to have your story exposed to a wide and varied creative audience in an original way. The deadline for entries is 1st December. Visit http://www.circalit.com/projects/competitions/hospital for more information.

Robert Tucker

News Alerts

Circalit has just launched a new service enabling aspiring writers to get feedback on their novels directly from important industry professionals such as Silvia Crompton, (senior editor, Random House), Graham Fuller (film critic for New York Times, Sight and Sound etc.) and Tom Lazarus (Hollywood Screenwriter and tutor on the UCLA screenwriting course). Writers receive a detailed critique of their novel and its suitability for market, and if the novel is recommended by a professional reviewer, it will be taken forward to agents and publishers (at no cost to the writer) through the Circalit Gold List.

At the moment, they are offering huge discounts.You can get a feedback report from Anna Jean Hughes (editor, Random House) for only £120, or Pria Taneja (editorial, Harper Collins) for only £99. Please have a look at www.circalit.com/profiles/reviewer for more information.


Coming up is this alert from The Indian Music Mug of  an evening of instrumental classical music with Eastern Beats Music Society at Shilpgram on September 4th  featuring Uttam Bhattacharjee (hindustani slide guitar), Maitreyee Goswami (sitar), Ashok Talukdar (Flute) and Dibyojyoti Changmai (tabla). Organized by ICCR, under Ministry of External Affairs, in association with NEZCC, under Ministry of Culture.

Agneepath – Fried Eye exclusive promo

News from overseas-A press release

Lok Sabha Speaker Meira Kumar has lauded the achievements of NRIs in the U.K., saying the country is proud of them.

“You have achieved so much, we are proud of your achievements,” she said during a dinner which she hosted at the Bombay Brasserie recently.Prominent among those present included Lord Navnit Dholakia, Deputy Leader of the Liberal Democrats in the House of Lords; Lord Dolar Popat, Lord Karan Billimoria and Virender Sharma, MP and Rini Kakati.
Ms. Meira Kumar is heading the Indian delegation to the 57th Commonwealth Parliamentary conference being held here from July 25 to 28.More than 600 Parliamentarians from 175 Commonwealth Parliaments and Legislatures are attending the conference to exchange views on global political issues and developments in the parliamentary system.
“Reinforcing Democracy” is the theme of the conference.
The Indian delegation includes Dr. Killi Kruparani, MP, Syed Shahnawaz Hussain, MP, Arjun Charan Sethi, MP, Mukut Mithi from Arunachal Pradesh and Tanka Bahadur Rai. Deputy Speaker, ASSAM  and Balbir Punj, MP.

Independence Day

Fried Eye and Food Desk wishes its readers prosperity and happiness on the occasion of Independence Day