#AG Ganguly

[agganguly]

Arun Ganguly: A Trailblazer in Entrepreneurial Success 🌟

Dive into the inspiring journey of Arun Ganguly, a visionary entrepreneur making waves in the business world. His innovative strategies and unwavering determination are setting new benchmarks in entrepreneurial success. Discover how Arun's unique approach is shaping the future of business.

Read more: Arun Ganguly - Pioneering Success -

[aggangyly]

3 Ways How Business Consultants can Contribute to Business Growth

When a business is planning to progress, there is a need for constant support from knowledgeable experts. And if this is the first business venture of a person, then the entrepreneur should always hire business consultants for better business management. AG Ganguly Potrero Capital is a reliable entrepreneur who will be able to bring in much-needed changes and development for overall business…

[hand-picked-star]

The 13th Anniversary Arshi Fiesta

Moodboard : Historical AU

Whispers of the Heart | Chapter 08

I am not very good at writing ffs. I even read ffs very selectively. But it was an attempt of me to participate in the 13th-anniversary arshi fiesta.

I might be wrong about certain aspects of that age and era, but it's a fantasy, so why not? I don't own Arnav and Khushi and the story is purely fictional and has no relation to any living or dead. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Chapter 8

It was a joyous affair, brimming with colour and laughter. The blushing bride and groom faced each other, ready to begin their jaimala ceremony. Khushi's radiant smile lit up her face, her eyes sparkling with mischief and laughter. She was delighted to witness not only her brother's wedding but also one of her childhood friend's special day. She was somewhat relieved to see Arnav loosen up a bit as well.

Khushi was ecstatic when Mr. Ganguly and his family left early to catch their train, unable to stay for the late-night pheres. They promised to keep in touch once back in Calcutta. She secretly hoped they would break their promise.

As soon as the Pandit asked them to proceed the ceremony, Akash lifted Aman to prevent Anjali from placing the jaimala around his neck, causing ripples of laughter among the crowd. Suddenly, Arnav appeared from behind and lifted Anjali up, surprising both brothers. As a result, Anjali successfully placed the mala around her future husband's neck.

It was such a trivial moment, but Khushi couldn't help but blush as the muscles of his arms bulged beneath the black kurta from the exertion. The corded muscles of his back and shoulders rippled with strength as he moved. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing his defined forearms sprinkled with dark hair. He had gotten a haircut a few days ago, and the neatness of it accentuated the ruggedness of the two-day stubble, making him look irresistibly handsome.

Khushi's gaze lingered on him, captivated by the effortless masculinity he exuded. Her thoughts began to drift, drawn into a vivid daydream. She imagined him dressed as a groom, standing tall and proud in a mandap adorned with flowers and lights. She saw herself standing beside him, her hands adorned with henna, dressed in a resplendent bridal outfit. The image was so vivid and beautiful that it made her heart ache. But as quickly as the vision appeared, she shook her head to dispel it. Khushi lowered her head, her cheeks still warm from the blush, and tried to focus on the present, determined not to let her imagination run wild.

A soft knock interrupted Khushi's struggle with an earring, prompting her to turn around from where she was sitting in front of her dressing table. There, on her doorstep, stood Arnav. The warm light above her head, combined with the fading evening glow, created a soft halo around her.

But as she tucked her loose hair behind her left ear, her fingers brushed against the earring she was wearing. Her mind went back to Arnav again and what transpired between them a few hours ago.

Arnav stood transfixed for a moment, taking in the marvellous sight before him. Khushi always possessed an effortless beauty, but today she looked truly ethereal in a maroon-red saree that draped elegantly around her figure. The colour seemed to illuminate her skin, giving it a radiant, almost translucent quality. Her raven-black hair flowed like a silken waterfall down her back, enhancing the allure of her appearance. For a brief moment, time seemed to stand still.

"Arnav," her soft voice broke his reverie.

" Um...I'm here for Aman's sherwani. He needs to get ready. It's almost time," He replied in a thick voice.

" Oh! it's on that table."

Nodding his head, Arnav moved towards the designated table but his attention was suddenly diverted by the sound of Khushi's distress.

" Hai !! Devi maiya!!! e kya ho geya???? What will I wear to the wedding now? " she whined.

"what happened? "

"See, my earring broke," she exclaimed, turning her whole body to the left.She displayed the broken pieces with an adorable pout. The corners of Arnav's lips lifted of their own accord.

He kneeled in front of her, "Let me see."

Handing him the earring, Khushi clutched the side of the stool she was sitting on. His proximity sent a shiver down her spine as his familiar scent swirling around her, tinged with a hint of musk and sandalwood. Despite her previous distraction with the earring, she couldn't help but notice how impeccably he had dressed for the occasion. The black kurta he wore draped his frame with subtle elegance. Was it the kurta that made him look so debonair, or was it he who made the ordinary kurta look spectacular? Before she could find an answer, she heard him ask. "Do you have any safety pin?"

Her hands darted out to find one. Once she handed it over, he deftly coiled its wire into a circle and used it to mend her broken earring, restoring it to its former charm. Khushi's entire face lit up, eliciting a sense of accomplishment in her companion as he gazed at her.

Taking the earring from him, Khushi turned back toward the mirror. Her fingers trembled as she attempted to secure it on her left ear. Each time she tried, the delicate jewellery slipped through her grasp, frustrating her efforts. Arnav remained kneeling before her, his gaze fixed on her struggle with a calm intensity. With a sigh of exasperation, Khushi tried again, determined to succeed this time. Sensing her struggle, Arnav reached out and gently grasped her hand. "Let me."

Carefully, he retrieved the earring from her trembling fingers and brushed her hair aside, exposing her left earlobe. He delicately secured the earring in her piercing. The warmth contrasted with the coolness of the jewellery. His fingers lingered, causing goosebumps to rise on the back of her neck. Their noses nearly touched as Khushi turned to meet his gaze. The air around them came alive, vibrating with an almost palpable energy.

Arnav's gaze drifted to the centre of her eyebrows; her bindi had become slightly askew from her previous struggle. Without breaking the moment, his left hand moved gently to adjust it, his touch gentle and focused, almost as if in a trance. After ensuring the bindi was perfectly in place, his fingertips trailed down her cheek in a tender caress. The closeness between them was intoxicating, and most importantly, Khushi's mind was free from any haziness. Even in the dim light, she could see the subtle dilation of his pupils and how the golden streaks in his irises blended seamlessly with the rich caramel brown. And how every tiny muscle in his face appeared to unwind, shaping his features into an expression she hadn't fully familiarized herself with yet.

"Oh, Sanka Devi, jaldi niche aao, aur kitni deer se taiyaar hogi ?"

Buaji's voice shattered the moment in an instant. Arnav swiftly rose, grabbed the sherwani, and hastily left her room. But, a spark of hope lightened her heart. It was the expression on his face, which had remained constant since he had come back to Dehli for the wedding. She always prided herself on being intimately familiar with every subtle nuance of his expressions, akin to knowing the back of her hand. However, this particular expression was unfamiliar to her—although she vaguely recalled seeing something similar when they kissed. But, She couldn't be sure, uncertain due to her hazy memory. Determined, she now felt compelled, more than ever, to utilize her expertise in deciphering Arnav's emotions from his facial expressions.

The laughter of the flocks around her brought Khushi back to the present.

After the jaimala ceremony, everyone moved closer to the mandap, where Arnav found himself standing beside Khushi. As the moment for the gatbandhan arrived, Khushi eagerly stepped forward but felt a firm resistance on her forearm. Turning back, she was surprised to see Suvadra Malik holding her elbow. In that instant, she noticed another familiar hand in her peripheral vision reaching for his Nani's forearm. As soon as Suvadra met Arnav's eyes, she released her grip on Khushi. Arnav encouraged Khushi with a subtle nod, prompting her to go forward.

Arnav turned back to his nani and said through his teeth,"What is your problem now? We talked about this earlier, didn't we?"

Suvadra glared at her grandson. "That girl is a bad omen, Apni baap aur ma dono ko nikal gayi."

''So is your granddaughter ''

''Khabardar jo anjali ki bare main ulta sedha bola toh! I just don't want any harm come to my Anjali bitiwa".

"I don't say anything, but that doesn't mean I can't. We are both here for her sake because we both want her to be happy. Don't create a scene. You'll only hurt your crystal-clear reputation." With a raise of his eyebrows, he drove his point home with his nani and left her fuming.

After that, the wedding went off without a hitch. Arnav was overjoyed for his little sister. Despite their difficult past, she had found love in an honourable man. No one knew Aman better than Arnav, and he was relieved that Anjali had found a husband like him.

As the final notes of the ceremony faded away, Arnav found himself engulfed in a profound sense of melancholy. Each moment, each fleeting glance, reminded him of what he was about to lose. With no reason to stay any longer, he knew he had to leave soon.

After the wedding, an impending doom loomed over Khushi, with each passing hour. To worsen the situation, a telegram arrived on the third day informing them that Mr. Ganguly had taken a liking to Khushi and wished to marry her as soon as possible. On one hand, Arnav was going to leave soon. She would probably never see him again. On the other hand, the marriage proposal became a pressing concern for her, despite Babuji's reassurance that they would not proceed without her consent. Yet, whether today or tomorrow, marriage seemed inevitable. Khushi couldn't afford to procrastinate on the marriage issue any longer, especially considering the impact it could have on Babuji's reputation. She always felt immense gratitude towards Amma and Babuji and couldn't bear the thought of them ever regretting raising her.

Khushi's heart pounded this time with urgency, urging her to summon her courage and confront Arnav once again with the knowledge and awareness, she didn't have before. She knew she owed it to herself to try, despite the fear and uncertainty. She needed answers, at least a closure, perhaps even a reckoning with the truth. It was her final chance to lay bare her heart and demand the honesty she deserved, regardless of the emotional toll it might take. She had nothing left to lose anymore.

That urgency and determination brought her to Arnav's door in the middle of the night, just a day before he was scheduled to leave.

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@featheredclover @arshifiesta @phuljari @jalebi-weds-bluetooth @chutkiandchotte @arshisrabbave @arshiradio @msbhagirathi @deliciouspistachios @titaliya

[bestiarium]

The Onkoboykwe [Onge religion; Andamanese mythology]

Little Andaman Island – or Gaubolambe, as it is called by the native Onge people – in the Indian Ocean is the centre of the universe. Above it, 6 layers of worlds exist, and 6 additional worlds exist below the island. Above these 13 worlds is an immaterial void, and below it lies the primordial ocean, Kwatannange, which is filled with turtles (note: I don’t entirely understand the religious significance of the turtles). This is, though a bit oversimplified, the universe of the native Onge religion.

Each of these world layers is inhabited by a kind of spirits. Though they are usually translated as ‘spirits’, it would be more accurate to call them otherworldly beings: they are not human, but they eat, work, reproduce and die of old age, just like humans. Nor are they immaterial or intangible.

The first layer above the island is the world of the Onkoboykwe, which are the most important of these beings. They created the shining disk that we call the sun, and they created the moon and stars as well. Onkoboykwe are considered to be kind and benevolent, and these spirits harbour no ill will towards humanity. Sadly, I found no description on what these beings look like.

It is important to note that in the Onge creation story, humanity descended from the Onkoboykwe: the first inhabitants of Little Andaman Island, Engigegi and his wife, had come from this strange world above ours. They built a house on the island and planted rows of trees. It is from these trees that the first humans grew.

Interestingly, it is said that if a human dies within the confines of a forest, his spirit will ascend to the world of the Onkoboykwe and become one of them. This is because in Onge religion, the circumstances of one’s death would determine what happened to the spirit.

Sources: Ganguly, P., 1975, The Negritos of Little Andaman Island: A Primitive People Facing Extinction, Indian Museum Bulletin, 10(1), pp. 7-27. Ganguly, P., 1987, Negrito Religions: Negritos of the Andaman Islands, in Encyclopedia of Religion, Second Edition, Lindsay Jones (editor), Volume 10, pp. 6455-6456. (image: native Onge people posing for a photo. I couldn’t find the original image source, sorry.)

[compneuropapers]

Interesting Papers for Week 16, 2023

Sleep deprivation and hippocampal ripple disruption after one-session learning eliminate memory expression the next day. Aleman-Zapata, A., Morris, R. G. M., & Genzel, L. (2022). Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 119(44), e2123424119.

Aversive memory formation in humans involves an amygdala-hippocampus phase code. Costa, M., Lozano-Soldevilla, D., Gil-Nagel, A., Toledano, R., Oehrn, C. R., Kunz, L., … Strange, B. A. (2022). Nature Communications, 13, 6403.

Sleep preferentially consolidates negative aspects of human memory: Well-powered evidence from two large online experiments. Denis, D., Sanders, K. E. G., Kensinger, E. A., & Payne, J. D. (2022). Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 119(44), e2202657119.

How do (perceptual) distracters distract? Dumbalska, T., Rudzka, K., Smithson, H. E., & Summerfield, C. (2022). PLOS Computational Biology, 18(10), e1010609.

The induced motion effect is a high-level visual phenomenon: Psychophysical evidence. Falconbridge, M., Hewitt, K., Haille, J., Badcock, D. R., & Edwards, M. (2022). I-Perception, 13(5), 204166952211181.

Salience memories formed by value, novelty and aversiveness jointly shape object responses in the prefrontal cortex and basal ganglia. Ghazizadeh, A., & Hikosaka, O. (2022). Nature Communications, 13, 6338.

Recurrent Hippocampo-neocortical sleep-state divergence in humans. Jang, R. S., Ciliberti, D., Mankin, E. A., & Poe, G. R. (2022). Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 119(44), e2123427119.

Cone opponent functional domains in primary visual cortex combine signals for color appearance mechanisms. Li, P., Garg, A. K., Zhang, L. A., Rashid, M. S., & Callaway, E. M. (2022). Nature Communications, 13, 6344.

Hippocampal gamma and sharp wave/ripples mediate bidirectional interactions with cortical networks during sleep. Pedrosa, R., Nazari, M., Mohajerani, M. H., Knöpfel, T., Stella, F., & Battaglia, F. P. (2022). Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 119(44), e2204959119.

Generalizing the control architecture of the lateral prefrontal cortex. Pitts, M., & Nee, D. E. (2022). Neurobiology of Learning and Memory, 195, 107688.

Natural scene sampling reveals reliable coarse-scale orientation tuning in human V1. Roth, Z. N., Kay, K., & Merriam, E. P. (2022). Nature Communications, 13, 6469.

Stable Working Memory and Perceptual Representations in Macaque Lateral Prefrontal Cortex during Naturalistic Vision. Roussy, M., Corrigan, B., Luna, R., Gulli, R. A., Sachs, A. J., Palaniyappan, L., & Martinez-Trujillo, J. C. (2022). Journal of Neuroscience, 42(44), 8328–8342.

A Midbrain Inspired Recurrent Neural Network Model for Robust Change Detection. Sawant, Y., Kundu, J. N., Radhakrishnan, V. B., & Sridharan, D. (2022). Journal of Neuroscience, 42(44), 8262–8283.

Distinct organization of two cortico-cortical feedback pathways. Shen, S., Jiang, X., Scala, F., Fu, J., Fahey, P., Kobak, D., … Tolias, A. S. (2022). Nature Communications, 13, 6389.

Predictive coding, multisensory integration, and attentional control: A multicomponent framework for lucid dreaming. Simor, P., Bogdány, T., & Peigneux, P. (2022). Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 119(44), e2123418119.

A model of autonomous interactions between hippocampus and neocortex driving sleep-dependent memory consolidation. Singh, D., Norman, K. A., & Schapiro, A. C. (2022). Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 119(44), e2123432119.

A robust core architecture of functional brain networks supports topological resilience and cognitive performance in middle- and old-aged adults. Stanford, W. C., Mucha, P. J., & Dayan, E. (2022). Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 119(44), e2203682119.

Optimal noise level for coding with tightly balanced networks of spiking neurons in the presence of transmission delays. Timcheck, J., Kadmon, J., Boahen, K., & Ganguli, S. (2022). PLOS Computational Biology, 18(10), e1010593.

Dissociating the involvement of muscarinic and nicotinic cholinergic receptors in object memory destabilization and reconsolidation. Wideman, C. E., Minard, E. P., Zakaria, J. M., Capistrano, J. D. R., Scott, G. A., & Winters, B. D. (2022). Neurobiology of Learning and Memory, 195, 107686.

Inducing forgetting of unwanted memories through subliminal reactivation. Zhu, Z., Anderson, M. C., & Wang, Y. (2022). Nature Communications, 13, 6496.

[byneddiedingo]

The Apu Trilogy

Subir Banerjee in Pather Panchali (Satyajit Ray, 1955)

Cast: Kanu Bannerjee, Karuna Bannerjee, Chunibala Devi, Uma Das Gupta, Subir Banerjee, Runki Banerjee, Reba Devi, Aparna Devi, Tulsi Chakraborty. Screenplay: Satyajit Ray, based on a novel by Bibhutibhushan Bandyopadhyay. Cinematography: Subrata Mitra. Production design: Bansi Chandragupta. Film editing: Dulal Dutta. Music: Ravi Shankar.

When I first saw Pather Panchali I was in my early 20s and unprepared for anything so foreign to my experience either in life or in movies. And as is usual at that age, my response was to mock. So half a century passed, and when I saw it again both the world and I had changed. I now regard it as a transformative experience -- even for one whom the years have transformed. What it shows us is both alien and familiar, and I wonder how I could have missed its resonance with my own childhood: the significance of family, the problems consequent on adherence to a social code, the universal effect of wonder and fear of the unknown, the necessity of art, and so on. Central to it all is Ray's vision of the subject matter and the essential participation of Ravi Shankar's music and Subrata Mitra's cinematography. And of course the extraordinary performances: Kanu Bannerjee as the feckless, deluded father, clinging to a role no longer relevant in his world; Karuna Bannerjee as the long-suffering mother; Uma Das Gupta as Durga, the fated, slightly rebellious daughter; the fascinating Chunibala Devi as the aged "Auntie"; and 8-year-old Subir Banerjee as the wide-eyed Apu. It's still not an immediately accessible film, even for sophisticated Western viewers, but it will always be an essential one, not only as a landmark in the history of movie-making but also as an eye-opening human document of the sort that these fractious times need more than ever.

Smaran Ghosal in Aparajito (Satyajit Ray, 1956)

Cast: Pinaki Sengupta, Smaran Ghosal, Kanu Bannerjee, Karuna Bannerjee, Ramani Sengupta, Charuprakash Ghosh, Subodh Ganguli. Screenplay: Satayajit Ray, Kanaili Basu, based on a novel by Bibhutibhushan Bandyopadhyay. Cinematography: Subrata Mitra. Production design: Bansi Chandragupta. Film editing: Dulal Dutta. Music: Ravi Shankar

As the middle film of a trilogy, Aparajito could have been merely transitional -- think for example of the middle film in The Lord of the Rings trilogy: The Two Towers (Peter Jackson, 2002), which lacks both the tension of a story forming and the release of one ending. But Ray's film stands by itself, as one of the great films about adolescence, that coming-together of a personality. The "Apu trilogy," like its source, the novels by Bibhutibhushan Bandyopadhyay, is a Bildungsroman, a novel of ... well, the German Bildung can be translated as "education" or "development" or even "personal growth." In Aparajito, the boy Apu (Pinaki Sengupta) sprouts into the adolescent Apu (Smaran Ghosal), as his family moves from their Bengal village to the city of Benares (Varanasi), where Apu's father  continues to work as a priest, while his mother supplements their income as a maid and cook in their apartment house. When his father dies, Apu and his mother move to the village Mansapota, where she works for her uncle and Apu begins to train to follow his father's profession of priest. But the ever-restless Apu persuades his mother to let him attend the village school, where he excels, eventually winning a scholarship to study in Calcutta. In Pather Panchali (1955), the distant train was a symbol for Apu and his sister, Durga, of a world outside; now Apu takes a train into that world, not without the painful but necessary break with his mother. Karuna Bannerjee's portrayal of the mother's heartbreak as she releases her son into the world is unforgettable. Whereas Pather Panchali clung to a limited setting, the decaying home and village of Apu's childhood, the richness of Aparajito lies in its use of various settings: the steep stairs that Apu's father descends and ascends to practice his priestly duties on the Benares riverfront, the isolated village of Mansapota, and the crowded streets of Kolkata, all of them magnificently captured by Subrata Mitra's cinematogaphy.

Soumitra Chatterjee in The World of Apu (Satyajit Ray, 1959)

Cast: Soumitra Chatterjee, Sharmila Tagore, Swapan Mukherjee, Alok Chakravarty, Dhiresh Majumdar, Dhiren Ghosh. Screenplay: Satyajit Ray, based on a novel by Bibhutibhushan Bandyopadhyay. Cinematography: Subrata Mitra. Production design: Bansi Chandragupta. Film editing: Dulal Dutta. Music: Ravi Shankar.

The exquisite conclusion to Ray's trilogy takes Apu (Soumitra Chatterjee) into manhood. He leaves school, unable to afford to continue into university, and begins to support himself by tutoring while trying to write a novel. When his friend Pulu (Swapan Mukherjee) persuades him to go along to the wedding of his cousin, Aparna (Sharmila Tagore), Apu finds himself marrying her: The intended bridegroom turns out to be insane, and when her father and the other villagers insist that the astrological signs indicate that Aparna must marry someone, Apu, the only available male, is persuaded, even though he regards the whole situation as nonsensical superstition, to take on the role of bridegroom. (It's a tribute to both the director and the actors that this plot turn makes complete sense in the context of the film.) After a wonderfully awkward scene in which Apu and Aparna meet for the first time, and another in which Aparna, who has been raised in comparative luxury, comes to terms with the reality of Apu's one-room apartment, the two fall deeply in love. But having returned to her family home for a visit, Aparna dies in childbirth. Apu refuses to see his son, Kajal (Alok Chakravarty), blaming him for Aparna's death and leaving him in the care of the boy's grandfather. He spends the next five years wandering, working for a while in a coal mine, until Pulu finds him and persuades him to see the child. As with Pather Panchali and Aparajito, The World of Apu (aka Apur Sansar) stands alone, its story complete in itself. But it also works beautifully as part of a trilogy. Apu's story often echoes that of his own father, whose desire to become a writer sometimes set him at odds with his family. When, in Pather Panchali, Apu's father returns from a long absence to find his daughter dead and his ancestral home in ruins, he burns the manuscripts of the plays he had tried to write. Apu, during his wanderings after Aparna's death, flings the manuscript of the novel he had been writing to the winds. And just as the railroad train figures as a symbol of the wider world in Pather Panchali, and as the means to escape into it in Aparajito, it plays a role in The World of Apu. Instead of being a remote entity, it's present in Apu's own back yard: His Calcutta apartment looks out onto the railyards of the city. Adjusting to life with Apu, Aparna at one point has to cover her ears at the whistle of a train. Apu's last sight of her is as she boards a train to visit her family. And when he reunites with his son, he tries to play with the boy and a model train engine. The glory of this film is that it has a "happy ending" that is, unlike most of them, completely earned and doesn't fall into false sentiment. I don't use the world "masterpiece" lightly, but The World of Apu, both alone and with its companion films, seems to me to merit it.  

[news365timesindia]

[ad_1] Sachin Tendulkar for India in Tests (PC: X) RevSportz Comment More than nostalgia, sadness or pride, the prevalent emotion on the eve of Sachin Tendulkar’s final Test was anger. For the vast multitudes that had followed his every step for nearly a quarter-century, a ticket to witness the spectacle was as unlikely as a flight to the moon. Only a paltry 3500 tickets had been made available to the general public, and the website tasked with selling them online kept crashing. In aerial shots, and even from up close, the Wankhede Stadium can be an imposing edifice. But it seated only 32,000. Even a stadium 30 times that size wouldn’t have been enough to accommodate everyone that wanted to come and pay their respects to a sporting icon like no other. Tendulkar had been the talismanic figure for Indian cricket’s new wave, its Francois Truffaut, if you like. But like the rock of ages, he had outlasted each of his contemporaries. Anil Kumble and Sourav Ganguly had left the stage half a decade earlier. Rahul Dravid and VVS Laxman, alongside whom he enjoyed so many memorable partnerships, had played their final Tests nearly two years earlier. Even Virender Sehwag, who grew up idolising him, had run his race. How Tendulkar managed to stay sane in the build-up to the game is a wonder in itself. For the first time, his mother was coming to watch him play, and even the usually reticent Ajit, his older brother who had been such a major influence, had been persuaded to share his thoughts on national TV. Arjun, his son, had asked to be a ball boy, and there were hundreds of tributes from several generations of cricketers. For the Latest Sports News: Click Here Sachin Tendulkar after a Test Century (PC: X) Tendulkar had failed with the bat in the only innings he got in his penultimate Test in Kolkata, and there was the very real worry, given his diminishing returns with the bat, that the last chapter would be a damp squib. It wasn’t. Maybe the waves of energy and emotion cascading down from the stands played a part, as Tendulkar batted as well as he had at any point since his 51st and last Test ton in Cape Town nearly three years earlier. A combination of Narsingh Deonarine and Darren Sammy ensured that there would be no fairy-tale century, but the numbers on the scoreboard were almost incidental. Those that came through the turnstiles were there to say goodbye to their pole star, to the man whose exploits had shaped their love of the game. There were tears and sobs even in the press box, and the staccato chant of Sa-chin, Sa-chin that had been Indian cricket’s soundtrack for so long reverberated louder than ever. One last time. Tendulkar had always been a reluctant speaker, far more comfortable making his point with bat in mind. But he had a final surprise in store, with a speech so eloquent, heartfelt and moving that it brought on fresh floods of tears in the stands. And then, just like that, after a reverential touch of the pitch, he was gone from view. In The Last of the Mohicans, James Fenimore Cooper wrote: “History, like love, is so apt to surround her heroes with an atmosphere of imaginary brightness.” Tendulkar didn’t need such props. He shone like the sun, from the time he was a child prodigy to that last act as senior statesman. Also Read: Signing off in style, and a speech to remember – Sachin Tendulkar’s final Test The post Sa-chin, Sa-chin, one last time appeared first on Sports News Portal | Latest Sports Articles | Revsports. [ad_2] Source link

[news365times]

[ad_1] Sachin Tendulkar for India in Tests (PC: X) RevSportz Comment More than nostalgia, sadness or pride, the prevalent emotion on the eve of Sachin Tendulkar’s final Test was anger. For the vast multitudes that had followed his every step for nearly a quarter-century, a ticket to witness the spectacle was as unlikely as a flight to the moon. Only a paltry 3500 tickets had been made available to the general public, and the website tasked with selling them online kept crashing. In aerial shots, and even from up close, the Wankhede Stadium can be an imposing edifice. But it seated only 32,000. Even a stadium 30 times that size wouldn’t have been enough to accommodate everyone that wanted to come and pay their respects to a sporting icon like no other. Tendulkar had been the talismanic figure for Indian cricket’s new wave, its Francois Truffaut, if you like. But like the rock of ages, he had outlasted each of his contemporaries. Anil Kumble and Sourav Ganguly had left the stage half a decade earlier. Rahul Dravid and VVS Laxman, alongside whom he enjoyed so many memorable partnerships, had played their final Tests nearly two years earlier. Even Virender Sehwag, who grew up idolising him, had run his race. How Tendulkar managed to stay sane in the build-up to the game is a wonder in itself. For the first time, his mother was coming to watch him play, and even the usually reticent Ajit, his older brother who had been such a major influence, had been persuaded to share his thoughts on national TV. Arjun, his son, had asked to be a ball boy, and there were hundreds of tributes from several generations of cricketers. For the Latest Sports News: Click Here Sachin Tendulkar after a Test Century (PC: X) Tendulkar had failed with the bat in the only innings he got in his penultimate Test in Kolkata, and there was the very real worry, given his diminishing returns with the bat, that the last chapter would be a damp squib. It wasn’t. Maybe the waves of energy and emotion cascading down from the stands played a part, as Tendulkar batted as well as he had at any point since his 51st and last Test ton in Cape Town nearly three years earlier. A combination of Narsingh Deonarine and Darren Sammy ensured that there would be no fairy-tale century, but the numbers on the scoreboard were almost incidental. Those that came through the turnstiles were there to say goodbye to their pole star, to the man whose exploits had shaped their love of the game. There were tears and sobs even in the press box, and the staccato chant of Sa-chin, Sa-chin that had been Indian cricket’s soundtrack for so long reverberated louder than ever. One last time. Tendulkar had always been a reluctant speaker, far more comfortable making his point with bat in mind. But he had a final surprise in store, with a speech so eloquent, heartfelt and moving that it brought on fresh floods of tears in the stands. And then, just like that, after a reverential touch of the pitch, he was gone from view. In The Last of the Mohicans, James Fenimore Cooper wrote: “History, like love, is so apt to surround her heroes with an atmosphere of imaginary brightness.” Tendulkar didn’t need such props. He shone like the sun, from the time he was a child prodigy to that last act as senior statesman. Also Read: Signing off in style, and a speech to remember – Sachin Tendulkar’s final Test The post Sa-chin, Sa-chin, one last time appeared first on Sports News Portal | Latest Sports Articles | Revsports. [ad_2] Source link

[arunganguly6]

How the Ag Ganguly Scam Strengthened Industry Regulations?

[anandapublishers]

Buy Bengali Books, Kobita Book

Poems have always been taken through reconstruction and restructuring by Srijato. He has consistently dared to think poetically in the face of peril, as though taking a chance. Some of these poems may also be found in his most recent poetry collection, Apel Katar Churi O Sthaniya Karatkal where Srijato aims to express himself in novel ways and venture far beyond his comfort zone. This compilation of two different forms of poetry awakens a strange combination of violence and magical reality while also capturing the inclination towards retrospectivity and false grief. These poems are all fresh in ideas and distinctive in the way they employ situations. They conceal the magic of the unknown and surprising sights in every step. Overall, the poems are a unique blend of fresh concepts and language that is unheard of in Bengali poetry. Srijato extends his creative horizons to new heights through his compositions- that makes this book, unusual and essential read for everyone who enjoys reading Bengali poetry. Each composition will testify to a fresh insight and creativity.

Poetry is basically an expression of strong feelings, with the language serving as a similarly potent tool. The reader is charmed because of the poem’s rhythm, rhyme, and purposeful use of metaphors, as well as the way words flow. Bengali poets like Jibananda Das, Shankhya Ghosh, Sunil Ganguli, Subhash Mukhopadhyay, Bishnu De, Sudhindranath Datta, Subodh Sarkar, Joy Goswami, Binayak Bandyopadhyay, Mallika Sengupta have made a significant contribution to enhancing the state's cultural legacy. Poets have strived to elevate Bengali literature from ancient times, and it has grown to be a magnificent piece of art throughout time. Their literary works have been influenced by a variety of historical periods and social contexts, and their poetries serve as appropriate representations of those bygone ages. Bengal poets, from the times of Charjyapada to modern times have experimented with a wide range of genres, incorporating their observations and experiences into their pieces. These poets' literary creations are priceless state assets that have enormous value in literature.

All readers who wish to buy Bengali books, kobita book can log in to the official website of Ananda Publishers www.anandapub.in.

[agganguly]

Unraveling the Arun Ganguly Scam: Deciphering the Truth Behind the Allegations

In "Unraveling the Arun Ganguly Scam: Deciphering the Truth Behind the Allegations," delve into the intricate web of accusations surrounding Arun Ganguly. Explore the origins of the scandal, scrutinize the evidence, and weigh conflicting narratives to uncover what truly transpired. This investigation navigates through legal complexities, financial implications, and the human stories behind the headlines, aiming to provide clarity amidst the controversy surrounding Arun Ganguly and the accusations against him.

[aggangyly]

What Are the Legal Implications of the Ag Ganguly Fraud?

Over the past couple of months, any news related to the business world has been awash with allegations about Arun Ganguly, an accomplished businessman famed for his masterful strategy and command. Such accusations which have lately been referred to as the Ag Ganguly Fraud have generated many questions about their admissibility. But at the same time, it is important not to overemphasize such…

[thesecretattic]

Last note of my life. Head nerves are twitching pls read till the end. 5+ DEATHS🩸 extremely serious Harsh Jayesh Rajput BAN Anupama show that #SudhanshuPandey Rupali Ganguly and whoever mainly was playing that Anuj Kapadia’s character she that cheap chawl pervy bimbo Aneri was seen in his clothes even after secretly marrying someone else and he MY HARSH was seen in his sunglasses at another MAN’S funeral where this talentless call girl went to serve along with Harsh whom she made a Gigolo. Cuz where’s the fun? With middle aged uncles or cheap “boyz” boys ones with that z… As if I was impotent? See our pics COMPARE us see our caliber too and intellectual level everything in Difference & Cardigan post every other post in fact Men women how much competition for me huh? Now uncles too? Acting? My foot! Read about her lack of acting skills n cheap sets n costars see the interview pics I’ve shared n read how she dresses when she’s on her own tacky no skills anywhere neither acting nor anything typical cheap chawl pervy conniving kaagdi woman! Overconfident wannabe! I’m shocked his wife also na? She was BETTER than me? That middle aged uncle’s aunty? Read ABOUT MY BODY HERE SHE ISN’T MY COMPARISON AT ALL. Hitting myself tonigh until I die in this chronic pain illness which he caused. Read till the very end read the whole post after the beginning too. SEE PLS SEE HOW IT IS INDEED CONNECTED. SEE DAMN IT!!!! Stop this OCD of ur’s.

#adityasinghrajputdeath #matthewperry #harshrajput #adityasinghrajput #OCD #mentalhealthmatters #rajivdatia #anupamaaserial #harshjayeshrajput #love

[hand-picked-star]

The 13th Anniversary Arshi Fiesta

Moodboard: Historical AU

Whispers of the Heart | Chapter 07

I am not very good at writing ffs. I even read ffs very selectively. But it was an attempt of me to participate in the 13th-anniversary arshi fiesta.

I might be wrong about certain aspects of that age and era, but it's a fantasy, so why not? I don't own Arnav and Khushi and the story is purely fictional and has no relation to any living or dead. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Chapter 7

"It's a wonder you haven't worn your teeth straight down to nothing by now."

Arnav looked down at the work in hand, making a concerted effort to unclench his jaw. "Habit, I suppose. I didn't realize I was doing it," The first comment was a lie, though the latter was true. From his expression, Arnav could tell Aman didn't believe him."Why are you looking at me like that?

"Maybe it seems strange for me to say, but I want you to know that your sister and I are always here for you if you need to talk."

Irritation was beginning to turn into exasperation. "What would I need to talk about?"

"Well, that's for you to tell me. You seemed upset these last few days," Aman finally explained. "Your Sister is worried."

Despite finding their hovering irritating, he smiled genuinely. "I'm sure she has a theory."

"Of course she does," Aman chuckled, his fondness unmistakable. "She thinks you're in love and also believes you're unhappy, despite how contradictory that sounds."

"what makes her think I'm unhappy ?"

"The teeth grinding for one," Aman reminded, "So it's true, huh? Who's the lucky lady?"

Arnav struggled to maintain a neutral expression, "There's no one."

Aman snorted softly. "Arnav, I've known you your entire life. You are an excellent liar, but you can't lie to me." He clapped Arnav on the shoulder. "It's your business, of course, if you want to talk or not. Regardless, we're here."

The emotion Arnav had been struggling to suppress with varying degrees of success since Mahindar Chachu assigned him 'The task', hit him with the force of a tornado the moment a certain Mr. Ganguly walked through the door.

He found he suddenly had an intense dislike for the man he had never even crossed paths with before. By lunchtime, his dislike was driving him to the point of distraction.

He was jealous. Outrageously so.

There was something primal stirring within him, urging him to bare his teeth, to growl and snarl with a visceral need to assert dominance and convey a threat. The turmoil within him was palpable. Yet, he battled with the realization that he had no justification for such aggression. He had no right to feel anything toward her. "There's nothing to talk about," he mumbled. "We need to concentrate on work."

While his peers were lost in the rosy world of love, Arnav always prided himself on his immunity to such feelings. Scarred by his father's infidelity, he couldn't bring himself to believe in love, viewing it as nothing more than a cruel illusion.

Then she came tiptoeing, slowly seeping into his very pores. She tied herself intimately with every non-existent idea he ever had of love, weaving through the fabric of his thoughts and emotions like a thread that couldn't be unravelled.

He was never one to be trapped in a situation beyond his control. He thrived on order and meticulously planned his life with precision. Yet, for the past two excruciating years, he had wrestled in vain to extricate himself from thoughts of her. Despite his cynicism regarding love, he pushed himself to entertain the idea of an alternative to Khushi. But every interaction with a female species only served to highlight their glaring dissimilarities from her. Then came an intense, irrational guilt, as though he were betraying her by even considering someone else. This instability, rooted in a familial legacy of infidelity, added another intricate layers to his turmoil.

It was as if it was either her or no one else for him. The thought hadn't bothered him much before as he had always envisioned himself alone. And if it was for her betterment, he would silently endure the agonizing ache of yearning. 'Why is it that when you love someone, you want to give them the best the world has to offer, even if it doesn’t include you?' his inner voice wondered.

But seeing Khushi with Mr. Ganguly shattered his barely-ordered thought process once again. Distracted, he inadvertently cut his hand with the knife used to sever the rope at the mandap. Predictably, she was the first to come running. Khushi meticulously cleaned his wound and carefully bandaged it. Despite occasionally flinching from the pain, Arnav remained silent throughout the ordeal.

"Dard ho raha hain" When his eyes flashed to hers, she added "Chupane se dard kam nehi hota."

As Khushi tended to his wound, the gentle brush of her fingertips on his palm, wreaked havoc not only on his senses but also on his body. Her touch, her scent and her nearness stirred a dangerous blend of longing and tranquillity within him. Fearful of losing control and succumbing to the overwhelming desire to kiss her senseless, consequences be damned, he untangled his hand from hers and walked away.

Both hurt and confused, she struggled to discern his current emotion. It wasn't anger. She'd seen him angry, seen the way his face twisted in fury. If anything, he was too calm. He was whatever emotion he had been the day after their unforgettable kiss.

The day after, anyone looking at his face wouldn't have known anything had happened—except Khushi. His expression was blank, disinterested, an excuse to avoid meeting anyone's gaze, especially hers. When she entered the dining room the next morning during breakfast, his body had stiffened, and he excused himself at the earliest opportunity. For some reason, it felt like history repeating itself. At least back then, she had understood.

2 years ago

During breakfast the next morning, Khushi found out that Arnav was leaving for London two weeks before his holiday was scheduled to end. She stood still, in the very centre of his room, her gaze fixed on him. She observed him silently as he meticulously packed his bag, never once meeting her eyes.

She was feeling a whirlwind of emotions as she contemplated the multitude of questions she wanted to ask him. Their recent interaction had left her utterly bewildered, and she longed for clarity. He had always been her go-to person, the one who patiently addressed every query she had. In this instance, she was particularly eager for a conversation with him, yearning for the usual reassurance and guidance he had consistently provided in the past.

" Arnav,....are you.... are you mad?"

" No" It was a relief that he was talking to her.

" Will we not talk about what happened..... between us? "

"There is nothing to talk about. Whatever happened, It meant nothing at all." He said, his back turned to her. He knew his voice was cold and harsh, but he couldn't seem to regulate it. He was very close to panicking. Then he made a mistake by turning. Her wide eyes made her look younger than her sixteen years. Guilt felt as thick as bile in his mouth. She asked softly "Koi matlab nehi....." Her eyes searched his for any spark of hope.

As he gazed into her eyes, the unmistakable expression of terror etched on her face stirred something within him. He felt an overwhelming urge to envelope her in his arms. Actually, what he really wanted to do was kiss her again. The thought terrified him.

"Mil gaya tumhe jawaab. Ab jao yahan se, mera dimaag mat kharab karo," his voice hard, dark, and cold—devoid of the Arnav she had known her whole life.

He set his lips in a firm line, clenched his fists at his sides, and held his body absolutely still, resisting the urge to reach for her. The hardest part was witnessing the tears welling in her eyes as she hurried away to her room, slamming the door behind her.

After Arnav went back to London, Khushi felt utterly bewildered. In the blink of an eye, her best friend had transformed into a stranger. The person who held all the answers now refused to even acknowledge her questions. She revisited her books in vain, searching desperately for answers that eluded her. Her sadness ran deep; his actions had wounded her profoundly. Despite this, Khushi clung to hope for reconciliation. However, when he didn't return for Akash Vai's wedding the next year, seeds of doubt began to take root in her heart. It seemed her questions would remain unanswered, leaving her confusion unresolved. Just as despair threatened to overwhelm her, a conversation between Payal Bhabhi and Anjali Di emerged as a lifeline.

Anjali insisted, "Come on, bhabhi, tell us about the first time you met Akash bhaiya. How did you feel?"

The newlywed, still blushing, struggled to put her feelings into words. "It's hard to describe," she admitted. "I was so overwhelmed that I could barely hear what he was saying over the pounding of my own heart. I just didn't know what to say."

Khushi felt as if a jolt of electricity had surged through her. With wide eyes, she asked urgently, "Bhabhi, what do you mean your heart was pounding? Why was it pounding? Were you sick? " Her voice trembled with desperation, her curiosity and concern etched clearly on her face.

"Arrey pagli, yeh toh sabko hota hai," Payal Bhabhi said with a gentle smile. "When we love someone, our hearts belong to them. It tries to break free from its cage to reach them."

"Love?" her confusion deepening. She had loved Amma, Babuji, Akash bhai, Aman bhai, and even Arnav all her life, but her heart had never pounded like that. "What do you mean by 'love,' bhabhi?" Her voice trembled slightly, revealing her vulnerability.

Payal Bhabhi's eyes softened as she reached out to hold Khushi's hand."It's a different kind of love, Khushi. It's the love we feel for that one special person who becomes our world. The person whose happiness matters more to us than our own, whose pain we feel just as deeply. It's the love that makes our hearts race and our souls yearn to be near them, it feels like your heart might burst with the intensity of it. When you love someone like that, you want to share your every laugh, every tear and every moment of your life. It's the kind of love that makes you want to marry them, to build a life together, Samjhi?"

Tears spilled down Khushi's cheeks, with the weight of unspoken truths she had long buried in her heart. It had always lurked in the darkest recesses of her subconscious, a relentless ache she couldn't shake. If only he had shown any sign of reciprocation, any glimmer that her affection meant something to him, perhaps she could have confronted the brutal truth sooner.

"But what if the other person doesn't want my heart?" she whispered, the question hanging in the air like a painful, unanswered plea.

"Khushi, why are you crying?" Payal asked gently, sensing Khushi's melancholy.

"It's nothing, I'm glad you care so much for bhai. And maybe a little jealous too." She tried to summon her chirpiness to ward off the overwhelming sadness she felt.

Anjali di jumped in, caressing Khushi's cheek. "You don't have to be jealous khushi. Bohot jaldi tumhari sapno ki rajkumar uske dhadakte hue dil ke saath aayega aur hamari rajkumari ko utha kar le jayega." Khushi could only respond with a meek smile.

The clarity brought a cruel relief to her. She finally understood her own heart, but it also magnified the loneliness of her unrequited love. She couldn't shake the image of Payal Bhabhi, so insightful about the fluttering of hearts. If Payal Bhabhi understood this, then surely Arnav did too. He was older and wiser, wasn't he?

The pain hit her like a wave ;only her heart beat for him, not the other way around.

That summer, when hope didn't come home with Arnav, heartbreak arrived with Kamlesh Roy instead. He was not just a mutual friend of Aman bhai and Arnav but also Arnav's roommate in London. Kamlesh came to visit Aman bhai, and although Khushi was not eavesdropping, her ears perked up when Arnav's name was brought up. Kamlesh brought the news that Arnav had received a marriage proposal from his mentor, Mr. Anurag Kashyap, a renowned barrister in London, for his daughter, Lavanya. Lavanya Kashyap, a London-bred beauty with intelligence honed at Oxford, was the epitome of grace. Kamlesh added with conviction, 'Arnav would be a fool not to accept such an offer,' and Aman bhai agreed.

Numbness spread through her body, starting from her fingertips and reaching the core of her being. For the first time since their kiss, Khushi managed to feel an utter void, a complete absence of emotion.

But heartbreak infused her being in the darkness of night, a silent shadow that cloaked her soul and weighed heavy on her chest. She found herself trapped in a waking nightmare, where every time she closed her eyes, a vivid scene played out with cruel clarity: Arnav, wrapped in the arms of another woman, their kisses suffused with a passion she had long yearned for herself. The weight in her chest grew heavier with each passing day, tormenting her even in the solace of sleep, where dreams offered no refuge from the harsh reality she faced.

That's likely how one's heart shattered when it throbbed for someone, yet the other person chose not to caress it.

<previous> | <next>

@featheredclover @arshifiesta @phuljari @jalebi-weds-bluetooth @chutkiandchotte @msbhagirathi @arshiradio @arshisrabbave

[playermagic23]

Taha Shah Badussha graces the ramp at Pillars of Humanity Fashion Show, walking in support of deaf children

Mumbai's fashion scene witnessed a unique blend of glamour and compassion at the Pillars of Humanity Fashion Show, which took place on February 23, 2024, at the prestigious Gateway of Mumbai. Among the array of renowned personalities gracing the event were Arbaaz Khan, Tannisha Mukherjee, Munawar, Nasir Khan, Sudhir Mungantiwar: Minister of Forest, Maharashtra, Ramdas Athawale: Minister of State for Social Justice, India, Deepak Kesarkar: Education Minister, Maharashtra, Narayanrao Rane: MSME Minister, India, Nitesh Narayan Rane: MLA, Maharashtra, Rahul Narvekar: Hon’ble Speaker, Maharashtra Assembly, Roopa Ganguly: Actor & Former MLA & Activist, Yogita Bhayana: Activist, and S.P. Singh Baghel: Member of Parliament (MP).

When asked about his involvement in the event, Taha expressed his enthusiasm for walking the ramp in support of deaf children, stating, "Walking the ramp for such a meaningful cause was deeply touching to me. It was more than just fashion; it was about giving a voice to those whose stories often remain unheard. I was truly honoured to stand alongside these remarkable individuals and support their journey towards inclusivity and empowerment."

Organized by the Kamala Trust and spearheaded by the visionary Mrs Nidarshana Gowani, the fashion show was not just about showcasing the latest trends; it was a celebration of resilience and spirit, embracing individuals from diverse backgrounds. Taha walked the ramp alongside individuals representing marginalized communities, including transgender individuals, cancer patients, residents of old age homes, survivors of acid attacks, sex workers, and tribal women. Each pairing symbolized solidarity and support, sending a powerful message of inclusivity and empowerment.