Sipra's Diary : (Prep) Modern Art [satiric story.].> 2026

 

                                   Modern Art......[ satire ]
       words=550// 


     Whenever I hear  some passionate  art-lover discussing 'modern art'  I feel  amused  to remember the  story about  buffoonery  of  so called  modern art .

Because   my mind   captures  some funny story  heard from my mother. It was a time when modern art or the poem was not very much appreciated or popular among the common people. It was considered to be appreciated by only intellectuals .

 It was considered as obscure and inconceivable by common people as    the paintings were considered  to be  mostly subjective and highly intellectual: 

-the more obscure meant   more intellectual. 

Calcutta has a  fame for being  the  center  of art and literature from the beginning of    the British rule.   There was competition among the then  wealthy aristocratic  Bengali  class to arrange  art exhibition  to  proof  own  superiority among one another.

Once it happened  a wealthy boastful  Bengali  'Babu'  arranged an   exhibition of "modern art" and     invited other respectables   of the town  to have a visit. On the closing day,  'Babu' visited all the paintings one by one and    he was stuck in front of a large baroque frame holding only a  spotless white sheet of paper. It was the    most   expensive painting of the gallery.  The   artist  himself (who was actually an imposter )was  standing by the side  of  it.  

 The Babu threw an angry look to the artist. The clever man (who was not an artist at all)  Promptly    began to explain, 

 

" Sir, this  piece is a quintessential form of 'modern art   which is known as 'Abstract

 

 Art'  : it is  purely   subjective  and intellectual."

  The Babu  gazed at the spotless sheet and then towards the  artist questionably. He

 

  Grunted  in anger,  

 

 " But I  don't see any painting   in the frame!"  

The con-artist continued, " Let me explain to you ;  it is a painting of a cow who is grazing to the vegetable garden of some other one , ok? "

-"But where is the cow and where are the green plants of vegetables?'

Artist chuckled: "Sir, how can the cow resist from finishing the plants with 

 

delicious  vegetables ?".

 

 Looking to the blank canvas  Babu  confronted  further  to the Con artist , 

-"So where is the Cow"?

The artist answered dramatically, " that's really a tragic story ! The farmer was so angry that he beat it  causing to  death!"  That's why neither cow nor  vegetables are  visible in the picture ; they are   totally vanished  from   the frame.  

-" hmm...., I see".....  Babu nodded his head  in appreciation ; 

 

"quite interesting!" - he murmured with surprise.

 

Being influenced by the con-man,  Babu  asked curiously,  'But where is the farmer?"

-"Oh sir, the owner of the cow sends him to jail. Killing a cow is a heinous crime for the  Hindu , you   know!"

"So though the frame is  visibly  blank  to common people, there lies a profound story underlying  this 'Abstract art' , only for those who  have a subtle sense of understanding  ‘miracle  of  art!’    The artist narrated   convincingly.

     Now the Babu  was convinced and pleased  with  this explanation . His ego blinded him to understand   that he was befooled! 

 

He purchased  the painting with high  price to become the  proud owner of the  the most expensive painting  to decor  his drawing-room  and to prove himself a  real connoisseur of abstract  art!

 

            Moral:      

                     "The fool are trapped by blind ego and fake  identity."

Sipra's Diary: Poem> "WISDOM"

 

                                     WISDOM.

Words-122                          lines-17/  

   

'"Knowledge is Power" as per  adage 

But it becomes a fallacy 

When wisdom is lost in  knowledge .

It is common blunder to consider both as twin; 

Wisdom is diving deep to the labyrinth of ocean,

Collecting  the pearl from fundamental of life: spirituality;

It is the fountain of insight, imagination and creativity!

Socrates (and many others) was known as 'man of wisdom'

Though not having great experience of information!

Knowledge drives in researching, exploring new subject, 

To utilize and help others to be enlightened! 

Knowledge and wisdom closely related but not the same   

It is best way to feel and judge their difference: 

Knowledge is a precious gem having only weight,

While wisdom is the dazzling spark   that gem inherits.

 

********************************************

 

 

 

Sipra's Diary: #....."Netaji Subhaschandra"....& Calcutta bookfair.

     " Adesh chilo, Delhi Cholo,

         Delhi mora Joi korechi ,

         Aj Tumi Kotha  Netaji!"

We grew up breathing  in  the elixir of patriotism ; The current flew   strong & powerful throughout our school life....,. 

My eldest brother of 13/ 14  years old,  who tried to sow seed of patriotism in     neighborhood  children team .   He taught them marching and patriotic music...... 

 My brother led the team of children to march with the music below:

 #. KADAM KADAM BARAYE JA,

      KHUSHISE GEET GAYEJA ,

       " YE  JINDEGI HAI  KAUMODI."

.......I was then too young to speak distinctly ; I  used to  sing  the last line  from my sister's lap  

        like....      " e-jing- b-jing- korbo-ki"!

All others made fun of it .

My father was posted in  HAZARIBAGH,,Bihar.

All the wealthy and elite class people of Calcutta [. so called 'Babus"] used to come for "change"in the healthy region of Bihar ;  Hazaribag , Ranchi Modhupur Giridih,  Jhajha, Jashidih , shimultala, Deoghar were  famous  among them. These wealthy people had their own buildings with large garden having variety of fruits and flowers  There were  gardeners,   care-takers  to look after the property. Throughout the year the children entered the garden for grabbing fruits by jumping over  the wall until they were chased by guard  to get out ! Sometimes the guard remained cool ;because the fruits were too abundant to be consumed by the boys.It was a time far from the hotel business flourished ! Most Babus had luxurious arrangements in the building ,not less than any starred hotel.

My father became close friend with some of the "babu" family. I mentioned  my father's story  in my google 'Blog' account. But now I will add a new story. 

Netaji's family  also used to come every year in Hazaribagh. I don't know whether that was their own house or rented !

They used to invite my father's family in  the 'yangna,'  performed at the end of 'SatyaNarayan   puja. It was perhaps  about 1946,  before India owned independence.

When the most invitees left, my mother asked Netaji's mother about Netaji curiously,

"  Do you think Netaji is still alive?"

Netaji's  mother  smiled sadly ; then shifting eyes from curious face of my mother  she replied,  

"Sure, he is alive very much to me!" 

Mom:   [in whispering voice] "may I know where he is now hiding? I wouldn't tell anybody!"

By the time my father came to call my mom. He started  asking common formal conversation with Netaji's  mother; before leaving .

Dr. Sunil Basu [ Netaji's brother] treated my brother and saved him from critical condition. My brother had  typhoid and Septic mumps  simultaneously. Dr. Sunil Bose operated him in our house .  He brought all his surgical instruments necessary for operation and asked my mom to boil water .  

He himself came near the kichen for more boiled water . My mother was frying some "pokora / chop." 

He sniffed and asked my mother  to taste some warm fries . My mother offered him with tea . He asked some more fries.

Operation was successful but remembering pain  my brother used to abuse  random to the Dr. but the Dr smiled and never minded .

He used to visit our home almost everyday of his stay in the town.       I heard the story from parent  I also heard that Netaji fled  from Gomoh station , near Hazaribag . He was seen lastly in Gomoh , India.

Then in Germany under the shelter of Hitler. But he remained mysterious  in the heart of all Bengalese  like a painful lump !.....   Time to time rumor of "Netaji has come"' ignited the Bengalese in new enthusiasm!

Slowly time healed up the rumor in silence under  multiple complexities! 

Calcutta Bookfair -2026  knocked to remind India as well as the world how much love and  adoration the Begalese still bear for Netaji . 

Thanks to Kunal Bose for publishing the book in the broad arena of the Book-Fair!

Hearty  Congratulations on behalf of  ever-alive-all- patriotic hearts!

****************************************************

Sipra's Diary:< Published > "A busy Street At Midnight"

 

A Busy Street At Midnight

 

It was  after a Friday late-night  show

Waiting on the sidewalk to go home.

Waiting more than half an hour 

Increased my worries as the crowd became thinner.

 

A busy street! long black deserted and sleek

So different to look at midnight!

Stretched almost straight and then 

Bent to be lost in invisibility

Made it so feminine and mystic!

 

The hole day so much load and traffic it bears

Instantly reminded me the tired face of my mother!

I felt to embrace her and wish let her  take

Sleep rest of the night, undisturbed by any invader.

 

Feeling became so vivid and vibrate in me 

That street remained no more street

Nor even my mother,

It absorbed intensely with me!

I forgot my impatience or worries,

And what for I was waiting! 

Until my daughter’s voice startled me, Mom!’

Holding the opened door of  ‘cab
Looking back I slipped silently

In the cab that that rolled towards home 

Nor through the road 

But sliding on my supra -sensuous  being!.

Sipra's Diary: (Poem) " INCREDIBLE. SPECIE"

                                "Incredible  Specie "

 Human race campaigned four billion years

 With many more lethal viruses

But did not extinguished like dinosaurs

Or some other specie like mammoth or platypus

He still reigns over the creatures in the universe;

Then why in Covid-19 should we be so anxious?

 

Time leaps over the heaps of pandemic -corpse,

As if, passing over the bough of cherry-blossoms;

Utterly impassive of human traumatic conditions.

 If we can’t get rid of worries and fears of present virus,

Chariot of Time will carry us, defying all obstacles.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Sipra's Diary : Success >. A blackhole.

 

Success!

All of us in this mortal world crave for 'success' , die for achieving success ! We don't think of the flip side of success. How much hard it is to handle success,..to digest success.

First success pushes to leap for more and then again to jump far more and then  to infinite 'more'& more ....,

That is why most  super -duper -celebrities doom in drugs,  in  frustration, even suicide . They feel alone in a lonely icy cold planet.

Starting from Plato, Michael Angelo, Leo Tolstoy , Newton , Madame Curie, Beethoven , Abraham Lincon, Emily Dickinson Steve job, Sylvia Plath, Van Gaug, or Michael Jackson great thinkers or artists  ended life as sad and lone persons.

It is better to have some failure like Robert Bruce and to get to be inspired to experience   success from failure through trial and error from the spider.

Failures leave ways to move forward whereas success has  either dead ends, or enters ultimately to blackhole!

..................................................................................................................

 

Sipra's Diary : "Art Of Arts "..>> [for"CADENCE>" FSPA-]

              “ART Of  ARTS”

Let the poetry be pristine 

And untouched by any  ‘art’  

As itself is the ‘art of arts’, 

Quintessential form  of heart.

Art is another form of artificiality:

 Alias of adulteration.

Let it sustain to express 

The freedom of mind without fear 

Not to be bound with 

Superstition, rules and regulation

Let her remain savage as 

Wild flowers, not to ornate 

With flowery language or 

Burdened with pedantic knowledge

Just like flowers bloom 

To spread fragrance ,

Let her spring the message of

Truth, beauty and goodness.

 

But who is there in near future 

to worry about the “art of poetry?”

In this digital age, as AI is ready 

To step in the literary garden

Who will appeal or protect I

In custody the  “Art” of poetry ?

If the ‘App’ in brain produces 

Poems of love, loss, laughter

From the AI factory, 

To replace the   Eden of literature!

Who cares for creativity?  

What future for ‘imagination’ ?

 

 Yes, graveyard is ready, 

 Coffin is waiting ………

 What epithet will be chosen  

 To inscribe on the tombstone ?........

 *”Step softly,  a dream lies here!”

                         or,

 * ”The best is yet to come !”.

  Of course , that epithet 

  Also has to be borrowed 

  From frozen cemetery or factory! 

***************************************************

 

                      2.