Chandril Bhattacharja X স্রষ্টাই তার সৃষ্টির মুল সমালোচক নয়।
Пікірлер: 9
@nahabinayak5136Ай бұрын
Chandril da tomar comedy er dathe sukkho bisleson just awesome. Chaliye jao guru......🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏
@bonggojbihonggo991Ай бұрын
❤❤ 🇧🇩
@RobiulIslam-nj4fwАй бұрын
Human Life, Most of things isn't 100% Perfect.
@arnabdasphysicsАй бұрын
এর একটি চূড়ান্ত উদাহরণ হলো Maurice Ravel এর Bolero। এই অমর সৃষ্টিটিকে তিনি নিজে কোনোদিনই গুরুত্ব দেননি।
@mintusaren895Ай бұрын
Napit eng brahman Tumio.
@parthabanerjee631Ай бұрын
রাজশেখর বসুর "বটেশ্বরের অবদানা" গল্পটা মনে পড়ছে ?
@subasishchakraborty6781Ай бұрын
চন্দ্রিল ভট্টাচার্য-এর বক্তব্যর শেষে 1 মিনিট পুরো অন্ধকার হয়ে গেল এটা কি ? পুরো বক্তব্য শোনা হল না ।
@monojdas-gupta5918Ай бұрын
This is one contentious topic turned into a twaddle. A writer has every right to publish or abhort one's work as much as the right to choose food, where to take a vacation or whom to leave the estate. This is anybody’s fundamental right,- strictly LEGALLY speaking. A reader would not know what they are missing, until and unless the work is published. Once it is published, the right to know or to judge is handed over to a substantial extent to the reading public present or even posterity. At least ETHICALLY or ARTISTICALLY speaking. Those world classics Chandril mentioned came to be known so (possibly after their death) because they were ultimately published after all, despite the writers themselves. A true artist is a perfectionist. They are never happy with their work. Damned if you publish, damned if you don’t. This is the general attitude of most of the writers with most of their work. But if the reading public has anything to form their opinion by, only after and because of it is published.
@monojdas-gupta5918Ай бұрын
Unless I know for sure if the offsprings of Marquez are acting out of (a)love of their father (b)love of literature or (c) just mundane love of a commercial bonanza,as an avid fan of the author’s writings,I would treat the piece of informaton with utmost indifference and live the rest of my life in profoundly blissful ignorance.