Hi Grand Pa! Biased or missed me..

This is the same place, yes, I am talking about my hometown Kolkata, that was where I saw the first light of this beautiful world and by god’s choice in a Bengali family and that was a very orthodox Hindu family too. My granny and aunts used to perform many pujas but those were early Kolkata days. Life was very different that time. I remember my brother was having a Muslim friend who used to stay near by, on examination days before leaving both used to had there food together in our house. Only difference was that my brother used to have his food inside and his friend sitting outside. What a terrible thing? Again, my Granny, during one of those riots helped them to certain extent to get away from all troubles, so I do not blame my granny for those entire things; she was a prisoner of the system at that time. Finally, 99% of those thirty three million gods and goddess deserted me or I deserted them, when I moved to Jammy (Jamshedpur) but still somehow and somewhere hounded by those feelings and presence of those idols in the temples around me.

My encounter with Christianity started when I moved to Mumbai. A few Christian and Jews families were staying in the same building where I used to stay that time. My next door neighbour was itself a Roman Catholic form Goa and it was the beginning my long association with Christianity. The neighbour’s daughter was little older than me and a teacher by profession, even there was a huge gap between the two cultures of our upbringing, we bonded instantly and our long lasting friendship started from there. I fell for the way they pray and the discipline in the church and started visiting churches. That time onwards, I was visiting the churches regularly. Visited almost all famous churches of Mumbai. St Joseph church of Vikhroli was having a regular visitor in me. The famous St. Michael church, Mahim, visiting on Wednesdays Novena was nostalgia. St. Anthony Church, Sion and a few churches of Bandra. Liked most of those mid-night masses on Christmas, New Year and Easter eve. While returning from Mid-Night masses, it was all masti (enjoyment), always bought a few crackers which known as Patki-Bomb, sold just outside the church itself, to burst those crackers you need not required a matchstick just throw hard it on the ground as you do when you break a coconut and it make a loud noise while hitting the ground. While coming back from mid-night masses around 1.30 nights, always used to burst a few near my Hindu friends doorstep. Do not think I was a child that time; I was already my own bread earner. During that period, I enjoyed my Christmas very much. Even when I was in abroad, I visited churches regularly.

This year I bought a huge Christmas tree, this is third one in my collection. Next time most probably my family will throw me out if one more added to these. I decorated and lighted all three and while going to sleep it is always feel good factor for me when I look back at the tiny twinkles on those trees. That is the spirit of Christmas.

Over the year I also find it strange thinking that the most celebrated bringer of gift kept me out from his list. Where are you St. Nicholas? Getting old? Buy a computer, I will write a program for you and it will be a Christmas gift for you.

!!!Santa! Missed me all the way. Getting old? I am waiting for you, just act fast old man, before it is too late…!!!

Alexander Sir! Kudos for three S. Sucked, Suffocated and Strangled by your telephone cord

After Sir Alexander Graham Bell invented this tool long back, has travelled a long distance and come to the ages where we can finally call it ‘walk and talk’. I was calling a friend from a local post office. Surprised? I am talking about the days when I was in school and most probably studying in eight standard. Experience was bit scary; I was very nervous and almost shaking. That was the first time and all first timers for different things will come out with different stories.

Of Course, I will remember Sir Alexander Graham Bell for other thing, he was the person who introduced Helen Keller to a wonderful human named Anne Mansfield Sullivan (Macy) and I feel that magic was even bigger.

When first time I landed in Mumbai (then Bombay), to get a telephone connection you have to bribe the peoples from top to bottom and if you wanted it very fast then the amount of bribe, hold your breath it was something around twenty five thousand, unless you know somebody over there (its always happens yar). Back home Kolkata it was then a prize possession and even in early nineties the telephone in our house was always dead like a cold body lying in the morgue; only difference was that sometime there was a bit sign of life I mean in the instrument which installed and always lying in our sitting room. Early eighties I was calling a friend in Dubai, on those days an ISD call means minimum three hundred rupees. She was Egyptian, English was alien to her, and even I could speak Arabic very fluently but not writing it. When Last time I talked, her chips were down for something and I was speechless for a moment, before I could gather myself telephone line disconnected. So paying 300 bucks every time was not a mater of joke. Today I am armed with seven email accounts, 3 phones and two permanent address but things were very different that time, neither of us were having even a permanent address. After few years, I never able to trace her back, finally I lost a friend due to telephone or due to bill, no due to my misery, still now I try to find her sons in the social networking site. At the stroke of this millennium, one of my client from abroad refused to work with me unless and until I change my internet connection from Dial-Up to lease line. When I gone through the charges of lease line, gosh, I had a very strong heart which survived and strong chair too, it hold me before falling down.

A pager was worse and even more terrifying; no soon, you got a message you have to rush to the nearest booth to make a phone call. Imagine somebody having a bit nice time, at middle of the night in a quite place (every one have the right to do so) and got a pager from wifey.

Thanks to the Internet, the Babu’s at the Telecom office realized that the office and a new connection was not their paternal property.

Finally mobile arrived in India, in beginning it was just a status symbol and occasionally used for an outgoing calls and mostly to those three free numbers which provided by company. Most of the time incoming call remains unanswered.

After Reliance started their operation, a total freedom to incoming calls, and outgoing charges too reduced every day, handset was very reachable. I was happy with my landline but one day I also got mobile with a cell phone and not with Mobil.

After accruing the gadget of course with a lifeline (SIM), I also joined the league of ‘walk and talk’. I love to interact with myself a lot, with a mobile in my hand and while walking down the lane alone can pretend to talk and that too with myself, crazy thing to do, no because –

!!!In this world there is only one who will listen to you constantly and enjoy your smile unconditionally, that is you.!!!

Black or white?

In Kolkata, we were having a helping hand, she worked over 20 years then one day she left because of old age. A few days back while going to work I saw her in the same area, she came all the way and asked ‘Didi Kemon Acho’ (Didi how are you?) and told me how she was severely affected by Aila (Cyclone). Her house is destroyed so once again she have to start all over at this age, my heart felt for her but only this what I can do for her. After she left it was very difficult for us to fill the void, we decided to go wise and tried what I always liked Self-Help-Done. It was not easy as all our family member out by early morning, other work is OK with us but wiping floors was a big problem, around 1200Sq.Ft is not mater of joke, when I was going through all my innovative idea to find a easy way to wipe the floors we finally found a helping hand and very good one. Lady always flashing a beautiful smile and like to chatter a bit, I feel both qualities are belongs to peoples with genuine approach. Anyway it is not about the lady what I am writing today, it is all about what she said last Sunday.

Sunday is the day when I look after the garden and cleaning outside. This how I like to spent my most desirable Sunday mornings. I often bumped to my student while doing the odd jobs, they amused a lot as in Kolkata the attitude more like Have-it-Done then Self-Help-Done, so they even enquire ‘Mam what are you doing?’ I replied ‘I am not earning enough from you, so looking for some part-time and you can call this is an advertisement’. Last Sunday was not a exception and while working backyard, she was washing clothes just told me ‘see Babu’s white socks, how dirty it is, why school never allows black socks, it is not get as dirty as white one.’ Babu means my grand nephew.

Her words stuck to my mind like glue and I was thinking since, this is a new problem with me thinking a lot for nothing and the product of this new virus are these 27 rubbish in my blog and 5 stories of different sizes. Since big debate was going around my mind - is black never getting that dirty? Is it spotless? I always preferred white but spotless and that is not possible so I cannot use it. Still hardly, use black.

Look at those so called developed countries and those fair (white) faces with unfair attitude, once they wanted to rule the world and even started a cold war to prove their superiority and experimented with other weaker countries and even on space and moon (?), and see what mess they made around. These white faces are not spotless, having blood all over their bods. One of the two fallen like nine pins behind the iron curtain and other still is going through the sinister plots. According to their dictionary, we Asian neither black nor white we are either brown or yellow.

I am very big fan of few of those dark skins. Dear MJ, in life and death, I will be always a very big fan of you but your life would have been good without all those cosmetic surgery. You looked awesome in Thriller album. The Flo-Jo and her breath taking appearance in Seoul Olympic, the ‘Fastest women in the earth’ may died eleven years back still living in me. Then there is Jackie Joyner. I will prefer to watch Whoopi Goldberg over ten Sharon Stone or a Denzel Washington to Jude law. Once I was very much awestruck by Marion Jones and Tiger Wood, but all of certain there are so many spot around. What Tiger was doing, after having his soul mate from Sweden (a blonde too), I think he was in blonde exploration expedition.

!!!Its black or white, both can be spotless, you need bit self restrain and courage to overcome the big ‘T’ (Temptation)!!!

Upward bound? Beware of a freefall

I will call myself a big liar if I say I do not want money. Everybody wants money; money gives us huge confidence in our life and in the society where we move around. Money have such power, you can hide all your weakness under the thick layer of it. You can see an evil prayed like a saint, even not at the back at least in front. In Hindi we say “Lakshmi bahut chanchal hai” (Goddess of wealth is very restless). Therefore, enjoying sunshine is good but a thunderstorm cannot be very far away. What happening in Dubai, you call it thunderstorm or sandstorm, but now there is no sand in Dubai, if they need some they have to buy it from somewhere else.

I never enjoyed any of my stint in abroad; I was there because I have to. When I was in Dubai, it was just a virgin gulf state with sands and loads of sands. During my years, we had a two-door Honda car often skipped from the narrow road along the desert and we have to push it back to the road again, it was fun. A tax-free income and tension free life. We even took a ferry from Deira to Par Dubai and other two ways was a Bridge and a tunnel just below Arabian Sea. Scenario was bit confusing, what to do with all the money it earning from oil. That time Sheikh Rashid was the ruler and not his famous sons, so old man kept all his money under his safe hands. But that kind of money from nowhere means lots of confusion, even you hired economist those are best in the business, still it is very tough job.

Looking at Dubai, a small town (may be it was a tiny village before oil exploration), now most glamorous state out of seven Emirates and why Emirates you can count the world too. At that time, when I left it all started. Battery of high profile engineers from other countries started exploring the state, even soil for plantation started coming from aboard.

All things started such way that whole world turned around to look at this tiny state, those artificial beauty and mind-blowing structure. I even heard that there was a plan to build a floating city, existence of balloon is always short. Oil wells were drying down and only hope was for all gulf state to invest such a way so they remain rich. All look well, like wonderful dream, when tourist visited every March for Dubai festival and even lucky one got a Rolls Royce through lucky draw, if you were that lucky, today you may have thirty Rolls in your garage.

When half of the worlds population living below poverty line and really feel sick when looking at those silver cars, golden bathrooms and diamond studded other worthless accessories.

Today, Palm Island sinking without Tsunami and Burj looking down to find its ground than sky. Hope it will survive; otherwise many of our Bollywood stars, starlets and those gun-totting fellas will be orphan, as it was their second home.

Oil wells drying up in gulf may be good sign for world peace, because fund for some deadly activities also dry down. Worried? Trams, metro rails, monorails and Mumbai chi local still can pull you out from all these problems, why not buy a cycle and start learning all over.

!!!Therefore, money, sweet money, is sweeter if it is hard earn and spend well, or you should have a good digestive system, no matter who you are. !!!

Khel Khel mein

Sports and Sporting events was always an integral part of my life. I am a big sport buff in core. Our time it was not that easy to pursuit sports as ones profession and specially for a girl. When I was very young, I played everything with my brothers and neighbours. Everything and the list such as gilli danda, marble, kabbadi and cricket. Big changes came when I move to Jammy (Jamshedpur). The school I used to study was only for the children of Tata employees. That time there were not many schools around Jammy, boys and girls schools were always sharing the boundary. There were three types of school where we have to study – Primary schools only up to 4th standard, then middle school 5 to 7 standard and then finally move to high school. Cycling was started here. When I join my high school apart from other games I was introduced to a very unusual sport, ‘baseball’. It was very new to me because, we hardly used to get any news paper those days, daily dose of bit of news provided to us by a very old radio, which often not ready to response our request.

We had a very unusual teacher, who was incharge of our baseball team as well as mathematics. She pampered me a lot, not because I was very good in sport but because of my maths, it was my favourite subject and always done well.

I can not remember how I selected to my baseball team and for your information the game we played having all, only missing things were protected gears. I used stand behind and often pitched. One my classmate was best hitter I have seen those days and often she used to hit the ball with such a power that just unbelievable. After leaving school, I never got an ideal sport in college, so played bit of badminton, apart from that I missed other sporting activities. At that moment my association with Cricket started, I mean following not playing. During that period, I got few chances to visit Keenan Stadium of Jammy to watch three days matches between visiting international team and Bihar Ranji team.

When I was aboard, played bit tennis and badminton but in Mumbai, I never got a chance to try out my hand on any sport.

Not playing means losing interest, no never. My best pastime is watching all kind of sports; list will be very long, still naming a few– cricket, football, tennis, motor sports, track and field etc.

My favourite sports person – the unbelievable Late Flo-Jo and sis-in-law Jackie Joyner, Carl Lewis, Steffi Graf, Andre Agassi, Michael Schumacher, Lance Armstrong, Valentino Rossi, Ryan Gigs, Rooney, Kaka, Phelps, Michael Jordan and of course Sachin Tendulkar. The only sports which failed to invoke any interest in me is Boxing, so I do not know above list should have the name of Mohammed Ali or not, but it is true that he is an exceptional sports person. Another unusual person from sporting arena whom I really admire is Sir Alex Ferguson.

!!!Even if you do not play, Be Sports! If you play, please leave the dirty one.!!!

Count 1 to 9, your password to enter this country

Visiting aboard? Everybody wants to head towards USA, Europe or may be nation surrounded by pacific sea and Indian Ocean. However, I visited this country and fascinated by everything. I am talking about land of Pharos, Egypt. When I went there, I was young, so I too failed to get the real charm and glamour that generally provided by USA and Europe. Today memories of that visit are just standout from all other.

I was invited by one of my Egyptian colleague, but decision was very difficult one, no, it was not monetary problem. While staying aboard we used to look forward to our yearly leave and just want to come home. Missing home and India for two years on the trot was very tough one. However, thank god finally, I traded my visit to India with that one.

Two things generally come to our mind while visiting Egypt, pyramid and Nile, but many other surprising things were stored for me. Mainly staying in Alexandria, the most beautiful beach I ever seen in my life.

After landing in Cairo airport, we directly headed to her hometown Alexandria. Cairo to Alexandria, which around three and half hours drive, things that I have noticed all the way, was truckloads of cottons and cottons (Egyptian cottons). She was having a huge three-storied house, mainly occupied by her old parents. My friend was having three sisters and a brother, apart from her third sister all other siblings were away. The lifestyle and foods were quite different from ours. Adapting to a new lifestyle is never a big issue for me. One dish, which I liked, was ‘Malokhaia’, a leafy vegetable cooked in chicken soup. Their house was hardly five minutes away from Mediterranean Sea, so almost whole days we used to stay by the beach. The beauty of Mediterranean Sea was unbelievable.

After a week or so, finally we decided to visit Cairo for a day. My friend was driving her father car, her father was very possessive about it, but somehow she managed to get it for our day out. After reaching Cairo, no need to mention, where we headed for. Almost five to six hours we explored pyramid and Sphinx of Giza and then Cairo tower which situated by Niles. Standing on the top of Cairo Tower, one can view almost whole Cairo city, we also visited the Cairo Zoo. When we were just thinking of returning back, a small accident occurred and it was not possible for her to bring back the car with such condition to Alexandria. Therefore, she took it to a known garage. After grabbing our belonging, we walked a few lane of Cairo to reach our temporary destination that was her cousin’s house. We stay over there for the night and next morning we returned to Alexandria.

After a week or so, again back to Cairo, this time around no adventure only to fly out.

It was an unbelievable journey with wonderful memories. However, frankly speaking I still prefer to type the boundless ‘0’, to unlock the password of that wonderful country where I born and brought up, want to remain there till end, your guess is as good as mine, yes that is my country - India.

!!!For me home is where the heart is there.!!!

Two eyes (I.I) and the T form my hear(T)

Those Mumbaikars who knows me, will wonder why I never wrote about this place. Frankly speaking, I do not have enough word to express about this place. What to write? About the world famous and prestigious campus, those visiting V.I.Ps, about those fest (Mood-Indigo), the lakeside view, pollution less morning walks or those peaceful cycles rides. No! None of these, let me write about the peoples, those were really one of kind.

This place also thought me that lack of comfort you having under your roof look like a peanuts, if your neighbours and your surrounding are just too good. The days in I.I.T considered being the best and the golden times of my life. Almost eight years, leaving two of those, when I went to abroad. With bitter, sweet, sour and salt all together, days were just standout from others. My neighbours, OH God! They were just few gems with golden heart. While staying I.I.T, I never locked my door even when I was away. When I left this place, only time I could not hide my true emotion in public, I cried and cried inconsolably.

I am sorry I cannot mention all of them, pick up only a few. Mainly my three neighbours, two of them from north India (U.P. and Himachal) and one from South India (Kerala) and me all together we were very much like a huge family.

My South Indian neighbour was having a daughter, a son. Uncle was an employee of Cromptron Greaves, and aunty was a homemaker. Daughter was a very good friend of mine and like a sister to me. Most of the time I used to have my food with them and whenever any guest visited their house, aunty would always carry a cup of tea from her house until my and offered me with a smile – ‘Chai piyo’. Sadly, I drifted with them; do not know whose fault it was, mainly their son’s involvement with peoples with lots of illegal activity. Still I tried to call then on occasion and tried to wish them, my side it is always genuine.

My North Indian Neighbour also having two kids both were very young when I first met them, today both are grown up and doing well in their respective areas. Bhaiyaji was a lecturer (Maths) and my friend was a homemaker. Bhaiyaji was very quite person and wife was just opposite. She was a very good cook and the tea she used to make was something special. Her home was the place, where we gathered for a big adda. Until now whenever I visit Mumbai, at least for a couple of days I stay at her place.

My other neighbour from Himachal, Uncle was an employee of Proctor & Gamble and aunty was a homemaker. She was having four sons and a daughter. All five siblings used to love me very much. Aunty was very soft spoken, always very concerned about me, If I failed to get up in time, she always knocked my door to know if I was OK or not, today she is no more, so memory of those days are really pained me a lot. Her elder son and daughter-in-law both were my friend too. When I move to I.I.T., he was married with two very young kids. He was working with Otis Elevator. He used to love his wife very much; we often tease both the couple and specially him as ‘Jaru ka Gulam’.

While returning from his work, most of the time he used to peek in and if he found me, only thing he would say– ‘chalo chai pilao’. My answer to his request was always same – come on, go home and have your tea, I do not make tea here and do not even have milk. He will quietly find my purse took out money and immediately find some milk from near by shop and helped himself by preparing his own cup of tea. My only reaction was ‘This is robbery’.

Once during Holi, my Keralite friend and myself told him to arrange a glass of Bhang for both, as we never tasted it. He promptly got two glasses for us. The taste was fabulous and after having it, nearly two hours myself and my Keralite friend sitting face-to-face and telling each other – “Hey, why are you laughing?” thinking all the way that we were just getting bit high. Finally in the evening KS disclosed that it was a mere Sarbat made out of Milk and Dry fruits, there was no Bhang in it, and after having a good laugh, said –“Mein pagal ho gaya jo tum logon ko Bhang pilaunga” (Serve you friend something like that stuff? Am I crazy? ). Our reaction at that time, just forget it.

During that time for one year, I left for aboard (2nd time), when back found him very depressed. May be something related to money, real thing he never disclosed to me and also very busy with my work. One night when I came back from my office, found something amiss in the area and the one of the most shocking news of my life was that, my dear friend KS was no more, it was suicide. I never saw him after that, because the KS, I have known, who dared to touch my purse for few bucks to buy milk for a cup of tea was the one I wanted to remember forever rather than a lifeless body which found hanging from ceiling fan. If I go to Mumbai, I still try to meet his wife. Children’s are grown up now. Dear KS, wherever you are in life and death, you will be always remembered, may be not last but at least by your friend BeeeBeees.

!!!My IITian neighbours, invaluable gems, do not dare to put a price on them.!!!

Irritation? Preserve it, enjoy later.

Irritation is such a thing; bring out all ugly emotion hidden in you, anger, despair and even an evil hiding inside you. However, believe me or not once irritated but today having a hearty smile while writing.

Life in Dombivili was hard, but it was worth. I was one of the luckiest person who used to work five days a week, even envied by my bosses. Somebody told me – just lazing around weekends, why do not come and work as visiting faculty in our place, we need someone like you. Money is such a thing you can not ignore. So I decided to join them for Saturday and Sunday afternoon. My friend wanted to kill me as I was totally unavailable for any outing. So leaving my home and little comfort, I used to walk down the lane and by lane of Dombi for eight to ten minutes to reach my weekend working place.

This fellow, middle aged, foreign return, wanted to go back soon, and wanted to get a few things about computer before he can go back. First started with DOS, after teaching few things, I started with creating folder, while teaching him CD (Change Directory) command, after lots of explanation found him still sulking I tried to give an example, something like this- “See this building is like a hard disk and every flat is like a folder, your flat is your personal folder, so when go in you have to unlock the door same way you give CD and folder name to go in and when come out only CD.., so on…”. After a minute or so, he said to me – Oh! CD command is like a security guard of the building.” I stood there for a minute, speechless and then all I wanted to tell him –“yes Mr.., the security guard is coming, armed with an AK47 and going to clean up the building”, but finally I took a deep breath and started all over. A building for an example? In my whole life until today, I never ever committed that mistake.

This lady was having everything you asked for, good look, a green card (both husband and wife), having a business in Mumbai, a home in prime location and two beautiful kids, a daughter and a son. Her family background was something that really impressed me – Father Sindhi, citizen of Hong Kong, mother Maharashtrian and she married to a Gujarati fellow.

Even I was years younger than her she used to respect me a lot, but I was having bit negative feeling towards her for other thing(very unwise BeeeBeees), one of my junior colleague, very dear to me was working in her office in the mornings and she was very upset with her beheviour.

Always greeting me with a big smile- “Hi Ms. B.”, incidentally both of my initial starts with ‘B’.
One day she asked me to help her to buy a computer. Computers are not that cheaper in those days and it was considered to be a prize possession for any house hold, also there were not many option or neither too many computer engineers around. Today armed with a single screwdriver you are a computer engineer. I gave her an address and she finally got a system and requested me to check it. That time we yet to have a Windows OS. While checking I found a few viruses in the system. That time there were not many virus around, may be there were a few infected minds. I called up the company that supplied the computer and told them about it, when I looked back, the lady looked horrified and told me – “Virus? What about my children?” I just wanted to tell her – “Yes! Move fast get your green card and rush to USA and get all vaccines available there.” Instead of that I made matter worse for her (a devil in me) and told her –“don’t worry; these are not physical virus, only logical virus”. Instead of cooling down, she looked more concerned “What do you mean by logical viruses?” I felt pity and finally decided to close the chapter and said, “Your children will be fine, but if one them start sneezing tomorrow then do not blame the computer, computer can snooze but never sneeze.”

I was young and may be impatient, so when often irritated by someone, reacted differently, but today some of those moments remind me-

!!! Not all irritations are that itchy !!!

Tried and tested! Blessed? result is unknown

When we give a thing to someone, we can not forget, mostly because we expect something in return, very mean of us, but it is reality. Relishing the joy of unconditional giving is a rare thing in our life.

Few times in my life I had the feeling that someone came out from the blue to ask for a little thing which was worthless to me and still left an aura that can not be forgotten. Among many a few instances which still is sinking in me.

I go back to my old home in Kolkata and with my mother, a woman with lots of human qualities; sadly I never inherit a drop of it. I was then seven or odd years old. Tuesday was the day when this old man was our guest from nowhere. I never saw him going to any other neighbours house. My mother used to feed him like a guest, even sometime she prepared an extra item for him. This routine gone through for may be seven or eight months. My mother also promised him a new pair clothes during that year Durga Puja. One day my cousin sister (daughter of my father elder sister) came form Jamshedpur. During this time on that particular Tuesday, while going to bath mother asked my Didi to serve the fellow if he come in between, and it’s happened, best of her understanding she served the leftover food from previous night. My mother’s precious guest left without touching the food and he never came back. Many years after that, I often found my mother regretting for the mistake she committed.

Mid eighties I was accompanying a friend for an interview. I rather say that the three generation of that family she belongs were my friends, specially her aunty who was a very dear friend to me through my thick and thins and a few months back I lost her for forever. All three sisters too were dear friends to me and like sisters to me too. The office was somewhere in Flora Fountain. When we are waiting in the reception may be six or eight people together, a Parsi old lady came in through the glass door, clad in half sleeve printed shirt and a matching printed pajama, directly came up to me and demanded, you can say just ordered me – “Give me five rupees, I am hungry”, in mid eighties five rupees worth a bit, but I felt like commanded, tried to find a five rupees note and handed over to her. Without uttering a word she left the way she came in. Strange thing was that you will never find a Parsi asking like that, because Parsis are well placed and taken care off.

Mid nineties I was going to meet someone, in Mumbai if I was alone, I never walked, either ran or something between walk and run. An old lady just coming from opposite side and opposite footpath, frail, very fair, wearing a Maharashtrian style sari (nine yards), toothless, smiled at me, a beauty, to give a beautiful smile you have to have something inside rather than a beautiful face with set of 32 fit for advertising, at the same time you just have the heart to feel it. I thought she was known to me so I smiled back. With great difficulties she crossed the road and came to me. Finally she showed me a few stuff and asked me to buy, those things were just worthless to me still I gave her a smile and said ‘well I will take it’. After I paid her she put her frail hand on my head and softly said ‘bala’ (child) and she moved away. A strange feeling pass through whole body and her small blessing made me speechless. I stood there and watched her still I can. An unconditional blessing is such a thing; bring out a small child in you.

My mother remembered her guest all her life because she made a mistake and I remember them may be thinking for some returns.

!!!Yes! Remember them all for the little thing I gave them, that was worthless to me and in return waiting for their blessing, which invaluable, a very mean minded BeeeBeees.!!!

Faint Memories of Master Moshai

Old days a male teacher in Bengal always called Master Moshai, Moshai means Mahashai to show respect. I am writing about the teacher who is now faceless, only a dhoti-kurta clad frail and tall frame what I can remember. Often my elder brother asks me how I can remember all those old stuff, frankly speaking - I do not know. When this incident took place, I was may be five or six years old, so hardly can remember the characters related to my topic. The Sir, used to come to teach us, me and my two elder brothers, one almost 10 years older than me and other 5 years as my father was away and it was difficult for women in the house to handle with our studies. At that time, Sir may be at his late forties. My granny, a very wise and intelligent woman, respected by many as well as by Sir too. Therefore, after teaching he often used to spend a quality time gossiping about politics and other thing.

Sir was a headmaster of a local primary school where we were putting at that time. After death of his first wife, he married again. He was having a daughter from previous wife and may be two more (not sure) from second. The daughter was same age of my elder brother and often used to come to our house for some books or notes. My mother and grandmother both loved her very much. Every one in the locality also aware, that the stepmother tortured the girl regularly. Sir, himself was very soft and respected person, and may be a helpless father. At that, time teachers never paid a handsome salary and to keep his household running was a big trouble for him.

On that fateful night, around eight Sir’s wife came to our house, looking for the daughter. My grandmother and mother was surprised and said promptly that the girl hardly move out from her house at daytime, how can she stepped out at night.

Next morning her body was found in a near by pond. My grand mother never allowed us to move out and rush to the spot.

After lots of legal proceeding, finally some help from local people Master Moshai left his job and move out from the locality. We missed him very much.

After few years while living in Jammy (Jamshedpur), I was finally able to understand the story that was going around the locality at that time. The little story which was household hot topic, was all about that fateful night -

When that night Master Moshai returned home, the girl was having her meal and as usual, the wife started complaining about all sort of thing, which the poor girl may be never have done, and in a fit of rage, tired Master Moshai kicked the girl, she died instantly.

Hope above story was just a story but if it is true then I wonder how a woman can act such a beastly manner towards another. The faceless and nameless (I can still get it from my brother but let it be) Master Moshai whom we respected, do not know how he able to carried with his life after that. My heart still bleeds for the girl and Master Moshai too.

!!!Are all good people goes through more grinds and suffering? I am not in a position to justify this theory, because I am an ordinary and average (may be horrible at a time?) person.!!!

My four and half phases of Diwali

Its Diwali time and inarguably this one is the most celebrated festival in India, even Windsor Palace, White House, Wall Street, NASDAQ and NYSE cannot ignore it. Once again, just want to throw away all theory about Ram coming back to Ayodhya etc. During my life, Diwali celebrated in 4½ phases.

First with Kolkata, we used to make firecrackers; since early days, I liked all those activities, where creativity is matter. Mixing sulfur with paste of charcoal from burn wooden pieces and getting some products called firecrackers. While burning those firecrackers we used to keep laughing, do not know on what, on our failure or firecrackers. Then Lamps (Diyas) were everywhere in our big house.

Another beautiful creative thing came up on my Diwali menu while living in Jammy (Jamshedpur). We used make a small mud house on our courtyard, It was known as ‘Budi’s House’ (House of an old lady). Tried hard to give all my creative ideas to it. It was always two storied with a circular staircase and a beautiful balcony. On those days, colours were not available, so it was only white wash. On Diwali day, we decorated it with lamps. Dad used to buy firecrackers from market so gone the days of experiments and poor firecrackers were having huge sigh of relief.

In Mumbai, all things were bang bang and somewhere here slowly the lamps replaced by the candles, but a ‘STAR’ or Kandeel (Light arrangement mostly looks like star) was compulsory thing for every Hindu household. For middle class families Diwali means lots hard work, varieties of home made sweet can be seen like Rawa laddoo, Basan Laddoo and Karenja. Last one was bit troublesome, while preparing it you will feel like a bank’s recurring deposit keep going and going, only relief that you will find lots helping hand from your neighbourhood. Corporate houses and Big Bosses send big thing, least bothered, better forget it. You get a plateful from your each neighbour and mostly homemade cookie. Celebration goes up to or almost fifteen days until Tulsi’s Wedding (I have no idea if Tulsi got married somewhere to someone). Bursting of Firecrackers keep you awake through all nights. From Ganesh Puja onwards and until New Year you will always get a feeling of festivity in Mumbai.

The ½ phase of Diwali was in Singapore, where I was staying with a wonderful family. Strangely, there were no diyas or firecrackers but a huge Diwali party used to thrown to the family members, relatives and friends and more strangely, that lots of liquor bottle uncorked on that day, but only relief for me, that the women from that house never touched those alcohol.

After coming back to Kolkata, this time around, things are changed and another creative thing was waiting for me, lighting arrangement. We are having a big house with garden around and decorating it with tiny colourful electric lights is not mater of joke, but I have always a competition with in. At last happiness come at the evening when all lights are ON, looking at all those tiny colourful twinkles give me immense joy. This only a day when I do not forget to interact with my neighbour, and together we burst a few firecrackers.

While celebrating sometime a strange feeling (guilt) creep through my mind – somewhere in the dark a lonely soul may be watching me when I am celebrating Diwali under thousand lights. It is a fact even bitter one, that country like us having numerous people who even cannot spend a few paisas to buy a Diya.

!! Life is such, joy makes us selfish and in sorrow, we always try find a shoulder to cry!!

Flower, fragrance, precious stone, a beautiful face all in one

While walking down the memory lane, she was there, almost end of the tunnel, still as bright as she was years before. It is impossible for me to ignore herpresence in my early days. She was hardly five feet and Sarees were always too long for her, she used to put a few rounds around her waist to adjust its length. She was having a beautiful tanned face.

When I met her, I was 9 or may be 10 years and she was around 30 or something. She was having a beautiful daughter of my age. She was most probably from Sambalpur (Orissa) and used to call me Didi. Yes! I am talking about our helping hand in Jammy (Jamshedpur).

Like all woman from her community, her husband also was good for nothing, doing odd jobs and mostly doing nothing. She was the one who have to look after the family. She was having a very special bond with my mother and a cat and mouse relationship with me. While wiping the floor, even my shadow fell on the wiped floor, she was already shouting – ‘Ma Dekho Didi ke, ana aar Jana’ (Ma look what Didi is doing, going and coming). On those days, I was naughtiest and at its best (a little secret - nothing changed). I would have given her a cold stare, then ran through already wiped floor, not once may be twice, thrice or more and then quickly tried to find a place to hide. While coming to my house, she would sneak peek through my neighbour garden (not too may in Jamshedpur like Kolkata) and always have few guavas for me.

Subarnarekha and Kharkai are the two rivers, which run through Jammy. The nearest one was Kharkai, which remind me Tagore's poem “Amader Choto Nadi” (Our Small River). You will find hardly any water in summer and in monsoon, it would have been a very fiery one. During our summer vacation, visiting other side was an expedition for us. We were always visiting the small village to chat with the tribes and get few fruits. Now it is very famous Adityapur with all big Industries around. We also often crossed the river for a picnic, and no need to mention that she was always there as an active member and helping us for everything.

One fine day, I cannot remember exactly what happened, but my father got angry with her and sacked her. We were very upset but I was too young to bother by theincident. My father used to work for Tata Iron and Steel Company (TISCO). The morning after the above incident, my father left for his duties as usual, we and as well as my mother got a shock to see her as usual. There were lots of conversation followed between her and mother and finally she broke down-
- Ma, how you will do the work alone? You will die.

She was worried about my mother and just do not wanted my mother to do the work alone. My mother tried hard to convince her but without any impact. So she used to finish her work as usual and then have breakfast with us, I have no idea about other transactions, which may took place between those two wonderful women. After a month or so, she came back, of-course she was always there but this time legally.

After my mother death, somewhere down the line, she left the job, but always there and enquired about us and then I left Jammy. Many years after that finally when I gone back to Jammy, more than 20 years or so on. I asked my brother about her. He told me that her daughter got married to a well-to-do family and she was staying with her. I was very pleased and happy for her.

Jammy is a small town and it was very easy for me to meet her, but I never tried to meet her, no not because she was just a helping hand to us, she was very precious to me, the main cause was, I wanted to keep her there only, where I left her years ago. Another 10 years past, I hope she is OK.

!!! A rare flower with lots of fragrance and an invaluable precious stone all she was; yes, her name was PHUL-MANI!!!

Tree of life, shorter and longer all treasure

Back from Orissa, the Bay of Bengal beach of Puri is good but overcrowded; spending quality time on the beach was not very pleasant one. Visiting Dhauli, Sun Temple at Konark and other places not for first time, so overall this trip was very ordinary one.

Back to my joint on 1st October. On 2nd it was Mahatma Gandhi’s birthday and a national holiday. Over the year my perception about M.G. is changed. I belongs to a family who bear the burnt of partition. Even it is not me who directly gone through the heat of partition, but memories from my Granny’s narration is still haunted. Today I can understand that, it is very unfair to blame M.G. alone for the partition. Anyhow, this is a very sensitive and political issue and I am a very apolitical person.

Apart from Deepavali all other Hindu festival is almost over for the year. On Saturday it was “Kojagari Purnima”. In Bengal, almost all houses perform “Lakshmi or Laxmi Puja” (Goddess of Wealth) on this day. Do not know how the balance sheet of those houses looks like after this day.
When I was in Mumbai, first time I came to know that ‘Kojagari Purnima’ means (Jagoran) no sleep on that night. Only once in early 80’s I was involved in such activity. At that time, I was having a Maharashtrian couple as my neighbour. They were very jovial, friendly and childless. They always used to make use of their spare time for something than other. I used to call them Bhau (big brother) and Kali Baini (sister-in-law [Dark]). I do not understand why to call somebody by her or his appearance or skin colour, but everybody used to call her by that name and she never felt bad. On that particular ‘Kojagari Purnima’ , we went to Baini’s parents house in Ghatkopar. They were a very big family all together. Song, Dance and lots of gossip all what was on the menu along with some Maharashtrian delicacies. After few years, we moved away, I left for aboard and they went to stay in BPT Colony Wadala. Almost after 18 years when Bhau’s retired, they decided to leave Mumbai permanently for their native place, they took lots of pain to locate me before leaving Mumbai, one fine afternoon they came calling to my office. While leaving they told me ‘Kadi tari ae amchi kare’ (Visit us, sometime). I just smiled and said ‘why not?’ Nevertheless, I knew all the way that it was just a white lie, which I uttered.

It is sometime very difficult to keep count of all peoples and their impact on ones life but still there were umpteen numbers of people who crossed my path or just peeped for once, I tried to remember them all; life would have been meaningless without their presence. Out of sight is out of mind is not my way of life.

Life like a huge tree, relations are short timer and long lasting, like leaves, flowers, fruits and branches, some come and go, some stay forever until the existence of tree. All these memories are treasure even it is painful.

!!!The theory about plants having life, if it is true, I wonder if it too remembers all leaves, flowers, fruits and branches, which no longer belongs to it.!!!

Good, Bad or Evil, who are the judges?

Dussera or Bijoya Dasami means the end of Durga Puja. Arguably, the most important of all religious festivals for Hindus is Dussera (or Durga Puja).

In Mumbai, good wishes expressed on Dussera day to each other with exchanging a few leaf of Kanchan flower (Sona). When I was in Mumbai and often used to visit Kolkata on Dussera, I used to joke to my folks about how in Mumbai we get lots of Sona (Gold) as Dussera gift.

Dussera celebrated all over India and in my home town Kolkata it is almost week long celebration. Two customs here, which make me sick One, is touching feet of every elderly person, this is a very bad way showing your respect, if I want to show respect to somebody it should be my attitude towards the person and not just touching feet. I get very angry with anybody who tries doing it with me; I consider myself a very simple human being. Other thing is plate-full sweet, while writing this piece even thinking of sweet giving me a nausea feeling. Things change with the age, as a child always used to look forward to this week.

However, when I am writing about Dussera, this little theory is not acceptable by me-
Dussera celebrates the victory of good over evil. Who is good, Bad or Evil? Evil Ravana? Why?

For your kind information, Ravana was a great scholar, a capable ruler, Veena Player and a devoted follower of Shiva, and he has his apologists and staunch devotees within the Hindu traditions.

If I am hurting the Hindu sentiment, I am sorry. I am a rebel and I will be always one. For one mistake our so-called society burning Ravana every year with so much fanfare. Why not Yudhisthir? A desperate gambler put Draupadi at stake in a game of dice. Male chauvinism put a helpless woman at the mercy of crooks like Kauravas.

After all, what Ram did for Sita? Sita was forced into exile in an unknown forest; she was not only alone this time but also pregnant.
Why not all those who are exploiting woman for their own lust. The list will get bigger with some of those politicians, bigwigs and many others. Some time back one of student was narrating me a little story about the girls in orphanage and how those poor girls are used.

For me Ravana is an unsung hero. Of course, Ravana made mistakes, kidnapping Sita for nothing and just forgot his duties. I am going to finish from a piece of Kabir Doha

Tomorrows work do today, today's work now / if the moment is lost, the work be done how
Kaal Kare So Aaj Kar, Aaj Kare So aab / Pal Mein Pralaya Hoyegi, Bahuri Karoge Kab

!!!My mantra is - Why to keep today's work for now, should have finished by yesterday. !!!

Two Durgas! Inspired me, both awesome

[Ya Devi Sarva Bhooteshu Matri Roopena Samsthita
Namastasyai Namastasyai Namastasyai Namo Namaha]

(Devi, who art manifest in all existence as
mother I worship thee, over and over and over again.)

First, I am talking about Goddess Durga

The real festive season in India kicked up with Ganesh Puja and then you will find one after another. Today is Maha-Sasthi, is the first day of Durga Puja. Sitting at my home in Kolkata I can hear all those Drum Beats from puja pandals. Coming five days Kolkata will never sleep. Now these days, festivals make not much different to me, it is like any other day, my only point is that I will get a well-deserved 10 days break and try to escape from all these hustle and bustle and move far from Kolkata. This year also no exception, tomorrow I am leaving. Still I cannot just disassociate myself from this Durga Puja. It played a significant role since my early days.

In my early days, Durga Puja meant a lot. It was total freedom, no school and long break from study, new cloths, pocket money (rare on those days), new shoes, painful shoe bite and blisters. All those days Rain God used to very kind and affectionate to autumn, we used to get heavy downfall during pujas. Those days Durga Puja was the mirror of real Bengal and Bengali culture. Today it is just a business run by money power and show.

In Jammy (Jamshedpur), it was always home away from home for me, Durga Pujas were bit quite affair compare to Kolkata, still we enjoyed a lot. There were only two or three clubs where Durga Puja used to celebrated, the sleepy town used to get a shot and we enjoyed every bit of it.

In Mumbai (Bombay), things were different and during these periods, I lost Durga Puja somewhere and memory of Durga Puja, which lived in me, died young. Last 9 years since I came back here I could not able to give a new lease of life to it. I am only talking about dying memory of Durga Puja and not Durga.

Sab Charitra Kalponik (All Characters are Imaginary)

I am not a hyper Sensitive person, but this character is very much in me all the way and still kicking.

The Other Durga -

The other Durga, she died young, very young and still my heart bleeds for her on a rainy day. I am talking about Bibhutibhushan Bandopadhyay's famous book ‘Pather Panchali’, made more famous by Great Satyajit Roy. However, those read the book would find the book is standing tall; I first read it when I was eight. Thinking my kiddy days and all those crazy summer afternoon in Kolkata, I find a lot similarity between Durga and me. Nevertheless, Durga died, very young and I survived because on a rainy day I never sneaked to my neighbour garden to collect few raw mangos and when I was sick, my father able to afford proper medicine for me. I got all Durga longed for – toys, foods, schooling and those sweets, for which Durga have to walk along with sweet seller with bit hope. After so many years I am still angry with writer, why and why he have to kill Durga, and so young. While writing this I am still emotional, I shut my eyes and get a feeling of few drops tears just knocking my closed eyes. Is I am crying for Durga or myself?

!!!!No! How Durga can die? Both will live with me in my heart and with those who are as crazy as BeeeBeees.!!!

Romancing the Season [in monsoon mai aur badal dono hi crazy hawa ke sang Pagal]

[Ruth Aa Gayi Re Ruth Chhaa Gayi Re,
Peeli Peeli Sarson Phoole Peele Peele Patte Jhoome
Peehu Peehu Papiya Bole Chal Baag Mein]

Summer: Summer, Summer go away come again another day
Fiery Sun God is very active with all its fire power and ammunition. These days of long, boring summer just take away all my feelings, leaving behind a high and dry BeeeBees. Even my heart longs for a few drops of fresh blood. Nevertheless, summer has to be there. Talking about global warming, summer may be a better option than the ice age.

[Esho hey Baishakh, Esho Esho, Taposh O nishasho Baye, Mumursure Dao Urdaye . .]
(Come, oh Baishakh (April)! come, Breathing the fragrance of meditation. . . . .Tagore)

Monsoon: Barkha Rani, why not Barkha Raja? Gender Biased?  Barish will be better, and in my mother tongue, Bristi is more sweet, like rassogulla (mistti).

 Rain and my early Kolkata (Calcutta) days were very messy affairs, with muddy and slippery roads and a full stop to all outdoor activities. Rain and my romance started when I moved to Jammy (Jamshedpur). A planned town covered with green umbrellas, those thunderstorms, heavy rains, and cool breezes are still fresh in my memory. This is the season to not only have feelings but also something to look at. I like everything about it, no matter what the situation. A gloomy sky, crazy passing winds, and a few droplets try to caress me; I just look up and give a bright welcome smile.

[Pagla Hawa Badol Diney Pagol Amar Mon Jegey Othey]

(On a cloudy day when crazy breeze are passing, my heart start dancing all the way - Tagore)

Autumn: All of a sudden I fall in love with Sun, yes, that same Sun, change of mood, no, I am not a moody fella, a small piece of weak sun rays peeping through my window just reminds me that all sunny days are not fiery ones, some of those sunny days are also cute and funny days. A tiny piece of cloud left behind tries to find its own way through the blue sky, playing hide-and-seek with the sun and moon. The drumbeat of Durga puja or Navaratri and the fragrance of seuli (Prajakata)—the combo is just nostalgia.

[Eseche sarat himer paras legeche hawar pare, sakal belay ghaser dagay shishirer choya lage]
(Autumn (Sarat) is here, just feel the cool breeze and presence of morning dews on the top of grass – Tagore)

Winter : Thandi Hawa Yeh Chandni Suhani..../also reminds me the poem of Robert Frost - Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening.

This is my second home, Sili Hawa, or Chilly Hawa sab chalega. Always enjoy every bit of dripping mercury; sad mercury never drips that way these days. Winter means early morning lazing around, winter means blue sky, winter means feeling fresh with a cold-water bath, winter means foods and lots of foods, and winter means weight gain. In winter, apart from this weighty affair, everything feels good.

[Shiter Haway laglo Nachon, laglo Nachon Amlokir Oy daley daley . .]
(Winter breeze dancing and dancing through those amlaki (amla) trees - Tagore)

Spring: My early memories of spring belong to my school days, when we used to celebrate Basant Uttsab (Spring Festival), a beautiful musical extravaganza. Slowly, one day it was just meaningless to me, but today, when cuckoos start singing, I cannot resist walking to my window and trying to locate them on the tree top. No! Cuckoos are not the ones or their beautiful singing that actually draw me to the window.

• I just want to locate the foolish crow and its nest. Why again and again these foolish creatures fall prey of those lazy cuckoos?

[Fagun hawai hawai Korechijey daan, Amar apon hara pran, Amar badhan chera pran ..]
(I have contributed my selfless soul, My soul bereft of all ties To the Fagun breeze - Tagore).

While romancing the seasons, I try to pay a little tribute to Tagore, also end with it.

[Din Guli mor sonar khanchay roilo na, roilo na, sei je amar nana ranger dinguli]
!!!Sad, that I am not able to keep my old days in a golden cage, all those my
multi-colour days !!!

The Guru : To Miss, Sir and ….. with love

In India, Gurus or teachers respected like anything and if you go by the old saying then they stand even above the GOD.  Most oldest and respected professional of the world consider to be Doctors and Teachers and sadly, these so called professionals unable to hold their places and their greed only responsible for this. Last week was the teacher’s day and I do not know whom to blame for this, but there is exception and there will be always.

I take the opportunity to say thanks to all my teachers, whatever I am today, for them only. My all journeys and every steps are belongs to them. I am not talking about the school or college teachers only. There are so many others –

• The books, which left lasting impression on me, the writers were my teachers.
• When an unknown fellow just give me a smile, teaches me how to smile for nothing.
• When somebody give away last penny to someone else, teaches me pleasure of giving.
• 
  
  The handicapped one try to achieve an unbelievable goal, teaches me to be patient and dedication. Thumbs Up to all my known and unknown teachers

One small incident which I want to share with you, when I was studying computer (FPH, Mumbai), I was having a friend who was handicapped by polio, one day while we were walking near Haji-Ali, a bunch of papers just slipped through her hand, and she picked up each and every sheet herself only, never allowed us to help her. I learned a lot from her on that day.

Learning never ends, I started with my guitar lesson and not one or two, I have three teachers. I am trying my best and hope; I will learn a few notes and chords, because guitars are not permitted in final journey. (Happy teacher’s day to my Guitar Teachers)

I never thought one day I will be a teacher, but today I am one of them and I think this happen to me by fate and not by choice. I am teaching and mater of fact may be enjoying. My students and myself always maintained a special relation and we always compliment each others. Hi KP! (Dadar) Are you reading? And SB…(Hawa Hawaii), big thanks, you are very lucky because god gave you peoples a big heart. On 5th, my students of all ages came with beautiful cards, flowers, chocolate, painting and gift. Frankly speaking, it was bit-embarrassing moment for me.

When writing this piece all of certain I realised that all of my students are big big fool, I should wish them on 1st April all fools day, because they never realised a small thing that actually they are my teachers. Yes! It is because of them I learned so much and mater of fact they all are my teachers –

!!!Hi! Studs.. Happy teacher’s Day to all of you. Keep teaching me.!!

Choli Ke Upar Kya Hai….

Excuse me!!! This is not an 18+ topic, because I am not an investigator and never tried to go beneath. What is beneath belongs to Subhash Ghai. I am just talking about above, so do not take me other way.

Dress sense is the best sense

Those days are gone, now wear whatever you like. See these designer clothes or I should say designer threads, with magnifying glass you can find few threads (around the assets). However, in my knowledge assets are those –

- protected and may be hidden.

Never mind, I never had that much money to buy designer stuff and never ever interested to do so. When I was in aboard and until early nineties I preferred a pair of jeans or pants and a T or a shirt, still I think it was best and most comfortable dress for moving.

Today, you can see good advertisement of undergarment even while people wearing a pair of jeans.

Recently one India’s best-known former journalist and owner of a film production house wrote in an e-paper, that Saris are best for women, he find women looks very sexy. Mr. PN…, please drapes yourself with one six yards and just travel 9am Ambarnath fast local from Dombivli to VT, if one thread out of six yards left on you, then Sexy? Yeah!!

Of course, exceptions are always there, my Christian friend from Dombivili, almost 5’7” frame wearing sari everyday and used to travel with us, always stand out in the crowd. You cannot ignore her, as six yards and she, just made for each other. Then my mother with all those white Tant sari, 5’1” tall, very fair (none of us looked like her) she used to look like a white angel.There was a rare occasion when I used to wear a sari, once some beautiful chiffon sari I bought from aboard and often we used to have a sari days in our office. My friends always told me I looked better in Saris, but wearing sari means working overtime, an alarm clock have to fix at least one hour early than my normal scheduled time. Why waste time? My Dress code is –
- Covering self with comfort and not time-consuming one.

Hawa me urta jaye mera rangeen Dupata chiffon ka

Yes after I stopped wearing pants, for no reason, I preferred Salwar kameez and it is my second best comfort zone, but this dupatta is always a bit of tricky affair, once in a crowded train, my dupatta was under my feet and somebody else on my shoulder and I almost got down from train, thank god at last moment I realize that I was under a free rent-a- dupatta scheme.

Aap ruchi kaho aur app ruchi pahno, with dignify quotient. Dressing sense show your family value, I tried my best to follow, but now these days mantra is - Wear whatever you like and for the missing threads around your bod you can blame it on something than other, like –

!!!Global warming!!!

One Two Three - Go - Fast – Faster - Fastest - uff.. uff.. uff .. Oh. No!, Not again

Are you familiar with this situation?
Happened with me, many times and still happening.

Most probably, this is happening with everybody, all hardworking ‘middle class’ people. In my blog, you will find this phrase again and again - ‘Middle class’ - Because I am very proud of it. Frankly speaking, I like the tag. It is an invaluable ornament for me.

Now get back to the point, I am talking about all my personal goals, which I wanted to achieve but failed and most of the times, stranded just short of the finish line. Sometime it was a slip between cups and lips or can say finish line was just .000001mm far and I failed.

Failure is a failure, not how little or how big, I failed and that was the fact.

Just like this: -I wanted to buy a thing costing just Re. 1 and I was having only 99 paisa and when I got Re. 1, things just moved away from me, it was costlier and again out of my reach. Keep looking at it like a small kid, thinking someday, may be.., but never compromise, and started all over. Some of the success brought million-dollar joy, which was worth.

I faced those failed moment with very mixed emotions-
- Sometimes hurting myself, a little irritation, lots of anger, secret tears and even with a sarcastic smile and other times I said

- Forget yar, kya karna hai, pagal ho gaya? I just do not want it any more!!

No, it was not sour grapes for me, when I said loudly ‘Forget yar’, message was clear and I meant it. All those were very private moment for me, today; I just want to share these moments with my friends, those are reading it. I always lived with lots of pride and worked hard and harder to get each and everything, those are treasures for me.

Today when I moved away, getting older and may be wiser, those things are just a pile of garbage for me.
- Why in the first place I wanted those?

Only thing when I failed, I never gave up. Keep running to overcome that .000001 mm mark deficit.

Thoda hai, Thode ki Jarurat Hai

This is the truth, that –
- ‘Thode jarurat’. which, kept me going, Life would have been meaningless without this ‘little’.

So! Now I am rocking, laughing, joking, reading, listening to all kind of music [Specially classic- I got few of Begum Akhtar – just amazing], studying, writing, about to start my Guitar lesson and enjoying. You can call it full circle, but sometimes

!!!!Still going for this ‘Thode’ [old habit yar]!!!

My real ingredients Moving, Walking, Breathing and Running. Arre Eto urd raha hai!

Yes, I am talking about my real ingredients. I will start with running business

- Start with the red liquid running through my tiny cannels, nalas and rivers, pumped by my precious heart. If you go by all complicated counts of doctors report then it has so many factors, frankly I never bothered much about these, like H, W, Sugar, Salt, more and less. All I know, it is keeping me hot.

- The pair, around 32½” tall, Bus No. 11. I used these and I mean it. When all were walking, I was running and when all were running, I ran an extra mile. The tolerance of my base camp, a surprise package all the way. Sorry Bhai! Only thing, I was always grounded.
- Only request - Please just, bear me, may be few moments or few days or . . ?

- These are my feeding tools. Doing everything for me, when I find a little muscle around my upper limb, I feel very happy, because this is product of my hard work. Still, strong enough to send a Baseball out of the park. Fingers on it, magical! Done a great job for me, even now I am using it, writing.

Let us go upstairs

- Tongue, may be bit disappointed by my attitude, I never ever able to move it – I mean Juban Chalana, I preferred silence over the outburst (except few occasions). I am neither a foodie but I am a good Fusion cook. (Fusion cook? Another day). Want a Smile? No problem!

- This work very silently, except when I get cold what you call – running nose. Once upon a time, I was able to provide lots of O₂, but now I do not know the composition, this is all about chemistry or Greenhouse-mystery. All I know, the absence of bi-directional airflow from my nostril, my non-existence will be the existence factor.

- These are prize possession. With the help of these I can scan through the mind of any one, work like a laser beam. I can attach and try to detach from the world using this pair. Often a unique query passes through my mind,
- Absence of eyelids? A shiver runs through my spine, house without doors. What about my dreams? These are closed-door affairs.

- When these are prize possession for me, so many just missing these, I donated these in my twenties. Just do it, why think about your body, beyond life.

- Top floor, protected by natural protected gears, my brain – let us say Bheja or Dimag (A very hot, garam one, with 440 volt tag), I am very thankful to God for giving me a bit of it. Many told me that “You are having a Computer Brain”, I do not know if this is a compliment or just -
- Pulling my leg.

Do Computers have brain? While assembling, search for it – Brain? Nowhere!

This piece is very restless, I am trying to write a complicated program, its roaming somewhere else, but still it is under my command, when I say –

- come on Yar, you cannot do this to me, I am trying hard and you just having fun, response immediately and join me instantly.

This one - I do not know where it is. Believe me! I mean it. How to explain in English? Heart? No! That is doing its duty until now. I am talking about Mann –All the time it is flying, leaving me behind

– All continents, oceans, countless seas and countries and beyond.

- Imagine, other day it was experimenting about Pluto! I was just shivering.

- May be one day it will start exploring Sun and I will be in ashes.

!Ye mann hi bata de tu kis jagaha me rahata hai tu !

[Oh God! Why you played this trick? Put it in somewhere and never ever disclosed the place! Where is the Remote control? Do not get angry – I am always very very thankful to you, for all…]

Dombichi Baika’s, always rocking

I am back again with places!

Here, a piece of life from women of Dombivli.This was the place where I was staying during 90’s. When I left I.I.T. Powai (keep for another day), move to this place that time my mind was just look for a better place. Somebody there may be thinking that I was a craziest of all, where is picturesque I.I.T and where is Dombivli, but life in Mumbai is that crazy. For those, who have no idea about Dombivli - this place is one of the town situated in outskirt of Mumbai, having 100% literacy with a tag like this - one of the most cultural town in India. The peoples of Dombi belongs to--India’s so called very hard working middle class society.

All Dombivlikars faced a very acute water problem and I was no exception (pani pani re Khare… chup not khare pani, tap ka pani! Khare pani? Ha.. mere do boond ansu ka koi kimat nahi?).

In this place, I was what you call unsocial at its best. My door used open twice, once from inside in the morning and at night 9 something from outside, only exception was my friends from upstairs and their mother always used to send me some than other delicacies (thanks).

In the morning, I/We (all women of Dombivli) used to run to the one direction – Station, the speed may make Usain Bolt and late Flo Jo to think twice about their training facilities.

When train approach to Dombivli station, oh my god!

- Indian army should take some courage under fire form these women. Getting into respective train in single piece is a gold medal wining performance and getting a place to seat-

- Ye syana bait ne ko mila to sone ko chahta hai, chal bidu khare ra.

If you find a place, say first and second seat, sleep instantly thinking yourself in an island. Little advise, don’t go for third or fourth one, as there is always a Tom and Jerry situation between
both, who can push whom and how hard and at certain point – tu, tu, main, main…., oh! forget it, roz ka lafda.

If you are standing, then you should know the balancing act (Jor lagake haiya), on both feet, its too much for asking, one foot or one toe, chalega (Khiladi hai koi, madari hai koi). Once you settled down (no matter what way) you can do anything- shopping, praying, joking, singing, and gossiping about mother-in-law and vice versa.

Those come from beyond Dombivli have lots of complain – these Dimbivlichi Baika….so … and so…(Sorry bit slang-uage problem), but they stop instantly, once train cross Thakurli station- - just guess why?

In the evening they are all ready for bit revenge, when back in Dombi and train come still on the platform, they will get down one by one, taking their own time and talking about everything, anything and nothing – like

- jhopli hoti, kadi Dombivli aali?
– Bhiti kasala, Dombivli ani train kute janar nai.

- oh joshi kal tujha mistor la bagitla or macchi ghayun janar, bangrechi curry karnar amti deyun, chan batte. (Do not go by my Marathi- gele dhaha baras me Marathi bolle nai)

There is no time limit, the guard will sleep thrice and get up twice before he can press the button and train can move further.

Apart form bonding friends there will be aai’s, tai’s, mami’s, kaki’s, chikki’s, chechi’s, didi’s, akka’s, anna’s(of course full anna’s prohibited).

Still hats of to Dimbivlichi Baika, household chorus without any helping hand, office work, children and then daily dose of Judo/karate, still you will find fresh faces all over with beautiful smile.

All important offices in Mumbai have few of them, just go and check these offices on any Bandh days.

!!! Me ani Dombivlichi Baika, true fighting spirit, Zindabad, Zindabad, [ishh… aago bai]!!!

Dost, Dost Sab Raha Aur Pyar Pyar Bahut Mila

This is the most beautiful F***** word I ever heard.
Last Sunday was, what we call it -
Friendship day!Is friendship can be celebrated over a day?
For me 366 days 1 sec for leap year and for others 365 days plus 2 sec. My friends are my real treasure, I have them all over. When I talk about - Friends and Friendship - I am one of the most happiest and luckiest

Some of them sitting in Alexandria, Egypt and having a hot cup of qahwa, some in Bangkok, some in Australia, some in Singapore and many others, but most of them in Mumbai and some very young faces in Kolkata too. As I grown up, I always left a bit of myself inside me
So, for me Friendship is no age bound, it can be anything between1 to 100.

When I am talking about friends, I just can not do it without a song from my favourite band ABBA.
You and I can share the silence
Finding comfort together
The way old friends do
And after fights and words of violence
We make up with each other
The way old friends do
Times of joy and times of sorrow
We will always see it through
Oh I don't care what comes tomorrow
We can face it together
The way old friends do
For me - Blood is not thicker than water. So here I am, my friends – only for you.

!!! Ei Bandhu, Kahan chal diye, ek asli dost chahiye? Phir dil khol ke haso, Bas.. I am for you!!!

Darrrr. or Feeee…….. Fear

I will take a break from my journey to different places, as later I was a global citizen and that I am keeping for another day.

Fears, this is my strong point, always able to show my back to it. Like others, I also will start with some of my positive point, putting negatives under the carpet.

I am Fearless, I will be Fearless (most probably!) and I was Fearless.
If I said I was Fearless, frankly speaking it is not cent percent true. I rewind back to my very kiddy days, a quite and dark Kolkata, I used to get frightened by something! what?
Believe it or not, ghosts around me and those are not so funny looking which you must have seen in Great Satyajit Roys movie ‘Goopi Gayen and Bagha Bayen’.
Even spent a few sleepless nights, seeing somebody just calling me from my open window, only to find that, it was just a banana leave.
Calling Lord Ram all the times (Ram? Why?).
What I am doing with a Computer? My ideal occupation would have been a very good scary masks maker.
Later I was, you can call a dare devil. I can see an young BeeeBeees, far from land of snake charmer, jumping out from a eight floor window (more than 100 feet from ground), carrying a heavy wooden stool (no plastic stool those days) walking almost 20ft. on a parapet and jumped back into another open window, because her room was locked and keys was inside. (Socho kabhi aisa ho to kya ho? Maine soch liya (Aatvi manjil se kud jao) Scare? Thumbs down!)

Again, in a war stricken country full of crisis and with so many scary faces around, but she was just smiling, no she was not enjoying the game of war, if she have done so, then she should have sent to mental asylum.(Why those play it, they do not find a place there Any answer?).
She was smiling and enjoying her personal win over -
- A terrific battle – which? - fear of death.

There are so many, but just between you and me, some time fear also catch up with me -
When I hurt a dear friend.
and losing a dear one !
I fear most, not dieing, every body born once to die (that also once only) but journey from death bed to final moment.

So! What are you looking for, take out your boxing gloves from closet and give

!!!!The fearful fear a fiery and fearless fight [condition apply, ting…tong]!!!

Jam, Jam, Jammy…

This was the place

I was introduced to an India, that’s not means only Bengalis. Bihari’s, Oriya’s, South Indian, North Indian and most probably whole India and all of certain I was not just a Bengali any more, an Indian.
Yes this small town is very close to my heart, with happy memories from my school and college days. Yes! I am talking about Jammy (Jamshedpur). Road, electricity, water supply, education, and health services, play grounds all were neighbours envy and owners pride. A hilly town, picture perfect with two rivers flows across and pollution free.
Here I came to know two new languages, Oriya and Hindi.
It is so difficult to learn and easy to forget, like Oriya, now I can not even recollect a single word, but Hindi was integral part of my life and I am happy that still I can speak this language very fluently, as it is our National Language.
Of course when I am talking about languages, then just want to inform that I picked a few more afterwards – Goan, Marathi and Arabic and bit of Punjabi. Tried to understand a few more but may be by then, I lost interest in all types of Script, today I just want to kill myself for such ignorance.

Sorry Jammy, I was bit carried away with my lingo. My school – run by Tata Iron and Steel, was having all facility, even today some can not dream it. In those days, we used to go to school to learn and teachers used to come to teach only. My teachers, I may not remember their family name and most them may be no more but still I like to mention a few of them(just a little tribute) – Ms. Sudha(Bengali), Ms. Kamana (Phy), Ms Anjana (Chem), Ms. Nilima(Bio) and Ms. Malaya(Maths and sports). When I talk about sports, I was active member of a sport event, now wait a minute, what that sport event doing in my school in 70’s or even before. Most of India may not even heard of it before satellite sport channels shown it at the end of 90’s. Yes I am talking about Baseball, very funny, I am yet get an answer.
We also used to wait for 3rd March, founder (J. N. Tata) birthday, when a packet of sweets distributed, but I salute the founder everyday without him Jammy may be just an unknown village.
We were a bunch of happy go lucky girls, going school and college, with no radios, televisions and even news papers around us, our entertainment tools were our common sense and our sense-of-humours.

The town is always breathing around Tata Iron and Steel factory and adjourns Tata Locomotive. It is bit of Jammy, bit of irony, little bit of steely and all riding together (Nano?).

In those days (not today) it was just a sleepy town, always waked up with each sirens (depend on working shifts). Night 9 O’clock siren was very dear to us, as it was time to say good bye to studies and time for dinners.
Sadly, I lost two of my most precious thing here - My mother and my childhood.
But, why blame it on Jammy? Then whom …
.
Let me think…. Eureka…
.
Blame it on fate and Samay.

Can some body tell me…? Why this Samay -

!!! always ticks clock-wise and not anti-clockwise? !!!

My Kolkata Konnection or 3K’s

KK, Kolkata Konnection or Kismet Konnection!
I am born here and most probably came back after long years
- to die! nobody knows!
My family back here blackmailed me to do so or bailed me out; only time will tell. But, if you consider my financial condition, it improved, as expenses gone down heavily.

Frankly speaking, nothing in Kolkata excite me-
Politically involved people, The governance , The Electric supply, The administration, The transportation, The road and environment, And finally the work culture
Is Kolkata living on its past glory?
After ten long years I still don’t know my neighbours properly and I don’t have a single friend or may be I, never tried hard to make one.

My days as hard as Mumbai, morning 8.30am I start, go to Computer Inst., run by me, at 9.30pm finally the closing time, then go to my brother's medicine shop, check the daily account and by 10.30pm, back to square. Sundays is different – mainly, it’s only with and for (little N.G- I will write another day).

When I start 8.30 every morning, walk around 10 minutes to reach the building where my work place now stands. This walk is not pleasure, just routine for me.

Morning when I reach my so called present work place, its some sort of “my ship my order”, the caretaker of the building will greet me “Didibhai”-
the first smile, just start peeping out of my cloudy face.

When I entered 750Sq. Ft. flat, my new world start here, first of all, I find a few heartless objects, just staring at me-
Computers! These are my best friend, apart from giving me my daily bread; these are also source of knowledge, entertainment and all in one package. Frankly speaking I really love them.

But that’s not the end-
Here, I am coming face to face with many living objects too, they are not heartless, and they are in all sizes, shapes, ages and either sex.
They are my students!

And one fine day I realize-
Creativity, this one thing Kolkata has no competition! So Kolkata Konnection and Kreativity(3Ks)
My students!! all are so creative, some thing then other – almost all are in drawing or painting, some in music, some playing beautiful instrument and others fiercely using their best weapon – pen.

One fine day one of my Ex. Student, who is doing English Honours in a reputed college, visiting me after finishing his first guitar lesson, he made me sit on a stool with his guitar in my hand and tried his best to teach me the first lesson which he just learned, and finally concluded “Mam! Guitar Shikhun” (Mam! Start learning the guitar)
Why not? I said. Since then I am looking for a guitar teacher whose time suits to mine.

One of them even presented me a Bengali dictionary. I don’t know, if I ever able to justify her faith on my writing.

And then some beautiful painting-
Young couple standing in an unknown sea shore and enjoying rain, I just walked and stand near them and then - You believe or not!They just smiled and that also looking at my direction, I am happy to share a few moments with them.
I get little high when I listen to the notes of their music, and the words they scribe on a writing board, all are amazing.

Then I, just look back to a very young school going BeeeBeees, in her light pink skirt and white shirt school uniform, she was a happy-go-lucky girl, bit famous in school and little bit in college(we all lose little identity in college) too, for writing-
In magazine, speeches for all occasion and every time she wrote a piece of essay teachers made a point to read it out in the class.

One pleasant morning, you know what happened?
She just looked back and flashing her down-to earth smile, I can not do it like her, as I have to go through lots of grind Still I try to flash one of my best to her and said loudly- Hey come on! Where are you all these days?
- Surprise! She instantly responded, and she was all over me, may be she was waiting for my call
- All of certain all my thoughts and dreams, flying in the form of tiny water bubble with multicolour wings and here, I am flying along-

~ ~!!!Catch me, if you can!!!!~ ~