Searching for Yellow Stripe

No, I am not shopping for any dress material. Every time I turned to the Television screen, which very often I do, as last one and half year I stopped watching T.V. Whenever accidentally I look at this wonderful visual device which gave us vision (more dream than reality), mission (never accomplished) and of course no motion, somebody always telling us to write a blog to save tiger. I am not a poacher; come on, you have to believe me I am telling truth and hundred percent truths, only living object which I killed are mosquitoes less for biting and more for their horrible singing capabilities, Cockroaches and ants. Last one is my favourite one, very social yet very irritating. My encounter with the tiger, powerful yet beautiful animal is only via Zoo. Yes! Once I have seen it in Nandan Kanon, Orissa too, but apart from that no other experience, otherwise I would have taken an interview and by the time definitely caught the poacher. Misquoted? Because, I am not from any sort of media.

The zoo which I visited are Alipore Zoo, Kolkata, Sakchi Zoo, Jammy, Alexandria Zoo, Egypt and of course RaniBaug, Byculla, Mumbai.

Let me give some rating, smallest of all zoo was one in Jammy and looking at the size of the town itself it is not that bad and my rating is two out of five. Kolkata zoo, so-so, something like chalega. In winter you will find a big queue in front, mostly visitors are from the near by villages, but apart from covering a large area, condition of the animals here are very bad. My rating is as same as Jammy. Alexandria, a wonderful zoo with lots of animal around and well nurtured too. Four out of five can be given without any hesitation.

Now it is Mumbai, amchi or tumchi or Indiachi, not going to debate, because I am talking about animal and nobody knows which state they belongs, obviously as they do not fight for that. State of this zoo in Byculla is miserable. I do not think anybody with little brain at the top floor ever planned to visit here. Most sought city, glamours one (for bollywood), most income tax coffer filler (not by Marathi’s) and most worst zoo, half out of five.

However, I am talking here about saving tiger project, Mumbai have many toothless tiger with big tongue.

Shiv-Sena, what they are doing? They should undertaken this project, at least sponsor one tiger, if there are no tiger around, what will be the future of their symbol, in future someone may think it is a rat or a mouse or may be a creature form Pandora.

Kolkata, home of Royal Bengal Tiger, do not think, that every man come from Kolkata is a tiger like Saurav Ganguly (I always wonder what he have done to compare with an animal like tiger), neither every women is a tigress like Sharmila Tagore. Ha! Remember, there is Tiger Pataudi, handsome, tall fella and a wonderful cricketer. Why he called a tiger? May be he killed more dear than the tiger. The LTTE boss, he never fought like a tiger and neither died like one.

We are from pure middle class, 24 carets, we cannot harm or neither help this project but if my writing can do it, I will do it. Do not go by my horrible sense of humour. I really concerned for all these and why only tiger look at the vanishing Sparrows and Mainas from our neighbourhood tree top because there are hardly any tree around. It was such an enjoyable experience for me when walked back and forth from Dombivili station, my god, the only tree near the station at Dombivli west which gave shelter to the thousand of birds and mostly parrot, what a wonderful sight that was.

!!!Greedy and selfish two legged animal, never think that the perishing time is coming for all, whom to blame, obvious choice you and I.!!!

Dial R*A*M*M for Goa

Twice I had been to Goa and only thing I can tell about it that it is a perfect place to visit concerning scenic beauty. Today we read many horrid stories about Goa and celebrities from Goa keep blaming foreign tourist for this state, as it is very easy for them to make a statement in the media. Mainly crimes towards the women are in Goa is a common thing now these days and every here and there you will hear something happening and mostly associated with women. Rape, Abuse, Molest and Murder are sounds like as it is some word from school syllabi in Goa. Frankly speaking, Goa was never safe place, not today and not before, I am talking about as back as early eighties.

Yes early eighties first time I visited Goa. I was not holidaying, I gone there for the wedding of my friend’s brother. After eighteen hours of bus journey when I reached there, my friend was there at the bus stop, we had our lunch in a local hotel and proceed to their village house. My friend just bundle me out to a Bike, I thought the rider may be known to her but after reaching her village home I came to know that the Bike was one type of convenience and I have to pay for my ride. It was not that bad but only Goa where I have seen this kind of public convenience. The house and surrounding was picture perfect, you cannot ask something more than that for a few days gateway from Mumbai, a dreamland. That time the village was not having electricity.

I born in Kolkata and most of my childhood spend in Jammy, so never seen a real village before that one. My friend’s grandmother was very fond of me and whenever she used to visit Mumbai always used to make a point to meet me. Night we served with Goan food, just what we Bengali’s like, Fish Curry and Rice. Nevertheless, the rice was fresh from there own farm. Next morning, when I got up I could hear lots of hustle and bustle around the neighbourhood, when I asked my friend what all about it, she informed me that a bus for Panaji just going to arrive and that was the only bus, which will go to capital of Goa, and by late afternoon, the bus will return. Even the bus was having a regular conductor but it stopped to every doorstep to the request, which sounds like this ‘Rao Re’ (Stop). It was very enjoyable experience. By late afternoon, I found that the dress I supposed to wear for next days wedding was not properly iron. When I told this to my friend, she told me that I could do this only on the main road, which was twenty minutes away from her house. So I decided to go to the main road with a twelve year old boy from neighbourhood. When we reached to that laundry, the man was busy with other cloths, after finishing, he ironed my cloth and when we about to return back, it was little dark. We keep talking many things, as I was knowing Kokani very well. When we reached midway, it was very dark and then we heard a footstep just behind of us. Then all of certain the boy shouted at me

- ‘Aunty run’. I said ‘Why?’ he never replied and started running. I too followed him. I was very athletic person and running was not new thing for me, but running for life, yea, it was only for the first time. After running rest of the distance, only stopped when we reached at my friend’s house. Then I asked him ‘Come on, why you make me run?’ he told me that –‘Aunty, the fellow behind us may be following us, this is Goa and you do not know, nothing is safe here’.

The incident was part of my life happened in early eighties and the above dialog was just from a Goan and above all he was only twelve years of age. Even until today, I can laugh for one of that situation, when in dark and dusky evening; I was running for my life through narrow village road of Goa, very adventures. Not just the women, the beautiful land which they inherited, itself raped, molested, abused and murdered by the anti-social elements of Goa. Drugs and liquor are something which available in every by lane. Therefore, big mouth celebrities, stop blaming the tourist, because of them only Goa is a hotspot among tourists, and try to do bit and find a solution.

!!!In our life, blaming someone else is the easiest thing to do, easy way-out if you want to hide your own weakness.!!!

Things that sinks with every passing day

Losing a dear one and that combined with a great human being, no wealth in the world can compensate that. My mother was a wonderful human being and a very quite person, whose most of the days used to spend in the kitchen only. She was very fair and just around 5’ or little over. She was an asthmatic patient, in those days there were not much options for this chronic disease. We were having privilege of getting all best medical benefit from TMH (Tata Main Hospital), during winter and monsoon mother was a frequent visitor to the hospital and often used get admitted.

I was getting ready for my first board examination, just couple of month away from it and then one-day mother have to admit in the hospital, it was nothing new to us. I visited her that particular evening, met her at the hospital, just could not make it very next day for something and finally in the afternoon day after that I managed to sneaked in the hospital, as it was not a normal visiting hour, found her in ventilator. Frankly, I was not too worried, because we were very novice and even having no idea about that machine called ventilator. The nurse who was attending her was very sympathetic to me; tensed twenty-four hours passed that way. After visiting her next morning I came back home for lunch but could not able to have it, by some instinct instantly gone back to the hospital. I saw the same nurse who was attending my mother on the corridor and when she saw me she just turn back and moved to the other way, I failed to get the signal. It was all over. My mothers’ very quite presence in the house became a reality, it was really very quite over there and only memory of her that remains. With in a few days I was normal and start preparing for my board examination, even overheard my classmate “everybody have to move on, no matter whatever happened”. However, I was wrong as well as she too, my life is never as same as it was and with every passing day, it keep sinking in me. I still can narrate every word of which taken place during my last visit to her in the hospital. May be by death she become an integral part of me.

I was then very young and new to Mumbai; she was having three kids and younger one just a few months old. When we met for the first time, we just smiled to each other, next instant she told me to visit her and she used to do so whenever she met me thereafter. Later I came to know that her respect for Bengali’s, what made her taking bit more interest towards me. Therefore, I started visiting her and that was where it started, a long-standing relationship, which was having no name. Her house was always my second home. Whenever any good things or vice-versa happened in our life, we were first person to tell each other. Her husband treated me like a sister and to her vast family whoever were there I was treated like a one of them. Even when I used to get sick, she never allowed me to go back home and taken care of me. In my case whenever I back from anywhere after landing Mumbai, my first destination was always her house. Once we both were going through some financial problem and one evening she came to my place with all smile to handover a few bucks which she got from somewhere. I told her

- Come on! I will take care of it; you have a family to look after.

She was one who never gives up. We were two different individual, having lots of different opinion, coming from different cultural background but at the same time shares many common bonds, enjoyed our outings, movies, tennis, game of cricket with lots of enthu. My last visit to Mumbai I stayed with her couple of days, she was disturbed for certain thing and pours her heart to me and then I last talked to her on Diwali before last one.

Last year one night I was doing something that now these days I hardly do, reading a storybook. Around 9.30 p.m., her niece (a friend of mine and like a sister to me) called me on my cell to inform that Chikki (aunt) is no more, within few hours she was gone.

I took it very coolly as if nothing happened and back to my reading, then had my dinner and finally gone to sleep and then its started sinking in me, memories of all those thirty years, everything. I just can see her in our first meeting in a housing board building third floor staircase and smiling to each other. It took me almost seven-eight days and a few sleeping pills to recover. I was very down and some of my close students helped me out with their counseling.

Big thanks to these two wonderful women, one who brought me to this world and other I met by chance. Wish you two a very very happy women’s day. In this world, no one deserves it more than you two do.

!!!Memory of loving one, Just like old wine, with time it gets better, only one make you high and other leave you very dry!!!

Glee, Music, Dance and of course lots of Colours, Don't Mind Yaar, it's Holi!

At present my beloved winter standing at its twilight, out of my window I can see the cold breezes are vanishing thick and fast. Feeling very down, as it is time to say good-bye to the most loved ones, I mean winter.  Only hope that it may strike back with all its charms within another eight months. Already fans are swinging in full force and waiting for the dreaded summer. This is spring; nothing special than the beautiful flowers blooming in everybody’s garden and can hear the sweet singing of shrewd Cuckoos. It is also time for spring harvest. In our country, this is Phagun and in Kolkata, month of Phalgun, only thing we can remember in Phagun is HOLI. This one of such festival which simply standout form all other festivals of our country. It is celebrated just on the next day of Phagun Full Moon.

Holi means riot of colours. This is only festival celebrated uniform way all over India by putting little regional flavour. There are many believe regarding the origination of this festival. Many believe that Holi mainly originated from Vrindaban where festival of colour played between Radha-Krishna. Women, especially, enjoy the freedom of relaxed rules and sometimes join in the fun more aggressively. In Rajasthan what I know that women having full permission to flog the men, at least once in whole year its work opposite direction. Even it has done with a playful intention; still flogging anybody is most inhuman thing to do.

The Holi Bonfire, another nostalgic thing related with the Holi. The origin of the traditional lighting of Holi Bonfire is attributed to the burning of Holika, the sister of demon, Hiranyakashipu, while trying to kill, Bhakta Prahlad. Holi Bonfire takes me back to Kolkata in my early days. Once I collected a few woods from our garden all by myself to the near by pond, which adjoined to our house, after I lighted, all new flower in our Mango tree destroyed instantly, the bonfire after that incident, please do not force me to tell you.

Apart from my early days I was never very much active in this festival even I liked it very much. In Kolkata there were many innovative things used to happen when I was staying there. We used to make phichkari using Bamboo and made natural water colour by boiling Palash Flower (Flame of the Forest). While staying in I.I.T. neighbours banged my door regular interval, only on this particular day my door always remain closed for my neighbours. The brave door took all the beating year after year, tolerates all anger and irritation of my neighbours on behalf of me, and never gave up.

Most funny thing about Holi is that people move around with their multi-colour faces with this slogan – “Holi Hai”, seems it is the most secret thing to share with everybody. Even over the years, I have not taken part in this festival, still among all Indian festival this is the best and standout from others. Why? To enjoy this festival you just need -

!!!Five Rupees in Your Pocket and a Pair of Old Torn Outfits, Come on Guys! You are Rich Too.!!!