LIFE IS LOOKING UP

hell ya! thats the way they say it in yankeeland. in my place they say, "mar diya kella". well, there is sufficient reason for me to be so happy and perky. my dad is retiring today, the last day of a memorable career. he has worked tirelessly as a teacher for many years and as headmaster and administrator for the last few years. i might be biased when i say that he could have done great things for himself if he ever wanted to do, but i somehow feel that i'm not too much off the mark. he never had the drive to achieve those things for himself though, the eternal story of a comrade from bengal. he was born the fourth son of gopiballav mazumder and annapurna mazumder in a remote village called gangarampur. he had eight siblings, three brothers and five sisters. typical of that generation the concern for birth control was simply non existent and so were the means. at the risk of sounding blasphemous, i would like to add that if anything should have been invented a little earlier it should have been the CONDOM. today we sing songs about condoms, yet, just two generations before my grandfather sired nine children! anyway, coming back to my father, he grew up in that small village the first few years of his life. his family wasn't exceptionally rich although they were zamindars prior to independence. the reason prima facie is that my grandfather, a well known leader of the zilla congress and a freedom fighter, was a very rigid man when it came to toeing the line. the government diktat was that every individual could own only a certain amount of land and no more. this was done to make the distribution of land equitable in a country which was notoriously lopsided as far as division of wealth is concerned. however, the fledgling government could only issue diktats, and not much more. there was no system in place to check the corrupt from hoarding huge amounts of land under false pretences. my grandfather was one of those men who gave away all his land just because it was the rule.

so, although they weren't exactly poor, they weren't very rich either. my eldest uncle was raised by my grandfather's brother. he was many years older than his youngest brother. my father was eighth in the line and grew up more or less in that rural setting. he, however, left home at the age of eighteen after having finished schooling. it was the difference of political ideologies between the my granddad and my dad which led to this situation and this difference was never resolved till the granddad's death. my father respected his father very much but could not compromise with his political ideologies either. he was the first breed of communists of Bengal, one of the first batch of men who dreamt of an equal world. Bengal was tumultuous place in his youth. the faith of the masses was slowly shifting from a dilapidated congress led by the flamboyant siddhartha shankar ray, who had more interest in leading the nation than taking care of Bengal. Bengal witnessed many bloody riots and massacres in the 70s. food was scarce and drought was the danger that drove millions into a frenzy. the world has borne witness to bloody battles wherever communism has taken roots. Bengal was no exception. people were shown the dream of a better future, an equal world, and the lure of a good life. it was the opposite of george orwell's 1984, and the propaganda machine that the communists had was efficient and powered by fanatics. my father was one of those men who dreamt of the dream and lived the life that a comrade takes pride in. he lived in hiding and fought off many threats to his life. it was during the years succeeding his college days that saw him rise to the forefront in the local communist leadership.

it was then that a happy chance brought my parents together. my mom was a rather beautiful young woman who was known all around the district for her intelligence and aptitude. she had topped the board exams despite being bed ridden with typhoid and later with chicken pox. she was slated to join science and become a scientist. however, her headmistress decided that she had too good a flair for teh english language to be wasted on science. so, english it was that she took up. she came to the same college where my dad had studied and was now the president of the students' union. they fell in love and married within six months of meeting. it was his love for my mom that made my dad leave politics. i guess he may also have been disillusioned by the turn communism was taking in india and may also have foreseen the sad state of affairs that were to befall. he remains an ardent supporter till now, but age and the state of affairs have robbed him of the strength of his conviction. he does not fight over the right path of communism any more but chooses to be a silent spectator.

he joined halisahar high school as an assistant teacher of chemistry and continued there for many years. it was only when i was in my class ninth that he decided to apply for headmaster and qualified as the headmaster of kataganj gokulpur adarsha shikshayatan, the largest and most prestigious school of its area. like i said in the beginning, he could have scaled many peaks if he had chosen to, but he was a man of that generation which sadly is no more. they were satisfied with little, the hunger for more had not afflicted them. call it consumerism, call it evolution of the human race, he was perhaps a man from a different era. men of his ilk chose to ignore the frivolous luxuries of life and concentrate on the bare necessities. there have been many students who have received free coaching from him because he believed that taking money for private tutions was akin to stealing. like i said, his generation exists no more, at least not where i live. so, today when i see him retiring as a satisfied man, a man who may not have left behind too deep an imprint on the sands of time, but a man who knows that he did his job diligently, and, hence, the satisfaction, all i can wish for myself is that many years later i can achieve the peace that he has. he isn't just my role model but the gold standard by which i shall measure myself every step of my life so taht i never go astray.

BTW, i gifted him a golden retriever puppy. they were both very angry and shocked at the gift but i just knew that that cute pup would win over them in no time. now i hear that my mom is considering buying diapers for the dog! yet, they still crib about who is going to take care of the dog! :)

BHALO THEKO THAKUMA... FARE THEE WELL GRANDMA

CONTINUED FROM MY LAST POST...........

he refused to leave his village and there was no way that my dad could leave his job and go back to the village. so it was left to barun uncle, i call him kaku, to take care of him. barunkaku did manage to extract the only thing he had left, his house, but took care of him till his last days. after all barun kaku isn't a man of great means, and he needed that house more than the others. my mother always shared a great bonding with my grandmother, the two women recognising kindred souls. one one hand was a pragmatic woman who spoke little and strove hard to never come in anyone's way, one the other hand was a scatter brained, yet, fiery young woman, who would take no slight lightly. somehow, they struck a cord and i have seen my mom share great moments with her mother-in-law. this, in spite of my grandfather's dislike for my mom. so, after my grandpa died, my parents really wanted my grandma to come and live with us. she, however, was far more practical than them, she realised that she wouldn't fare very well far away from her village which is the only place she had known for years. besides, she also realised that she needed care in her advanced age and that would be difficult for my parents to provide, since they were both working individuals. on the other hand, barun kaku's wife was a housewife (a home maker in today's politically correct terms) and she would be able to look after her.

it was in gangarampur she spent the rest of her days and today morning she breathed her last. i haven't really been the best grandson she could hope for, but then she isn't one to complain. she, even when in delirium, recognised me and always had a soft word or two to say. somehow, the tears don't seem to come that easily this time. yet, i know i am going to miss her. its probably for the best that she died, because she was suffering so, but still the heart refuses to let go. i wanted to see her one more time before she left and now i don't have that chance. now, the tears are coming and its a relief. i worry for my dad though, he loved her a lot. i wonder what it would be like to lose my own mother, the woman who is responsible for everything i am. i don't really know who i am crying for, her or me.

BHALO THEKO THAKUMA... FARE THEE WELL GRANDMA

CONTINUED FROM MY LAST POST.........

my mother had lost her father when she was very young and my grandmother, a formidable woman, had brought up her four daughters on her job of a nurse. it is not just a commendable effort but also a herculean task as any single mother will attest. the fact that all her daughters grew up to be the women they are today are a testimony to her fortitude and hard work. my mother was the second of the four sisters and the most brilliant of the lot. she was not just good in her studies, but also an accomplished actor and performer. she could well have gone on to the stage were it not for the fact that she just didn't have the drive for it. today when i pride myself in taking part in quite a few stage performances in my time, i know its my mother's genes that i am carrying. people who she dominated in stage competitions and performances in her days in school and college are household names in bengal today, and i sometimes feel that were she born today, she might have gone on to grace the silver screen. she had the sweet beauty of the innocent bengali woman that has all the film industries of the country in a thrall today. in fact, i think that my dad had made quite a catch in her when he married her. she was an eloquent speaker and a great performer, one who has been praised by the likes of Rudra Praasd Bannerjee. today, when i see the likes of Kajal Sur and others rue the fact that she never went on the stage i feel inclined to force her to take up her vocation again. but the fact is, its too late. she had sacrificed her career and her vocation for her children.

my mother didn't go down well with my grandfather. he was a man who never gave an inch, and the fact that my father had married without his consent was unacceptable to him. the rift between my dad and my grandpa was quite evident every time they met. my father had left home because his political ideals never met any favour with my grandfather. yet, it was my grandma who suffered the most in the bargain. she had lost the son who was closest to her and took most care of her. my father the eighth out of nine children. they were five sisters and four brothers. my father being so much younger to his eldest brother was rather the baby of the house. yet, he always held his own in a house with a myriad tensions. it was he who took care of his mother and when he left it was quite a blow to the soft spoken woman. every time when my father returned home, i have seen the joy in her eyes. although, she never said much, it was quite evident that she loved him a lot. after my grandpa's death, she never grieved very loudly. yet, i have seen how sorrow can make a woman go weak. they were an odd couple to start with- she hardly educated and he the same. she preferred to keep quiet and let problems blow away, he preferred to take every problem by the horn. she was considerate and pragmatic, he was tempestuous and hardly pragmatic. he squandered away all his wealth and distributed everything he had among his sons much before he died. the next thing he knew was that all he was left with was his house and no one to take care of him in his old age. ironically, it was his two youngest sons, whom he had ignored in his donation of wealth, who came forward to take care of him.

TO BE CONTINUED...........

BHALO THEKO THAKUMA... FARE THEE WELL GRANDMA

i still don't know why the tears refuse to come. it's not like i didn't love her enough, for god knows that i loved her. i didn't know her enough and i wasn't always that close with her. but then she was the sort of person anybody could fall in love with even in the shortest span. i have seen her only a handful of times in my life. not like my maternal grandmother who lived 2 minutes from my house and i used to meet her every day, a number of times. she lived at the other end of the state, in Gangarampur. now, gangarampur is my village, the way we say it in india, woh mera gaon hai. although, i have never really spent more than 10 days at a strech in that village it still has its roots somewhere in my blood. i guess it has something to do with all those stories my dad used to tell us of his childhood of a place so radically different from where we grew up. every time i went to the village my dad became a new man. he was in his elements, so to say. he would romp around, clad in nothing but a wet towel and a pair of chappals. he would take that fishing net of his, he says they call it khapla jaal in the village, and go for fishing in the ponds. he would take the old cycle out and go around the village meeting old friends and acquaintances, catching up on lost time. he was lucky in that respect i must say, for when i go home today there isn't anybody i know, barring a couple who have remained. the draught of jobs in rural bengal, as well as in bengal as a whole has forced all the young men and women to seek greener pastures elsewhere.

it was on those short trips that dad used to make annually to the village that i came across my grandma. its very easy to miss her as she is one of the quietest persons i have ever seen. not once in all my experience have i seen her raising her voice or complaining about anything under the sun. besides she was very short too. at just 4'10", she looked really comical next to my grandpa, who at 6'4" towered over almost all who were present. they are, in fact, the most lopsided couple i have come across till date, and i have come across quite a few of them i must say. he was boisterous, to say the least, and as stoic as they come. he was unbending like the willow, even till his last days, which also soured his relationship with many people, including his progeny. he was one of the freedom fighters of yore who survived the ordeal. he went to prison during the days of the revolution and bore the scar marks to prove them. he was awarded with the bronze plaque by the president of india in memory of his great service to the nation. he was a staunch supporter of the congress party and worked tirelessly in his many capacities, starting from local councilor to party bigwig. many a story i have heard from my father, who despite his unresolvable disputes with his father never ceased to admire him, of his honesty and unbending faith in principles. he was a politician from a different time and mould, one that we, who are accustomed to toady's corrupt and self serving lot, find it hard to place.

it was the political difference between my dad and his father which led to my dad leaving his home after my dad had completed schooling. he left his village and came and settled in kalyani, at his uncle's place. it was in kalyani university that completed his studies and went on to become a prominent leader of the local CPI(M).it was also in the portals of this same university where he met my mother-to-be. theirs was a rather short lived love story. they fell in love one spring time and got married by the time winter hadn't completely left bengal. my mother was one of the most brilliant students in her region. she had topped the school boards despite being admitted in the hospital at the time of her exams. she was tuoted for great things in life and almost everyone who met her had advised her to take up science and become a scientist. women of her calibre were rare in the country in those days and she was slated to rise high. yet, there was one teacher, the headmistress actually, who felt that her favourite student was better cut out for arts and advised her to take up the arts. personally, i feel she would have dome great wherever she went, but science would probably have been the better option. you wouldn't realise it looking at her now, but domesticity of the past 27 years has changed her a lot. i remember the scatter brained young woman who had just got a job as as assistant teacher of english in a local school, and was trying hard to balance her job and her domestic life. i have heard innumerable stories of her as a young woman rushing to school, her saree only half draped and the pallu dragging in the dirt behind her. she might have done much more in a lab where she would probably have found may people of her ilk. even aftre forty years of wearing a saree, she still doesn't know how to drape that pallu so that it doesn't drag in the dust and dirt behind her. it is incumbent on the person behind her to carry the pallu, quite like a vassal carrying the hem of a queen's dress. she does look quite dignified today when she sits in that headmistress' chair, with her spctacles and all, and i think that her students and some of the junior teachers are actually afraid of her, but somehow i can't reconcile myself to that fact. she is still that sweet and scatter brained woman to me who dithers every time she has to make a decision and makes life all the more difficult for me.

TO BE CONTINUED...........

AMAN KI ASHA

i just went through shaukat siddiqui's magnum opus khuda ki basti. roughly translated it says god's own slum. but the translator named it much more romantically, "god's own land". now, that might be romanticism on part of the translator who, by the way, has done an amazing job on the translation, but the book in itself has no traces of romanticism. unless, of course, you are the types that links reality with romanticism.in fact, his novel has amazing parallels to some of our own great authors. take sarat chandra chattopadhyay for example. now, this novelist may have plied his trade in bengali, but thanks to devdas, he need no introduction to most indians. he is one of those authors who reveled in reality and his works brought out the contours of rural bengal to great effect. so does shaukat siddiqui in this novel. in parts you can actually get lost, almost like you were in a crowded room and you had no idea what you were supposed to do. there are so many characters spinning off in their lives in so many directions that all your guesses are bound to go wrong. its so real that its almost frightening because just like life you can hardly second guess what's about to come. the main protagonists go through an amazing number of tribulations and hardships and, yet, as is supposed to in most novels, their hardships never come to an end. the kind of situations they go through we, in today's india are hardly able to relate to, same as some of the situations some of the kids in slumdog millionaire go through are impossible to believe for the europeans.

that brings me to the most fundamental point in my blog today. pakistan is our next door neighbour and, yet, we know lesser about that country than we do about united states of america, for example. i am sure that almost 99% of us, if asked, would say that all they knew about pakistan is that its a breeding ground for terrorists. i am an officer of the armed forces. i am one of those men who people simply expect to know all about pakistan. yet, all i know is that it has 5 important ports- jiwani, gwadar, pasni, okhra, karachi. i remember that we were taught that pakistan is made up of the following states- punjab, sind, balochistan, north western frontier province(NWFP), and FATA(Federally Administered Tribal Areas). well, and i also know that most of the terrorist camps are located in FATA. and that's about it. yet, there are almost hundreds of ways in which we can read about pakistan, talk to pakistanis and see some of that country, online that is. however, to put it straight, we never will. we will go and find out that new zealand's indigenous population consists of maoris, who originally travelled from australia about five thousand years ago, after having made a pit stop at some of the pacific islands. we will know all the stories that revolve around the original invasion of the white man of the americas. we know how they fought with the red indian tribals and how many us presidents there were. we know which counties of UK Boycott and Beckham come from. we also know all that is there to know about the great lakes of Scandinavia. yet, we know nothing about our next door neighbours. i mean, that i know that those countries provide us with a lot of employment and its bread and butter for some to know all that stuff. its also true that our media gives us so much more exposure to the western countries than pakistan.

yet, is there a little more to it than meets the eye? i am not trying to suggest any conspiracy theories at any cost. but the fact that no pakistani channel is ever broadcast on our cable television (by the way, is there more than one pakistani channel?), or anything other than how the pakistani government is trying to sabotage our best efforts at peace. i bet that's exactly what the pakistani people get to hear from their government and media? but what's the big deal with having a free democracy if dont get to see whats the reality? for that matter, we should get to read more pakistani authors in our school texts, authors like shaukat siddiqui who can give us a whole new outlook on that country, make us realise that ordinary people with ordinary needs exist as much in that country as they do in ours. we should get more exposure to people from that country so that all the mistrust and confusion are dispelled. it might also be a good chance to for us to realise that we have much more in common than some caucasian half way around the world. all this makes me realise that this recent venture at peace between the two neighbours isn't just an exercise in futility. its much more real, and is very important for our future. who knows if we learn to trust each other and get our own house in order we might be able to share a lot more than some cold vibes over the non-selection of pakistani players at IPL auction. who knows it might even pave the way to newer frontiers being scaled.

by the way, bipin your community aman ki asha is as great an idea as any other. good show.

THE TOOTH DEMONS ARE AT WORK.... AGAIN

i have had a lot of my prejudices removed over the last 48 hrs.by that i mean some of the most fundamental of my prejudices are now altered. like they say, we are but an amalgamation of our experiences and our conceptions are bound to alter as we come across newer experiences. now that i have spouted that whole load of garbage, it seems a remote possibility that someone is even going to go through the rest of my blog, given the average attention span of an ordinary individual today is far less than 60 seconds and the plethora of options available on the net. anyways what i have been trying to say is that i am in extreme pain. and this not the sort of pain that you can sozzle down with a glass of whisky. when devbarna left me for another guy or whatever reasons she might have had, i at least had the drink to seek recluse in. if there wasn't any shoulder to lean upon and pour my sorrows out, i could always hit the bar and drown them in 3 glasses of vodka mixed with sprite, a pinch of salt, a dash of fresh lime and a piece of green chillies. in fact the small eats that our naval bars prepare to go along with the drinks made the sorrows quite enjoyable at times. you could just recline on that sofa and look at the waves rolling up the beach, hear the wind serenading through the coconut groves and suddenly you weren't at the well manicured lawns of our naval mess any longer. you could float up in the dark sky as long as you wanted to, or at least until it was time for the bar to shut down.

yet, then, i felt as if this was the worst pain a man could feel, and it made me quite antipathetic towards women to say the least. what i did not know was that it would pass, leaving me wiser and more circumspect in its leave. next time around, i wouldn't invest my love so casually, would think thousand times, rather million times before trusting anybody completely. it also made me realise that life isn't really a bed of roses. good things don't necessarily happen to good people just like bad things happened to good people as well. however, the most important lesson was to keep looking out for my own vantage point, even in the most intimate of relationships, for the games never end. now, however, I'm in a completely different sort of pain. a pain that won't completely die down under the influence of the powerful painkillers that my doctor has been prescribing me. only those who have ever had a sever toothache can fully commiserate with me on this topic, for the rest its time to garner as much knowledge about this dreadful pain and keep the lessons you learn in mind. it was my laziness while brushing my teeth in my childhood coupled with lack of proper medical advice that has led to this state of events. i never used to brush twice in my childhood. its easy to pin all my troubles to that one reason, but as i have come to realise over the last few weeks, things are seldom what they seem. so, no matter how mant times my mom tells me that its all because i was a lazy bum, its more than that. its simple, why do only my molars tend to rot when the canines and incisors are all right, when they have all received the same treatment? its a basic fault in the structure, when, the milk teeth fell out and newer teeth grew in its place, they tended to grow at odd angles, leaving odd crevices in between them. its kind of like two rocks jutting at angle, allowing moss and grass to grow in between which the inclement weather cannot touch. same way, the bristles of the toothbrush could never reach these crevices, leading to deposition of food particles and the rest, as they say, is a very painful history. proper medical advice in time, to take out a tooth here and there would have prevented this state of affairs.

i haven't really slept in the last two nights and even as i write, my jaw keeps throbbing on and on. saturday morning i reached the hospital and told surgeon lt cdr jacob how bad the pain was the night before. he. as is his wont, tried to take out the temporary filling he had made a couple of weeks back and get to the root of the problem. that, however, wasn't meant to be as the sensitive tooth refused digging of any sort. so, he said, " as a last resort we will have to extract that tooth. but, for now, i am going to put you in a dosage of antibiotics and see how it goes for five days. you see, its not the root which is the problem. the bone below the root has got infected and the pus that has accumulated there is what is causing you the pain." i thought with the painkillers the situation would be a lot more bearable. how wrong i was! it pained me like a drill was being driven through my brain all night and no amount of painkillers could do anything. so, here i am now, trying to tell myself that i should wait for another night and wait for jacob to get back to office because if i go today, another doctor who does not have much of an idea about my case would be trying to take care of the situation. well thats about it for now. see you until next time.

BETA SHAADI KAR LE

yup! those dreaded few words! they havent been uttered by my parents as yet, but the rest of my relations have already started pratting that line with unnerving consistency and sincerity. its as if i was the last man standing on earth and the future of the human race depended on my capability to procreate, the moot point being that i am wasting precious sperm everyday and it wouldnt be long before my suppy ran out and then the human race would be doomed forever. when confronted with situations like these i feel quite helpless, as i am the sort of person who refuses to grow up. as you may have well derived from the name of my blog that a trait of juvenile bonhomie threads all my thoughts. its this childishness that i strive to protect and nurture and it is this childishness that is under threat from certain quarters. after all, my last girlfriend dumped me quite ceremoniously just a month prior to our marriage just because i refused to grow up, or something to that effect.

even as i look at all the girls who were with me in school i am hit with a metaphorical hard and blunt hammer. almost all of them are married and settled. a few of them even have kids. i mean, come on, i am only 25 for god's sake and is this the time to be changing the nappies of two bawling kids? i mean, isn't youth the best phase of one's life and isn't it supposed to be enjoyed while it lasts? i certainly feel it is, more so after i was rescued fom te brink of marriage by Fate. that incident opened my eyes to the dangers of what i had recklessly tried to commit and i realised that life is too precious to waste away tied down by the fetters of marriage. that is all for when my bones grow weak and my flesh goes soft. its for the time when my hair turns white and my teeth fall off, not now, not when i am enjoying myself so much.

this also brings me to write some words about annie, that huge and jolly woman i love so much and who has been the constant source of mirth and happiness to all who have known her. she is a sort of a human sledgehammer. she knows no reason and simply does things because they are there to be done. she is the human equivalent of the fountain of infinite joy. she was my class mate and one of the most amazing women i have ever known. she had no inhibitions like the rest of the girls did, spoke to us guys in our own language and could kick harder than any of us could. she had the constitution of a pit bull and the joie de vivre of a thrush. i have always bonded best with women who do not keep hidden agendas at the back of their minds, that is to say they are more akin to men than women. if she liked something she was always the first to say it, and vice versa. she was huge and a walking tub of fat. that made her the butt of constant jibes and comments from the rest of the guys. she was not in the least put off by it, choosing instead to crack more jokes at her own expense than we could, thereby taking the sting out of the whole joke.

she had lost her father quite early in her life due to the continuos political battles that have ravaged bengal since 1970s. being raised by a mother who had to devote more time to nursing sick men than her own child added two dimensions to her character. she became independant and at the same time didnt grow the ususal inhibitions that a woman in our society is supposed to grow. she was fairly brainy and did pretty decently in her exams. she was a good painter though and occassionally used to bring snatches of her work to class. after finishing school when all of us were trying to get admission in some engineering college or the other, she did the same. she gave up an opportunity to study english at st xavier's college and chose to study electrical engineering at some obscure corner of bengal. like i have already mentioned, she didn't follow the usual stereotype of a woman. it was there she met her future husband. true to her sledgehammer nature she lost no time in getting married to the very tall and handsome young man. the next three years were marked by the birth of two cute kids, the first a boy and the second a girl, interspersed by a miscarriage. when i went home this december, she had just given birth to her second child, a daughter. i was not just moved, but dumbstruck at how happy she was in life, defying all my expectations.

even at a time when i am still thinking of enjoying my life going to discos, pubs and roaming around, she has settled down to family life. even when i am pondering as to where to invest my money, she has already invested in two most beautiful kids. in her, i salute all the spirited women whom i have encountered in my life.

let the whole world cry

its the dead of the night and the stars have dozed off  to sleep
only a few stray vigilantes remain awake,
like long lost souls with nothing else to do
they keep me company in mute cremony.

they are the ones who know all and see all
messengers of a formidable force, time
they see all the drama that unfolds under the night sky
and whisper their tales to the prostate, sleepy roads.

the trees are lonely like doomed boats out at sea
they lie in the midst of multitude, yet, alone forever
when the night is deep and dark as the bottom of my heart
when no light but the fire in my eyes and mirth of the stars shine
when even angels fear to tread, they call out in pitiful murmur
whispering their painful stories to the treacherous wind
who shall carry their sad stories to far and wide lands.

very far, across the roaring waves, a lonely oarsman struggles
Neptune himself shall not thwart him today for his love awaits
yet, cruel is the game destiny plays, for its Medusa that awaits
in the garb of Venus she beckons the poor man closer
until he shall have a heart as cold as she and never love again
let no bards sing nor flutes play for pain awaits us all that love
the treacherous wind, the roaring sea and the black sky can cry
for i shall not, never again,.

LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE

so many times i have heard of this statement, yet, never has this realisation hit me so forcefully before this evening. she came like a gust of fresh air and blew my mind open, well and truly. yes, she was so unpretentious that i am actually repentant about all my posts mocking women till now.well, it just goes to show that not all women are the same and some are just as good as some men are bad. she had no make up on, yet, a few days ago she was sashaying down the ramp in a chic gown, looking memorably glamorous, and generating appreciativelooks from all present during the navy queen ball. she was dressed in a simple shirt, blue jeans, and white sneakers, and seemd all the more pretty in them. she did have a ring and two beautiful steel bangles on her right wrist. the paucity of ornaments seemed to accentuate her feminity, and she looked simply radiant. her face wasnt painted, yet ,her cheeks looked like they had just been brushed with a pink blusher. there was just the faintest touch of pink paint on her lips and her hair was pulled back in an untidy knot. the only other thing that was feminine about her was the pink nail polish she had on. although they were bright, they werent glaring and it was easily evident that she had a fine sense of balance while dressing, choosing easy and accessible and combining it with just the right amount of feminine touch.

she has a mole right above her upper lip, something that makes her look a little bit more like the girl next door. but the best thing about her are her eyes. they are large, liquid and expressive. she can speak volumes through her eyes and it was just that which made it all the more interestin to watch her. she had the cutest expressions, the cute twist of her mouth, the wrinkling of the nose, the rolling of the eyes, the easy laughter and everything else which made it more fascinating to watch her. even as i dared to ask her,"why don't you become an actor?" she just changed the topic. clearly she loved her job too much and wasnt harbouring any dreams of making it as an actor. yet, i sensed some reticence is the way she refused to talk about becoming an actor and i guess somewhere she must also have stumbled on some roadblock. she says that she presently works as the head designer of zod! shirts and at 23 yrs of age that is a phenomenal performance to say the least. she loves her job so much that she works 18x7 and that is saying something in a world where almost 9 out of 10 people are unhappy with their jobs. i guess she is just one of those women who will remain happy no matter wher they are.

awesome link

http://www.flickr.com/photos/kuntalpaul.... link to grt pics of poush mela, bakreshwar, shantiniketan and the rest of birbhum.... hats off to kuntal paul... some great pics... refer to it guys

ONE NIGHT @ BAKRESHWAR

there have been so many times that i have wondered as to why i do not give up this rat race and go settle down to do something infinitely more peaceful, more meaningful and fulfilling, like working for the underprivileged children in the mountains or the remote villages of bengal. i guess thats just wishful thinking on my part because no matter how hard i try to fool myself, i am realist enough to understand that this rat race is all i know, its what i have been brought up to run and i will run no matter how much i dislike it. i would probably be lost among the men of the places where i yearn to be for its easier to be cunning than honest. anyways the one night i spent at bakreshwar highlighted two issues to me as clear as daylight. the first was the lack of actual government funding for the inner sanctums of bengal, leading to poverty, unemployment and crime. there were men standing in groups of 10-15 at corners just to ensure that cars were parked. if that many number of healthy men have no job other than parking a few cars over the period of the day, no wonder then there is an exodus of people towards the cities. if the bengal government chooses to ignore that fact then it does so at its own peril. bihar is a shining example of what good governance can do to a state. in the past 4 years it has become the beacon of hope that we have all beeen waiting for. it has a staggering growth rate of 11.03% in stark comparision to the rest of the country growing at 7.49%, and is second only to gujarat at 11.05%. if a state that has been languishing in apathy for so many years due to the negligence of its own sons can show such exceptional turn around in a matter of 4 years imagine what can be achieved over a much longer period through similar dedication.

its time we stopped shifting the blame and decided to own some responsibility at least.the states shift the blame to the centre and the centre to the states, the bureaucracy shifts the blame on the politica and the politica shift it on the bureaucracy. police look to armed forces to do their jobs and we all look to just earn a fat paycheck, and climb higher in that social circle. the economy has done wonders to our country. it has made a few businessmen the fattest cows in the country. almost all deals are made keeping their interests first. the middle class has really come of age and have a good life as of today and a chance to get into the next rung. its the poor however who are the real losers as little is ever done to assuage their needs. in bengal we have a saying, "tela mathay tel dewa". it means that everyone loves to oil the already oiled heads. however, enough of this cynicism. i cant help but think that at the end of the tunnel there has to be light, the people will realise in due time all the mistakes that are being committed. the dsamage to the climate will become more important than a few cash cows, the good of the masses will hold precedence over the best interests of the ambanis, and the people will see to it that no child goes hungry to bed and grows up illiterate.

bakreshwar as a place is really peaceful. like i mentioned in my last blog, it was the best of places where the bungalow was situated. when i climbed on the terrace, the view all around was breathtaking. there was no human habitation to be seen for most parts, only a few huts dotted the lanscape here and there. there was no noise, no pollution, no loud music and the air was like wine.i sad enchanted on the terrace until it got really dark. the greenery all around slowly dissolved as the sun went down and there was unmitigated darkness all around. however, a new sort of magic was already coming into play. you just had to look at the heavens and you would know why man in his primitive times looked to the heavens for all his answers. the night sky which under the brilliant lights of the mumbai skyline is almost non existent, foggy and uninspiring, regaled us in all its majesty in this little secluded place. the expanse was awe-inspiring to say the least and it seemed that infinite was just nothing until you witnessed this beauty. it was dotted with glittering stars which some ethereal seamstress had sewn on. it was like watching the grandest extravaganza of sorts and it took my breath away. my dad pointed out all the important stars and the constellations to me and i felt myself being transported back in my memories. when i was just a kid, our house was in a developing township called kalyani. it had hardly 3-4 houses as far as the eye could see and we used to take a farm cot out on the road and lie down to watch the night sky. dad used to identify all the important stars and constellations for me as i would lie, my head on my moms soft belly. it was like the years had been swept away with a casual flick of a magicians wand and i was till that kid watching that magnanimous night sky.

the coconut and date groves fanned a cold biting wind which seemed to suit the mood just right. small teemimg lights here and there on the horizon seemed bewitching and it felt like we had all been transported to some other age, some other world. we went out later in the night to have a look at the local market. i must mention here that my mom got some great deals in leather, wooden and other handicrafts, plus, we also had some pickle and decided to buy some more. when we came back we found out that my adventurous brother had cooked up a hare brained scheme. he wanted to roast a whole chicken over the fire and then have it. turned out that it wasnt that bad an idea. we got a rooster, some spices, cooking oil, an iron rod, leaves to burn and later that night we were sitting in front of a fire and having chapattis with chicken and potatoes and brinjal. it was just the sort of thing we should have had in such a place and the night was rendered more romantic by the appeal of the burnt chicken.

the next morning we had a bath in the hot water springs of bakreshwar. the water was hot and really served to unlock the joints which seemed to have frozen in the cold. even as we sat there with our necks immmersed in the hot water, there was a feeling of achievement. right after our bath we packed our things and set off for shantiniketan. there was to be only one stop on our way and it wa to be tantipara. the place where all the weavers of that area worked. they produce what is famous as bengal tashar silk, and yet, once again. what struck me was the abject poverty of these skilled workers. skilled workforce all over the world are supposed to be paid their weight in gold, but not here. they produce clothes of such exquisite beauty yet, they hardly earn much benefits. every single house had a loom, and they were all sitting and patiently working away at those looms. we bought quite a few of their handiwork from the village. at around 3 in the aftrenoon we reached shantiniketan. more on the shantiniketan story tomorrow.

as i was writing about the hot water springs, i remembered something quirky about women. although there was a sign there that said no women allowed, quite a few cam down to the men's side. besides, there were quite a few unanbashed women roaming on the side walk next to the men's side. now what does this tell you? the women had obviously come to dry their sons or watch that they dont dron in that 3 feet deep water. but no matter what the excuse is, would a man be let off if he wandered into the women's side? does this not stink of dual principles in the society? women have more shame than men, so dont watch them take a bath, yet they are shameless enough to enter the men's side? i have seen the same thing happen in aquatica in kolkata. the women and girls entered the men's changing rooms as if it were a free for all walkway. now for a pervert like me its welcome news that they wanna watch us. but arent there any self righteous men, who feel embarrassed? or are we all equally shameless?

FINALLY BAKRESHWAR

i have heard of the hot water springs of bakreshwar since my chilhood. my mom always wanted to take me there on a trip. yet, somehow we never manged to visit the place. turns out that it was a good thing too as this time it was an unforgettable experience, the kind you get to read in books and dream of experiencing someday. even as this world is getting steadily mechanised, men are searching for new avenues to reach the solitude that lies in their hearts. the only places where that is still possible seems to be some remote corner of the earth, far away from the maddening crowd and the incessant hum of civilisation. i had no idea that bakreshwar had such a treat in store for me. the place has made me realise, in a whole new way, how beautiful rural bengal is. God bless the people and and the land.

since the decision to visit bakreshwar was only a last minute decision, there wasnt much chance to get any official accommodation. but me, i'm not one to give up so easily. i visited the SDO's office and got the number of the local PWD accommodation officer of Birbhum district from the SDO. bakreshwar and shantiniketan happen to be a part of the birbhum district. although the ploitical fault lines have appeared quite close to birbhum they havent penetrated the district as yet. the naxal menace isnt as apparent in birbhum as it is in neighbouring purulia. pulak babu, the accommodation officer was indeed a gracious gentleman who went out of his way to get me the inspection bungalow. we decided to travel from bakreshwar to shantiniketan daily. the only fallacy in my planning was that i had taken into account the distance from bakreshwar to shantiniketan, but not the standard of the village roads. what i had planned to be a hardly 1 hr long drive turned out to be a marathon 3 hr drive. travelling to and fro from bakreshwar to shantiniketan was impossible.

even as our car approached shantiniketan, the foliage started to get denser and the forest came steadily closer. temperature dropped and suddenly the cold wind had started to bare its fangs. the entry into shantiniketan was a rather tedious process encumbered by numerous police posts placed to ensure that no vehicle without the required clearance was allowed to enter. thanks however to my defence card, the car managed to unentangle itself from this complex mess and we crossed the shyambati canal and discovered my brother who was already in shantiniketan with his friends. once he was onboard we started off for bakreshwar. the road leading towards siuri from shantiniketan is more heavenly than my words can explain. the open roads, the red soil, the greenery all around, the barren slopes, rocky banks, gurgling streams, crystal clear ponds with white angel-like swans floating around, the clean air was like wine to the tired soul. it was all too much for my mumbai-starved heart and i kept jumping up in glee everytime something like a mustard field or a shady grove came across. the car sped along at too fast a speed i felt, too little time to drink in all this splendour. evry now and then we came across a bullock cart making its way slowly through the broken roads, or an impoverished village with mud huts.

today when we see a village we wonder how much improvement has actually taken place and proof that the government is actually at work. true and, yet, saddening. the development in the cities isn't the work of corporate houses alone. its the government that plans, builds roads, transport, public facilities etc. yet, whenever we talk of amenities, the first thing that comes to our minds are the private ones and how good they are. the government cant charge as much as they do and carry out the unscrupulous tactics that they employ because it has to act like the responsible parent. yet, compared to the rate of development in the cities, the development in the villages has been peanuts. its not just the government's fault. equal blame is to be shared by us. when a son grows up and is capable of standing on his own feet he is expected to share the family's burden. then why should the same principles not be applied to our society? we as a society have actually grown up, at least in the cities. although there isn't any end to our demands, we can still say that we have sufficient. yet, no one takes the time out to go and help out in the villages in whatever way we can. why hasn't the concept of gap-year, gap-month, gap-week taken root in our society? is it because we are too selfish to notice our brother's agony? i like to believe that it's actually because we are still in our teenage and we need some more time to learn what our responsibilities are. lets hope we start sooner than later.

the accommodation in bakreshwar was better than what i had anticipated. admitted, there was no geyser, no great furnishing in the rooms. yet, the bungalow was located in the most picturesque place possible. alone, away from the rest of humanity and traffic. only empty fields and greenery as far as the eye could see. we had the most fabulous time in this isolated bungalow. but more on that in my next blog. i had mentioned in my last blog one quirky fact about women. i read in today's paper that women feel worse after having an emotional transgression and not so bad after sexual infidelity. with men its the other way around. any takers on why this is?

yesterday, was new year's eve, and i wish all of you a happy new year. a certain lady i know, happened to have a serious leg injury the last month,. yet, she went partying wearing her high heels. but if you tell them that they are all about their looks and very little else, they will give withering stares and cold shoulders. mrs v, a certain woman i know has been complaining to me for the whole of last week that her husband isn't responding to her emotinal tactics as well as he used to. she claims the cold war has become that much more difficult ever since her husband has started to pick up the rules of the game. in her opinion her husband would have relented in a day or two at max in the good old days. so, she feels she has to take it to new heights considering her status as the WOMAN OF THE HOUSE. she feels she has to either fall seriously ill or go shop for a huge amount or maybe go for a party and not take her husband with her. which one do you think would be the best possible idea?