Thursday 4 February 2010

some pictures gone wrong

These blurred pictures were supposed to look clearer but they turned out to appear the way they are.

The second picture had me in a daze as I had taken the picture from under a peepal tree. I like to believe I had captured ghosts from my lens but believers of science have contradictictory views.








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Sunday 24 January 2010

Calling names

A little girl in a smart cotton frock walked into the Principal's office. It was 11.00a.m. and the parents sat outside waiting for the child to emerge. After a good 15 minutes the child came out smiling with a chocolate in hand. "Conratulations, " said the clerk there, "Your child has got admission into school". But what did they ask you? asked the over eager parents. She asked" what is your name? i said my name and then she asked my Father's name and i said Mr AK Mukherjee". Then? was the blank expression on the parents faces. The mother was evidently glowing as her daughters answers were exactly what had been taught to her. "She also asked My mothers name", said teh little girl as she gobbled the chocolate in her hand, "and what did you say", the mother almost cried because she had forgotten to teach the daughter her mothers name. "I said My mothers name is Shuncho Mukherjee", the girl replied casually. The parents looked at each other, amused at the casualness of the statement and then both of them burst out laughing. The child did not understand what made her parents so happy.


This is just a small example of what a womans name is reduced to after she becomes a mother. It's surprising the child did not call her by any other name. It's simply because she had never heard her mothers name being said anywhere. She had used her intelligence and recalled her dad using the term 'Shuncho' every time he addressed her mother.


I too, had grown up thinking my mother's name was 'Sunti ho'. I remember wondering what kind of parents would call their daughter by such a weird name. It was one afternoon at my grandparents place that I discovered that my mom had a beautiful name nd that 'sunti ho' was just a term used by my dad to address her. Sunti ho, btw, means are you listening? and my moms hearing abilities were far too superior, considering the expertise with which she knew where we were in the house without moving out of her room.


This is a phenomenon that's so common in the whole country. A woman in India is reduced to being called a 'bahu, bhabhi ji, aunty ji, chachi ji, mami ji etc after marriage. The arrival of a baby into her life endorses her Aunty ji image for life. The name her parents had given her is a thing of the distant past and any reference to the name is bound to well tears into her eyes. Things have changed for the better and now girls like to be referred to by their first name, whether they are working women or home makers and not as some Mrs so and so. They retain their maiden surnames too in some cases.


But! weren't just women supposed to abstain from taking their husbands names! What was this then? role reversal or what!! Over the years I realised that women across the country in most Hindu families underwent such risky branding of their names. If you're in Punjab and happen to walk down a sarson ka khet, you are bound to meet a 'simpu di mummy'. Punjab is one place that's very gender centric and relates to father with the male child and mother with the female child. Eg: Buntoo de pappa te Nippy di mummy!! Move down to Haryana and the wife become the 'gharaali'. No man dares takes his wife's name. It's always, 'mharo gharaali versus thaaro gharaali'. Outsiders just avoid them. Come down south and 'terms change to 'yeevandi' or an amma at the end of their first child's name. Chinni's mother becomes chinnamma, missa's mother would be termed missamma and so on and so forth.


Whoever said Men in India do not respect women!! If respect meant not addressing a husband by his name then women have been doing their job well and so have the men.
Ask an Indian army jawan about how things are at home, on his return from leave and his reply could be,"Phamily agley maheene ke 8 taarikh ko bachcha paida karne ke liye taiyar hai shreeman!" and a sharp salute follows. The officer who must've asked the question is bound to put up a brave front and avoid any show of amusement. His laughter is ofcourse vented out once evening dawns and patiala pegs go down his throat.

I personally have no problem whatsoever with what someone calls his/her spouse.
The 'a ji', 'suniye ji' brigade is almost extinct now and names are here to stay. The Feminist movement to get women equal rights with men has come of age too. Women call men by their names and men call them by their names too. But! wasn't that what was happening earlier too. Anyways. While I'm sitting here trying to figure out this grave issue, I can hear someone shouting out for a cup of tea. It's my 'woh', and now, I must go..

Sunday 17 January 2010

Jyoti Basu - the light that would never fade

A man whose name was synonymous to Bengal and Communism had finished his work here on this planet and it was time for him to bow out. Yes, Jyoti Basu passed away after struggling for 17 days. The 95 year old Communist King was laid to rest in peace. In 2000, after having lead the state of West Bengal for 23 years, Jyoti Basu had handed over the responsibilities to Budhdhadeb bhattacharya. He however remained the father figure in the communist world.

Once while we were travelling to Calcutta, I remember our journey of 4 hours being stretched to 12 hours. The train travelled at snail's pace and stopped at each station on the way. At times the chain was pulled and hordes of people entered the train. It was a sea of people who were all heading to Calcutta. They were all going to attend a rally by Jyoti Basu. I remember that train journey just too well because that was when I realised what hunger was. We hadn't carried much of food stuff as we would reach Calcutta in just 4 hours and when the train got delayed, there was nothing anyone could do. The stations where the trains stopped did not supply any eatables. I remember staring hungrily at an old man, who opened a box that contained rice and dal and chewed on the contents at a leisurely pace. I do not know whether he chewed so luxuriously to while away his time or whether his teeth had worn away, making it impossible for him to eat fast. Whatever the reason, he has been immortalised in my memory. I know I will never be able to forget the expression of contentment on his face after he had had his last handful of rice. He drank water straight out of an earthen pot that he carried and sat back and burped.


My stomach wailed and my father managed to buy some cucumbers for all of us. We were more than happy to lay our hands on em. The train reached Calcutta at 8:00 next morning and my uncle was there at the station. We were more than thankful to see him. There were red flags all around. There were cheers and slogans all around. Roads had ceased to be black topped. It just seemed that the whole world had swung into action and everyone wanted to hear what Jyoti Babu had to say. I had no clue of the difference between the words communism and communalism and turned around to ask my dad the meaning of communism.. " A form of government in which all meant to be equal", he said. I did not understand. I had more questions, but by then the elders had engaged in social pleasantries. My questions weren't answered but the man whose face was postered all over the streets of Calcutta was embedded in my mind. This man with whom i shared my first name with was a man who had taught me unknowingly that hunger has to be curbed.


That all men are born equal and they have the right exist in the world, was something I had learnt onboard the train to Calcutta. His name was heard in every political forum not only in India but also over seas. His name is etched in gold in the creation of India's social fabric. It seemed like he would live on forever, but like all other thing that are born, he had to go away too. But, He has touched too many lives and will live on forever, in memories, for time immemorial..

Tuesday 15 December 2009

The Shawshank Redemption

The Shawshank Redemption is one movie I thoroughly enjoyed the other day. Andy Dufresne, (Tim Robbins) the protagonaist, goes behind bars for a crime he hasn't committed but believes he has. A crime of not having been a good husband haunts him when he's told it was someone else who pulled the trigger.

He finds a friend and confidante in an inmate of teh prison cell called Red(Morgan Freeman) and goes on to tell him about the scam that's been created within the prison walls. His dreams and his efforts and 5 miles of unbelievable stench and shit lead him out of prison and into freedom. All that because he hoped. He hoped some day he would be a free man and live by the sea, own a hotel and a boat too. His faith in hope keeps him alive and digging. Digging a tunnel in dark nights of a darker life(20 years) behind bars, spent in fulfilling selfish motives of a prison warden who ultimately faces the world with a hole in his head, gun in his hand.

'Fear can hold you prisoner, hope can set you free', is the slogan the movie proudly displays. The movie shows it beautifully. This is true in real life too. Fear is the only factor that confines a person into doing or being what he/she is. Fear of self, fear of the society, fear of losing someone or something, fear of shame, fear of grief... and when there's hope, there's effort. There's a realisation. That's when the heart i set free - to live, to be, to exist.

This flick may not have made much money at the box office but it has certainly gone on to be much watched movie in later years. Some things take time to sink in and when they do, they are there to stay. A must watch..

Wednesday 9 December 2009

Business sense

"Saab, what do u want to buy?" asked a little boy, who must have been just seven years old, as he chewed at the neem branch he held between his fingers.

"well, just hand me a small lock", replied the man, who was evidently in a hurry to catch the train. " how much?", he asked again.

"10 rupees, saab", the kid replied.

The man handed him a 100 rupee note.

"No change early in the morning saab" said the boy. "why don't you buy two more locks and i will give you back 70 rupees?"

The man refused. "Just hand me over whatever you have, I am getting late" he said agitatedly.

The kid had handed him over some change and as he walked towards the train he glanced at it. There were 90 rupees. The man turned back, a little surprised as he remembered how the boy had requested him to buy 2 more locks.

There on the shop window, sat a grinning little packet of mischief who had just begun his day with a good bargain. He had tried his hand at the business lessons he was being taught at the shop whole day. He waved at the man and all the man could do was wave back as he boarded the train..

Tuesday 1 December 2009

Fat or Fit

What's with Adnan Sami? The man has lost oodles of weight and with that has gone his better half. The Adnan we saw romancing so many young models and actresses on screen is a thing of the past. He is now replaced with a slimmer man who isn't what he used to be. I don't know him personally and surely don't know what he really was, but the happiness he exuded is now missing, and hence, I rant and rave. He now looks sickly and his songs aren't half as good as they used to be. Weight loss does come with a price tag. He lost all the excess fat and in the process, became a stranger to all the people who loved him and enjoyed anything he sang. The songs bubbled with life and energy. It's gone now.


We come across fat people almost every day of our lives and after a certain age one doesn't have to travel very far to see an obese person. One can do so by looking at the mirror. Some people are meticulous enough to maintain a perfect physique, others are too lazy to spare themselves some time precious moments of excercising. I happen to be at crossroads of the weight bridge. That it would be a struggle so severe, was incomprehensible a thought for me and yet ech day I stare at the stranger who stares back at me.


I asked a friend for some tips to maintain an envious physique as hers, and the reply was "fall in love dear".. Well, now that's a pretty expensive and time taking, tedious clause. Unless it's the gym instructor you're attracted to!! Needless to say, I haven't taken this advice too seriously. I tried yoga, but the enthusiasm fizzled out as fast as it had surged. The timings were to blame. Early mornings was when the yoga classes were conducted and Sleep did not permit me to creep out of the cozy bed. The early morning newspaper reading was going to come to my rescue, and I noticed an Ad. It was of a weight reduction centre. I was up and ready to reach the centre. At the place I was made to dish out a hefty sum for a few tricks that would help me get a chiselled bod. To add to it was the sight of some faces that were aghast to see me there. It was hilarious but something from within me told me we were all sailing in the same boat. I cut short the smile that had just begun to form..


I gave up all of these eccentricities and settled for the more sober form of keeping fit. Yes, walking. Walks are convenient and I make it a point to walk in the evenings, albeit for a small stretch. A few excercises and I feel fit. I make it a point to watch all stand up comedies (the slapstick ones as well). Isn't that what i was searching for after all.. A few doses of energy mixed with fitness and a scoop of laughs with a pinch of happiness here and there - The ingredients for a perfect body and perfect mind. Being a little over weight is after all not really a big issue..

Sunday 22 November 2009

greys of all shades




Thursday 12 November 2009

When Fate came calling

I tried,
all my life and ran
to keep up pace,
with an ever changing world
of expectations.

I stopped,
tired.
broken.
charred,
with ashes
from the remains,
of wishes unfulfilled,
of dreams turned down,
of ambitions floundered..

And then,
when all doors
caved inwards,
choking life's existence,
came a knock at the door.
I opened to see,
there,
stood my destiny.

The sun shone brighter,
The day seemed right,
All's well with the world,
Fate has finally smiled..

Thursday 5 November 2009

Talk of coincidence

Mundane things in life have a course of their own. Time meanders at a leisurely pace and one gets used to everything around. I happened to be in a phase that circled around the corridors of the place I live in. Since I had too much on my mind, I decided to get some outside help to help me out in getting the daily chores done. So, a desperate search led to some people who were suitable for the job. I finally zeroed in on one lady who seemed to fit into the family stream..


The employee who had been painstakingly handpicked began wWork began and one day I thought of giving in to her daily dose of gossip. Apart from knowledge of Mrs A, Mrs S, and Mrs B I was told that she lived near Lakshmi Narayan temple. Her expressions clearly said that she liked the amused look on my face. She, like an intelligent player, took advantage of the situation and on the next day turned up at the house only at noon. It irritated me no ends to see her arriving so late. The harrowed look on her face wasn't going to save her either.

"I got late at the other house," she complained, without looking at my face.

'Where is this other house?" i roared.

"Its near Lakshmi Narayan temple," came the answer.

My patience was ebbing but I prefered to abstain from any words that would cost me the daily help. Come Sunday, and the lady landed at my doorstep clad in a starched cotton sari and kumkum spread over the margin that parted her hair neatly. Her hair was oiled and combed in tiny straight lines that wouldn't budge even if it hit a storm. Tagging behind her was a little girl.

"Who is this?" i asked her.

"My daughter," came the reply. I couldn't stop myself from pulling the little girls cheeks.

"Where do u study little one'" i asked.

"Govt school," she replied with a cute, dimpled smile.

"And where is this School" i quizzed again.

"Near Lakshmi Narayan temple," the little girl replied to my amazement.


That evening I made up my mind to dig out this temple. I walked down the road, in search of the Lakshmi Narayan temple. I had to ask the passers by about where the temple was and after a lot of twists and turns I managed to reach the dusty street where stood the temple. The temple, that was the lifeline of the lady who was becoming more of a habit was but a simple looking house kind of structure with the statue of a diety in it. Habit made me close my eyes and bow down..


Things were getting easier with each passing day and then a festival dawned. Needless to say, the maid took a day off.

"Where did you go to set the boat to sail in water", I teased her.

She gave me the biggest ever grin and sheepishly said " Lakshmi Narayan temple".

It was tough to not smile back.

Height of the matter was that she informed me that her husband's name was 'Narayan', and her name!! well! You guessed it................. :-)

Thursday 29 October 2009

shopping on a Kirket day

A visit to the market was due, and when we finally reached the shop which i visit every month, I was surprised to see an empty shop. There was no one to cater to the customers. "Where is everyone?" i asked myself with a quizzical look on my face. An old man pointed towards a group of people staring at something. I held my breath and kept my fingers crossed. "Dear God! please don't let it be an accident." I treaded ahead with hopes that there had been no accident. I tore across the crowd and plunged ahead. But, before I could reach the place where lay the centre of attraction, the crowd cheered.

I leaped to find myself facing a portable TV. Dhoni had just scored a century and the crowd was ecstatic. I looked at the countless faces flushed with a glow of victory. A certain happiness which can be felt when a person himself/herself or a close family member or close friend achieves something was writ on their faces.
"Aaj India Kirket match jeet jaaega medum," cheerfully claimed a young lad in his teens. "Dhoni bhaiya ka ban gaya century" he added. By the time I could move ahead and ask him any question he was back into the shop. I followed him into the shop only to find him straight faced and businesslike in attitude.

What is it with Cricket that captivates a whole nation. Well, maybe two nations or maybe more countries. Is it just the game that fascinates all young and old or is it the surprise element attached with it that has people attracted towards it. Is it the glamour or just the money? I have too many questions on my mind and all that coz i do not really enjoy the game. I however, never miss an India Pakistan Cricket match for obvious reasons.

The late night news said India had won the match. I could see smiles around me. Half of India would have slept peacefully too, I 'm sure..