Look...before you leap

2011-12-26T22:45:00.000-08:00

Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle all the way

After many years my family went out on 24th of December. We took the metro to reach Esplanade station from where we walked to the New Market, once known as Sir Stuart Hoggs Market, which was established in 1874. The market is one of the oldest in Kolkata. Now the market has spread its wings around the old building, which shelters hundreds of shopkeepers, small and big. The place wears a completely different look especially during this season, from the Christmas to the New Year. Once upon a time the foreigners were the regular visitors of this place to buy cookies and greeting cards. The foreigners have left, leaving behind their legacy and some Anglo-Indians who still make the place lively during the last few days of the year. This year, there was a huge Christmas tree made of card board right next to the Lighthouse cinema hall (which is now a departmental store) and beside the tree was a picture of a smiling Santa. On top of the tree was the Spiderman. There was another Santa Claus standing tall near the stalls of "Kolkata Hut", a temporary attraction for the festival. There were at least 30 to 35 stalls scattered in front of the Hogg market building. Luckily, I got a chance to shop for fun. The whole place were decorated and the people around were in a mood of celebration. There were bags, purses, decorative pieces, jute bags, Kashmiri shawls, fashionable stoles and scarves; toys made of bamboo, pen stands, bed sheets and pillow covers, teracotta idols etc etc. We first stopped near the stall which had a man selling bamboo products. There were bells, key rings, jewellery box, toy trains, dolls, pencils, pencil sharpner which were made with a lot of creativity. The small little things were nicely coloured with oil-based paint which made them look very attractive. I watched as a child pulled her mother to the shop and made the latter buy one of the toys. I too bought a bright pen stand. The stall next to it was selling bed covers and cushion covers. While I was asking the prices of the handicrafts, my parents happily shopped from the next stall. Next we went to this guy who was selling leather purses with ethnic designs. I liked a cute little coin bag which I bought from that young man. My mother bought a leather purse. There were two or three stalls selling silver jewelleries. One particular shop had beautiful paintings of women's faces on cloth. We saw various kinds of Lord Ganesha painted on paper, cloth and also curved on wood. The sculpted Ganeshas were expensive as beacause their making involves hardwork and skill. Porcelain cups and plates were nicely arranged outside a stall to draw attention of the public and customers.

2011-12-22T03:45:00.000-08:00

2011-12-07T22:17:00.000-08:00

I got my study table when I was only seven. The table, which seemed to me very huge then compared to my size, occupied a very important place in my heart and in our two-room quarter. The table was placed right next to our bed. It came to our quarter without a chair. I used to sit on the dining chair which was wooden just like the table. The new table of mine was a gift and I liked to study only because of it. I used to sit facing east. A teacher used to visit our house to teach me Mathematics. The fact that he will share the table was not at all acceptable to me. Moreover, I did not like his company. He did not visit from the second week. The chair was mine. I was elated. My journey of studying on a chair and a table started since then. The year, if I remember, was 1987.

My father who had got the table also fixed an interesting table lamp on the wall facing the chair. But the light was not very comfortable for my eyes. I preferred the tube-light instead. Soon we shifted to our new quarter, a small three-room flat. The study table was placed in my room right next to my single bed. I studied facing east. But for some reason, I did not enjoy using my table then. The year was 1990-91. My bed became my temporary place for study. I got a small wooden desk which I placed on the bed as an alternative table. I could fold my legs and sit comfortably on the bed. I enjoyed sitting and studying that way because my legs used to ache when I had to sit on the chair after coming back from school. Interestingly, the small desk was named "Chanakya's table". My mother used to sit right next to me while I read loudly resting my elbows on the "Chanakya desk". There was a book shelf fixed on the wall beside my table, which had a few books always other than a pen stand. Sometimes, I used to finish my home tasks sitting on the chair and table.

When I was in Class VI, we moved to a huge flat. I got a room which was very very airy and bright because of the windows. It was a south-facing room. My table was placed near a wall and the book-shelf was again placed on top of the table. The cream-coloured shelf was stuffed with books and divided into four sections with four doors. The table then faced to the west. The glass windows which were on my left hand side often took my eyes from the pages of the book to outside which was indeed very beautiful. I used to look outside for a while and enjoyed the beauty of the nature. That was a break for me while studying. My bed was then a little away from my table and chair. As far as my memory goes, between the year 1993 and 1997, the table was mainly used as a book shelf. I used to sit on a chair and a centre table laminated with yellow sunmica. My tutors used to sit on a chair and I occupied the chair facing him across the table. The study table became my regular companion between 1998 and 2002. I got a lovely new chair which made the seat all the more comfortable. The books were organised on my table in separate groups. There was this old pen-stand, a table calendar, a mini table clock and a photo of Vivekananda which we had bought from the Calcutta book fair.

In between, the table had changed its position and it was placed near the wall next to the second door of my room. The door that was on my left remained half-closed and door on the right of my study table remained fully closed. But the windows on top of the doors were always kept open. There was a poster on the left door which if I remember was a ship sailing against a storm. I used to face north while studying. There was the Srimadbhagavat Gita on my table for a while. The year was 1999-2000. I was in 1st year college.

2001. My table, chair and our family found a new shelter. Our new address was a bungalow. My study was on the first floor. Initially the table was placed right next to the south facing wall. But later, I pulled it to the centre of the room, right beneath the fan. I used to study facing east. There was a huge poster of a Cross on the wall facing my table. I left home to study in a different state and the table stayed with my parents. I found it right next to my parents' bed when I used to visit home during holidays. By then, a new computer was placed on my table. The year was 2004.

I came back to my city. My address had changed again. A desktop was placed on a new computer table and a stereo system was kept on my study table.

2011-12-04T21:42:00.000-08:00

Khwab ho tum ya koyii haqiqat,
Kaun ho tum batlayo, /hoooo/
der se kitne dur khari hon,
Aur kareeb aa jayo...

Devanand was a craze once upon a time not only among the women of India but also among the men folk. The actor who died yesterday, was a somewhat look-alike of Hollywood gentleman star Mr Gregory Peck. Devanandji probably followed his style of acting. A style icon Devanand was once the heart-beat of the Hindi film industry or Bollywood. Unfortunately, the actor is no more. His tin-tin like hair lock like an inverted comma with his stylish head bent on a side and a scarf tied on his neck was so typical of him. He was the face for the voice of Kishore Kumar Ganguly. Devanand was incomplete on screen without Kishoreda. The actor's death reminds me of some great Hindi sound tracks...Gata rahe mera dil (my heart sings on...), Churi nehi mera dil hain (my bangles are my heart), Aj phir jine ki tamanna hain (I wish to live once again), and Dum Maro Dum, mit jaye hum, bolo subha sham, Hare Krishna, Hare Ram....

I have heard from people that he was the reason behind the birth of many Bollywood stars. He could spot the talent from the crowd of a billion. He was the actor who gave the film industry some biggest hits like the "Jewel Thief", the "Guide", "Teen Deviyaan" and many many more. Devanandji began his career with Black and White movies and the world saw him in colour too. An era ends with the death of Mr Devanand, the evergreen actor.

2011-11-28T23:15:00.001-08:00

Exactly three years ago this photo was taken by my father during the festival of Durga Puja.

2011-11-28T23:05:00.000-08:00

2011-11-26T08:35:00.000-08:00

Flowers are one of the most beautiful creations of God. Some smell good, some others are known for their colours while a few have both. Some grow in our gardens and the wild ones prefer to grow in the forest. Roses, tube roses, merrigold, jasmine are some flowers that are commonly available in the local market. While a rose beautifies a room, a tube-rose garland adorns an idol in the temple; a merrigold is offered to our God at home and a jasmine garland tucked in a woman's hair makes a morning refreshing. A Jaba or a Hibiscus blooms in almost every garden in Bengal. This particular flower which I am talking here comes in different colours like bright red, deep yellow, soft pink and white which is so very rare. There are a wide variety of flowers which have no English names because they are found only in the villages of Bengal. A few of these are offered to Lord Shiva. Flowers which have long stems like Gladiolus and Roses are always kept in a bucket of water in a flower shop. The merrigold garlands are always kept separately from the other flowers by the florist. Violet Orchids which are like creepers are available in a local shop for the last 2 years. The flower-seller says this orchid is a rare variety. A flower which is soft in texture and has rich colourful petals is Bouganvelia which not only grows in a garden but also in an earthen pot. A Tagor is a small flower which has delicate white petals and a thin stem. The fragrance of a Gandharaj is mesmerising. There is a very very different kind of a flower which cannot be plucked easily from the tree. It's known as Kadamba or popularly called a Kadam. This flower is like a spongish orange-shaped ball which has 3-inch-long needle like petals covering it all over. It is said that Lord Krishna loved the smell of Kadamba and he used to sit on the branch of that tree during Jhulan festival in West Bengal.

2011-11-21T07:10:00.000-08:00

Once November arrives, the smell of nature changes. It is not only the second last month of the English calender but a month that takes a long time to pass by leaving behind a memory of a year fresh in mind. As the pain of getting older pricks inside, the only incentive that keeps the heart going is a bright December. The month which is so special specially for Christians. December is special for me because I celebrate my birthday and my parent's marriage anniversary. Needless to say I remember Lord Jesus too in this month from the 1st to the 25th. Somehow I feel sad on December 25. I can't explain why. Once I had been to a church on the 24th night, but I had to stand outside because of the crowd. But then December 25, the year if I remember, 1994 it was, was very cold. My father, my mother and I couldn't stand in that cold for too long. The fear was I might catch cold and then fall terribly ill. The December then and now is very different. Christmas in Calcutta during the 1990s used to be a big celebration. I hardly go out these days, so I really do not know if that is the same in Kolkata now. At least my Christian friends in Bangalore made me a lil Christian in thought:) Things have changed a lot over the years. Coming back to special December, the last few days are a big wait for the 31st. A day which was a frolic 10 years ago. Now, I wait to spend the day with my family.

2011-05-20T23:40:00.000-07:00

Each and every single day is a story.

It’s a story when we wake up early, why we wake up early and what happens when the day starts early. What we do when we wake up early. How different is the day. How is the weather? Do the birds sing? Does the wind blow? How is the mood? Are you feeling happy or you are feeling jittery? Why exactly you are feeling happy or low? Are you thinking or you don’t have time to think. Look around. What is your family doing? Do they talk to you or they are busy with themselves. Or the daily routine is peaceful. If the day is not peaceful, why is it so? Hasn’t your maid come to work? Is your father’s work not going easy? Is your mother angry with something? Doesn’t she have enough stock of potatoes and onions? Why are your parents fighting over who will go to the market? Your father is very busy in the morning. Does he have more work to finish? Is he bringing work to home? Why? Is the salary enough to maintain a family of three? Maybe money is not the case. Find out the reason, if there is any. May be everything is fine. What’s on the T.V today? Do you get the time to watch serials? Do you even know the name of the actors and actresses who come on T.V. We hardly know their real names, they are more popular as Navya, Anant, Bhaskar and Ai. Do we eat lunch with your family? May be eat out because you are working. How is it to eat outside everyday? Are the restaurants clean? Do they give hygienic food? Do they wipe the floor every 15 minutes? Do you stand and eat or you have the money to sit and eat. What do you eat -- chawal, dal, roti and sabji or you get a papadam and curd too? Do you feel happy after eating a plateful of lunch? Do you inspect the glass of water before drinking or you drink water blindly. Are you doing your work everyday? Are you mature enough to deal with your boss? Do think a training would have helped? Or you are in the wrong profession. Are you thing too much at 30? Do you watch movie after work? Do you go to the PVR? Do you watch a DVD at home or PC? Is your wife present at home when you go back? Is she nice to you? If not why? She wants to eat out, you don’t want to. Call 2343-2525, home delivery. Ahh, that tasteless food! Let’s have pizza tonight. And a glass of Coca Cola.

2011-04-19T04:44:00.000-07:00

2010-12-20T08:19:00.000-08:00

Raat ke humsafar...the old Hindi song reminds me so many things. The year, 2010, is coming to an end. A new beginning, a new year, a few new resolutions which will be never fulfilled. Hope 2011 ushers something bright in every one's life. Wish you a very merry CHRISTMAS in advance.

2010-11-26T20:24:00.000-08:00

2010-11-08T05:58:00.001-08:00

2010-10-21T08:18:00.000-07:00

A very Happy Laksmi Puja.

2010-10-20T08:55:00.001-07:00

A wonder called coconut oil.

2010-07-09T04:33:00.000-07:00

2010-07-06T11:18:00.000-07:00

2010-03-16T21:47:00.000-07:00

Starmark. G block, city centre. So many times I had visited the mall, but never did I walk into the book store. Unfortunate I was. Now, I understand. The red posters of Women's Day messages like "No one can make you feel inferior without your permission" (I think I am not misquoting the quotes!) were still shining bright. They made me feel better. Ma was with me that day. Transparent doors (was it Gautier?) welcomed us. What struck me first was Gulzar, not in flesh and blood but his new book on lyrics...and the song that came to my mind..."Tere bina zindagi se koi, shikwa toh nehi..."Yes, the cover page was so apt, it was Gulzar with his patent spectacles and crisp white kurta, wah kya ada hain janab:). The next moment, the book was in my hand and I flipped through the pages. The left hand pages had the hindi lyrics and the right had English. For all Gulzar fans, the book is worth a read even if you don't have the money to buy. And needless to say, a gift for someone you love.

I took a right turn and moved ahead to a section where some more books were neatly shelved. I was surprised. All my favourites were there...short stories of O Henry, self help books, all of Paulo Coelho's, autobiographies of Diana, Nehru and many more. All those kept me standing till I stopped at "COMEBACK 2.0, Up, CLOSE AND PERSONAL, LANCE ARMSTRONG, PHOTOGRAPHS BY ELIZABETH KREUTZ"...it's true that a picture speaks thousand words. Time stopped and I pulled the wooden chair and rested myself to delve into the book. Each page had a photo with a few lines written as captions. It was Lance, Lance and Lance everywhere. My eyes moved from the left page to the right, there were colour photos and black and whites too. The not-so-appealing black and whites impressed me. They had the intensity which colours don't portray. The ride was smooth and Lance hooked me with his zeal. He reminded me of the man who spoke about him years ago. And tears rolled down my eyes. Like dew drops, they dropped on the pages leaving a soggy spot.

2009-03-18T10:47:00.000-07:00

Billu cattie

She is a mix of white and red patches. Has bright greenish eyes and a tail which is attractively bushy. That's Billu, a stray cat who became our new housing member a few months ago.

I know it's 10 in the morning when Billu meows and waits on the sunset of our neighbour's flat. Obviously, for his daily dose of bread and fish prepared by my mother. My mom, an animal lover like me, feeds her every day despite her business at that hour. She takes all the pain to fry fish in a small frying pan and mixes it well with at least two slices of bread. Initially, her staple diet was bread and leftover fish bones. But now, Billu savours special sea fish especially bought for him. Thanks to papa who, too, takes care of Billu without a word of protest.

Post breakfast, Billu takes a nap and watches the sun, looks at the sky, the birds and the flies, curiously. She gets irritated when crows bother her. She shoos them away by making a typical sound that we all are accustomed by now.

A few weeks ago, Billu became pregnant and now she is the proud mother of three. We realised only when she was missing for a few days. One fine morning, she finally appeared on the same place but looked a bit thin and was screaming at the top of her voice. And my mom knew she must delivered her babies. Moms know it well, i guess. So care doubled for Billu with food being supplied whenever she wanted. We didn't know where exactly the kittens were till they started making a noise. The babies were found in the locked second floor room of our flat. Billu had a tough time getting inside the flat because the owner had sealed the window when he came home last. We decided to get the kittens out of the room and nurse them in our caretaker's room. So was done immediately.

I guess, Billu was not happy with the idea and began looking for her lost ones. And she growled day in and out. Stopped eating. Worried us a lot. Last night, Billu cried the whole night. And I couldn't sleep too. So I decided to help her the next day. Billu came to me when I called her by her name and showed me the way to our caretaker's room. I was busy and avoided her because I was on my way to office. The day after, she was crying again. It seemed she had something to say. And I found her sitting on the sunset. The moment she saw me, she jumped from the sunset to our corridor window and inside our flat. She showed me the way again and we followed her to our caretaker's room.

Out of her three babies, I got one she was seen playing the most. Billu waited for a few seconds. And meowed. And the kitten too answered. The mother caught her on the neck and jumped on the boundary wall and to the sunset and then inside the locked room through a open window. Billu is brave indeed. But mothers are all the same. And they know who can help her out.

For the last few days, Billu has changed. She neither sits on the sunset nor cries for her baby. She and her son walks into our flat whenever they like. She is our family.

2009-03-11T03:40:00.000-07:00

2009-03-11T03:36:00.000-07:00

2008-08-02T03:51:00.000-07:00

Finding Mr Right

Education and career kept me so busy all these years that I forgot that I was almost nearing 30. Before it's too late, I logged into one of the matrimony sites. The reason is as obvious as you know — to pin down the Mr Right for me. Let me tell you here, I have never been lucky in love. After n-number of crushes and a friendship which I misunderstood as love, I realised arranged marriage is "the" option for me. Sounds funny right? No, it isn't, but a reality, which I am getting used to every day. A friend of mine used to say, negotiation marriage is the option for those who are left with no choice. May be she was true or may be not. I am confused!
So my parents began the search. Believe you me, this matrimony sites are very interesting. Though I am a member of one, I happened to browse many others with the hope that I will bump into someone from the virtual world. But the web dunia is no less complicated. It's like visiting the Levis showroom and not knowing which one to buy. Either you don't like the shade or you you can't afford the price. So you end up buying nothing:(
Even if you happen to like one, I am talking about a guy not the jeans, then begins the process of matching horoscope, height, weight and complexion. I won't lie here, I happened to like one of these guys but the fella is nowhere in the picture and his mom is doing the needful Trust me, the mother does know what his son's needs are. Can't imagine what will happen after the marriage, if pre-nuptial procedures are such rigorous. Some families are so uncourteous that after receiving the photograph they don't respond. They don't know even if they like me, I am going to say no.
I don't know whether to laugh at them or on myself. But that's life, without Mr Right.

2008-06-25T08:48:00.000-07:00

Men in Kolkata I thought were quite chivalrous! At least I said so proudly to my friends in Bangalore, whenever there was an argument .
I had reasons to say so. When I started travelling in Bangalore buses, I was surprised to see men sitting in ladies seats. It was no different in any route, whether it was from Koramangla to Shivajinagar in 166 or 164 or from Chamrajapet to Kempegowda. Interestingly, women too had no qualms either on their way to office, school in the morning or coming back home. They happily chatted with their friends while the men dozed off while sitting. At times, I used to feel disgusted at their behaviour. If I had protested, very rarely though, they shot back in Kannada which was initially worse than Hebrew to me. But I felt proud thinking men in Calcutta were better.
But today, I have been proved wrong. I rather felt sad. I was on my way to office in a chartered bus. It was not so crowded when I boarded. But soon many hurdled inside. When the bus reached Beleghata, a lady embarked in the bus clutching her baby and trying hard to balance herself. It was evident she was unable to stand and looked helpless. But no one noticed. She came right in front of me. Next to me and around were many so-called bhadroloks who stayed put where they were and feigned not to have seen her.
I looked at her and asked her to seat. She breathed a sigh of relief. I felt good too. But wondered why at all I felt annoyed with the men in Bangalore buses.

2008-06-07T04:13:00.000-07:00

Marriage ceremonies hardly evoked interest in me a few years ago. Rather, I missed many of them since childhood. The reasons being one too many.

But now things are different. Whether it's the wedding of my friend or my father's colleague's daughter's, I am keen to attend them. The incentive in these parties is the opportunity to meet old friends and acquaintances.

A few days ago, I was at one of those ceremonies. My father's friend's daughter got married. Coincidentally or luckily, it was a Friday, my weekly day off. Though it was not closeby, but we drove down to South Kolkata from the North, where we stay. All these to meet the known ones whom I had lost touch in five years while I was away from the city.

It was a pleasant surprise to meet my childhood bumchum, mashis, auncles, jethus, kakus, didis and dadas. In fact, it was difficult to recognise some of them. Some greeted us with warmth while a few others with a light grin. But it was fun to be with the known ones after so many years.

It was indeed a great feeling to meet my childhood pal in the party. Draped in a saree, she looked gorgeous. And soon we began our usual chitchat. We had so much to share and remembered those golden days which we had enjoyed together and which will never come back. But the biggest surprise was the news of her marriage next year. She quickly clicked on her mobile and showed her would-be hubby's pic. And then there was so much to share. But time was short and she had to leave early. She had to visit her in laws house that night.

We exchanged our phone numbers and promised to continue the never-ending stories when we meet next.

But I doubt if next time she will have time if the occasion is her marraige.

2008-06-03T04:58:00.000-07:00

Time matters, dear doctor

Indians are a typical breed wellknown for the poor sense of punctuality. It's often said that if you're late, it shows you are important. Earlier, film stars came under this category but it seems now doctors too have joined the gang.

Today, I happened to visit one of the leading hospitals in Kolkata. Not that I was keen to visit but rather forced to. Thanks to the wisdom tooth that has been disturbing me for long. As advised by my neighbour, I had called up the doctor's personal secretary on Monday. He gave me a time. 12.30 pm sharp on Wednesday. I thought I was lucky because I won't have to waste a casual leave. I was at the hospital right on time. The doctor, much to my dismay, was missing. His assistant greeted us with a smile. He asked us to fill up the registration form and complete the formalities before the doc arrives. I followed what he said. Shelled out Rs 150 for registration. All these took me another 15 minutes.

I was back to the chamber. Another paitent was also waiting and stared blankly at me. It was 1 pm by then. I was still waiting. I looked around the AC room. Posters of distorted faces of patients being cured after surgery dotted the walls. Indeed, the doctor is an expert, I murmered. It was 1.30. But the doctor was nowhere and I became a bit restless. I called up the doctor's secretary and he said the doctor will be a bit late. At 1. 45 pm, when I had already made up my mind to leave, the surgeon walked in with his secretary. Disgusted I was, but stayed back and stepped inside his room.

The doctor was late but looked absolutely normal. He looked at me and enquired about my problems. I blurted out all. He asked me to sit on a huge chair where he wanted to ckeck my tooth properly. And as started detecting, I couldnt resist myself to pour out my grouse. That he was late and he should have been a bit more responsible. He was polite and had his excuses ready. His job, he said, is different and if a patient's condition is serious, he can't leave and come. "But why then give a time at the first place?," I asked. He said, it rarely occurs like this. He is always punctual unless he gets stuck with a serious case.

I really didn't know what to say next. But, I was sure, he knows patients will anyway wait for him...time is on his side

2007-09-25T09:27:00.000-07:00

DOWNPOUR DISTRESS

Wish I had a camera! I blurted out when I tiptoed from of my
uncle's house. Wondering if it was a Kodak moment. No. It was water, water and
only water that had engulfed my locality, Dum Dum Park. I had read a lot about Kolkata floods but, this time, I had a real encounter with a similar crisis.

Sept 23 (the night before): It had started raining from 6 pm or so. Or rather it was pouring, literally. But, being in a posh media office it was impossible to fathom the severity within closed
doors. My parents, by 8 pm, had already alerted that it was getting worse outside. I did not bother much. Work got over at 9 pm when I came out for dinner. Yes, it was raining heavy. I was worried, but little. At 10 pm, I took my office vehicle, a Tata Indica, and headed straight towards my home. I was alone and warned my driver that he can't take the usual route — via Ultadanga— to the destination. But, he claimed to know better. So I abided. As it had had to happen, we got stuck near Ultadanga flyover. Situation was grim — water was almost gushing inside the vehicle. The driver, somehow, managed to careen through water in a style he
was quite adept with. We managed to cross the flyover and took the VIP Road. I peeped out of the window and saw the street lights soaked in rain water. But, it was no time to romanticise. We took left from Baguihati and drove straight. Soon, we reached close to my house and avoided all the possible streets that could have been under knee-deep water. But, luck was not in my favour and I was almost close to my home and Good God, it was water again. The vehicle was unable to move ahead. He geared and drove back to my uncles's house. I stayed back there for the night.

Sept. 24 Condition deteriorates

The day started with a bitter note when a kitten was wailing for help. The sky was grey with no signs of the rain God to give us respite. From the first floor of my cousin's house, what I saw was
not a usual scene — kids were wading through knee-deep water, rickshaws were honking to attract customers and a countable few were out on the street (probably, they had no other choice). I packed my bag and was set to go home. My uncle accompanied me. And
then, it was the reality that gave me a shock. He held three packets tight— my clothes and shoes — and I started folding my pants gradually. But, it helped little. As we marched, water was
getting deeper and I held my uncle's hand tight. It was difficult to balance and walk. Fun it was being first time thrown into such a situation. But, the thrill soon oozed out and a sense of disgust set in. But, we were not the only helpless one, a dog sitting on a brick wall joined us. Finally, I trudged back home. The ground floor of our flat was already under water. I bunked office. As it grew dark, things started getting worse. Meanwhile, power went off. We had a candlelight dinner too!

Sept 25: Stuck in waterworld

There was not of water to drink or bathe. Much to our dismay, our caretaker informed of rising water level.The municipality was hardly bothered and when asked over phone said "we are trying our best and have already sent a water tank". That was it. The CESC wasn't available and the phone line was perpetually busy. On top of that, our mobiles were showing signal errors. Stranded we were and remained so for the day.

Sept 26. Sun God smiled

On day 3, water did not recede. But, thank God! power came. I rushed to the terrace and what I saw was scary. Everything was floating. It was difficult to make out where the pond nearby has merged with the road and drains. It was a mess! Women and children were leaving in rickshaws in search of a safe shelter. The sight was worth shooting — an experience worth remembering for life...

2007-08-28T08:45:00.000-07:00

statutory warning: All characters in the story are fictitious.

There are days when, in spite of all around, I can feel a void. Yes, I miss you. As always. You keep coming in my thoughts. But, I hate to call them memories. I fear you will become my past. Wish the fear never turns into a reality...

Wondering what these lines mean? Sounds like some love-sick moron’s narration. But it is not. It's difficult to shrugg off things easily. Dont' know when did the feeling sank into my system.

February 16, 2005. The Valentine's Day fever had just got over. But, the hangover was still in the air. Not that I am one ardent believer of these special days. But, at times, it's really difficult to overlook the importance of these days. Anyway, that particular day I got a mail in one of the social networking sites.
Hesitatingly yet curiously, I clicked on the mail and opened it to read what the stranger had to say. I had ignored many others like this. But, this one was of special interest. Wondering why? The name sounded interesting. (I am keeping it secret). That was it.

And the saga began. Soon, we exchanged personal e-mail ids. Everyday, religiously, I wrote one mail to him. I loved to hear from him and so did he (He said it once). Phonecalls were not on.
So we got to know each other. We were both students. Final year Masters. Away from home. But, he was away for a long while and I, by then, had a brief stint of staying outside. So, he was experienced — with his knowledge and encounter with the real world.

I remember writing to him from my college library computer. And then rushing to the computer lab as soon as our library time was over. With a throbbing heart I used to catch him on chat too.
I enjoyed it. Our fiendship till then.

We finished our study and we were placed. I stayed back in the same city. While he moved to
to some other. Almost after seven months, I mailed him my phone number. And a month after my snap.

It was a surprise one day — one of the sweetest surprises. I got his call and quite naturally it was difficult to make out it was him. I was thrilled when he told him. The best part of this friendship was that he has spent a lot on phone calls. I did not have enough to spend, that was my excuse always. So, we shared every thing under the sun __ from books to music to food, et al.

Knowingly or not, can't say, I had developed a feeling for him. I won't deny. Or, rather there is nothing to deny. The dent is so deep that I had to blog my feelings. Oh, what a foolish way, you must be thinking!

Yes, I told him too. As he wanted to know from the horses's mouth. I don't know if I was right. As they say "you should never feel sorry for your emotions, becoz that's as good as denying the truth".

More than two years...I am still waiting to see my friend "unseen".

2006-12-28T08:05:00.000-08:00

Flashback 2006. Let's take a look at the beauty framed by the photographers. Credit: Reuters, AP-PTI, AFP and TOI

In this file picture taken on November 09, 2006, a keeper plays with a finless porpoise, a cousin of the baiji dolphin and one of five in Wuhan Baji Aquarium. The baiji dolphin, as it has been known in China since the mammal was first mentioned in mainland records more than 2,000 years ago, is on the verge of extinction, crowded out by cargo shipping on the river, heavy pollution and illegal fishing.

(left) File picture dated 11 April 2001 shows bear Ursa with her cubs at Skansen zoo in Stockholm. Due to an unusual warm autumn, bears in Sweden went on hibernation a month later than usual.
(down) Jawans have always made India proud. A moment where they are seen before a parade.

(Down) A woman pushes a baby cart as she strolls under arched yellow leaves of ginkgo trees in Tokyo, December 03, 2006. AFP

Winter has set in Delhi. A train enters station cutting across fog that clouded the entire area.

(Down) A Kashmiri nomadic woman sits huddled together with her baby on a cold morning as they wait for a bus in Srinagar December 12, 2006.

(DOWN LEFT) A baby, accompanied by a father, reacts to an illuminated Christmas
tree in Tokyo's Odaiba bay area on Dec. 25, 2006.
(Left) A two and a half-month old female reticulated giraffe nibbles on a plant at Rome's zoo on Friday, Dec. 1, 2006.

Indian air force Suryakiran jet trainers perform
during airshow on outskirts of Siliguri.

2006-09-18T04:03:00.000-07:00

The missing link

2006, right now am in Bangalore. Elbowing through the huge crowd in the Forum Mall on a Sunday evening . Many who throng here have more than one credit card in their wallets to buy a coffee mocha in Java City, shop in Westside and Mochi. The scene is no different in many such departmental stores in the city. But something is missing in these poshe stores __ a bond. A bond which can neither develop with the big businessman nor the buyers.

Flashback to 2002. I still remember Bishnu of Bishnu Stores, Laxman of Laxman Accessories and Monu of Priyadarshini Jewelleries. Those shopkeepers of a small township of Batanagar. A huge locality of small shops was the heart of the town. The joint where youngsters to oldies used to meet for different reasons. There was not much of a polished touch to these small stores, yet there was a friendly relation that existed between the buyers and the sellers. The locality people could pick up any thing from a shop and pay it later. It was written down in a small register kind of a book, marked as credit account. Even if we had nothing to buy at times, we never missed the chance to say a Hello to them. So was our relation.

If it was a mid-week shopping in the mandi, we bumped into our local friends and many whom we knew. Banshi, the fish seller was the well-known in the fish market. The Sunday shopping was incomplete without a visit to him, even if we did not buy some fish for the week. Sometimes, he even used to force some fresh shrimps or hilshas of the season in the bag, convincing that payment won't matter at all.

During the Bengali New Year, all these shops used to invite their customers to clear-up their payments. And the shop owners used to open a haalkhata, a new account book for the next year.

The frolic that marked the festival was endearing. We used to visit the small shops embellished with colourful bulbs. Sweet boxes and calendars were common gifts for all of us. But, it was not just an ocassion where we were invited to clear the year's debts but it was the bond that was revived and nurtured when there was no boudary between the person who stood inside the shop counter and the other outside.

Things have changed. When I pay my bill in the Food World and the salesman hands over the change and says Thanks I miss those petty shopowners, who did not say thanks yet maintained a bond.

2006-09-06T04:20:00.000-07:00

Some cute pictures

2006-09-02T12:38:00.000-07:00

Who am I?

Being the only child have been quite a privilege for me since I was small. I had always got the attention that I wanted. Not that I got whatever I demanded __ not a barbie doll or a pink ballerina __ but it was great being the precious one of my parents always. Trust me, I used to love when I had fever. The care and attention was something which I used to crave for. Buy yes at times the concern was suffocating too.

I have grown up the way they wanted me to be. Exactly like them with the values instilled in me. Good or bad I don't know but I stand here at this jucture with whatever lessons they have given to me. It never came to my mind if they were right or wrong. Because I never felt it necesary to ask them back.

After years being with them, now I am working alone in this city, miles away from my parents. I studied in a hostel. Experieced a different life. Away from them. Had to decide by myself what was right and wrong for me. Yes, at times I was baffled. But I did not go wrong. Probably the values roped me from going haywire. Then I started working here. And my work threw me into a new environment, which was different. I learnt new things and saw a different life.

Times changed so did my mind set. Experience added new lessons to my life. I never judged if what I had learnt from my parents was different from what I am experiencing now. Probably there are so many questions that come to my mind which will remain unanswered. I don't dare to ask my parents.

I know am not wrong in so many instances, but I don't want to hurt them. Don't want to argue with them for my sake. I don't want to act selfish. I just want to be me.

2006-08-12T11:37:00.000-07:00

Reema, 24, had an arrange marriage this year and came to Bangalore from Kolkata. She is a homemaker and her husband is a IT engineer. She spends a lonely day at her place as her husband leaves at 8 am and comes back late at night.

Shruti, 25, came to the city with her husband. She too remains busy throughout the day with her household chores. Her husband works with Wipro and spends almost the whole day at his work.

There are so many like Reema and Shrutis in Bangalore who come from other cities and settle here to start a new life here. To begin a new relation with their better half.

I really wonder how much women are made to sacrifice for a relation. Ok, one might wonder why these gals don't take up a job and engage themselves. They can't escape from the ordeal even if they are working. There are many who are bound to take a break or change the profession because her job schedule is not matching with their husbands'.

Such cases are also plenty. Trishna, 28, from Tripura got married and came to Bangalore. She had been working as a journalist for six years. But left the job because her husband wasn't happy. She quit finally.

Why is it that women have to compromise? Is this possible that a man is compelled to quit his job because his work timing is not matching with her wife? Men might raise eyebrows on this question. Hardly do we come accross such instances where the husband is "understanding". Rather it is the least to be excepted.

There are many who accept what their husbands like and move on in life. Learn to live on his terms. There are many who dare to walk out of the relation. But why is it that love becomes a weakness? Isn't a relation meant to enrich the both in each other's company? Or is it forces to change thyself because they are into a relation. Will anybody explain?

2006-06-30T12:48:00.000-07:00

Leave the God!

A strong belief that draws lakhs of devotees to the Amarnath lingam every year is shaken. Why? Controversy has already started brewing if the deformed lingam is natural or man-made.

To avoid any misunderstanding, the Jammu and Kashmir government ordered a judicial probe. First, fingers were pointed at outsiders. Then it was a twist to the whole story. Now evidence (TOI reporter) says that the governor S K Sinha had ordered for dry ice from Delhi since the lingam did not take take its usual shape. Shocked? Please, don't. There are letters which prove that the governor has given such order.

What next? Even if it's proved that who is the culprit, will the devotees accept it. Let's leave it on time

2006-06-23T02:32:00.000-07:00

The Army in soup

First the pinch. "The comfort level to work with lady Army officers is low compared to their male counterparts and the Army can do without lady officers". Then the balm. The Army Vice Chief Lt Gen. Pattabhiraman apologises saying that the Army is proud of the performance of the lady officers.

But the saga doesn't end here. With the recent death of Lt Sushmita Chakravarty in Udhampur raises doubts about the unequal treatment that the lady officers are subjected to. Sushmita, as quoted from the letters by the National Women's Commission, was disgusted with the arrangemnets she had to make for the late night parties. Happy she was except that she was disappointed with the work culture in this male-dominated field.

Flashback to Flying officer Anjali Gupta's case. She had alleged cases of sexual harassment against three officers. The Chief, Air Marshal S P Tyagi started the probe. But things haven't changed much. And then Anjali was court-marshalled on charges of indiscipline and financial irregularities.

Back to the lop-sided behaviour within the Army. The story on the disproportionate salary scale of the lady officers compared to the men, in the Hindustan Times issue (June 23), keeps us wondering how the gender bias rules at large in the field, which is supposed to respect women the most. But high hopes.

When women are performing their best at all echelons of the society, Pattabhiraman's comment comes as a shock.

A Bench should try to find out about the level of corruption in the Army and the plight of the lady officers.

Hope the probe yields some results and puts an end to this inequality.

2006-05-26T12:40:00.000-07:00

Musical note

Music and India seem to be like two words that are analogous. History stands testimony to this. Even now we pick up Tansen's instance to compare one's versatality and the prowess in music.

Zoom in on Bollywood music history, names of S D Burman, Mohammad Rafi, Naushad, Majruh Sultanpuri, Kishore, Geeta Dutt, Asha and R D Burman still make India pride, whether it is in composing music or lending a lilting voice to soothe the huge audience.

Fast forward to 21st century. Things haven't changed much, except that new talents are finding place on the dais.

The flurry of singers flourishing across the country shows that music is a talent that is aplenty. Thanks to the talent hunt shows. Yes, they might be interested in business, but it is undeniable that youngsters from corners of India get the opportunity to stage their talent. And, also can shoot to fame in few days, with a huge fan following. Their lives too change for a few days __ from designer clothes to prying cameras capturing every moment of their life giving them a brief taste of stardom. The stars in the making even get the chance to work with their chahida music directors too.

From well known Sunidhi Chauhan to newly found star Abhijeet Sawant, the list is neverending when it comes to the young singers who are ruling the music world.

Talents are bugeoning in the Bollywood industry and soon there will be a whole new group of stars who can add a new horizon in this arena. Is India ready for it?

2006-05-24T12:54:00.000-07:00

Quota cauldron

The neverending quota stir is going too far. It will be wrong to say that OBCs and the SC/STs will be able to enjoy the fruits of the bill, if it is passed. And it's unjustified to assume that merit will be sacrificed because of this vote bank politics, as the AIIMS student are claiming.

The reality is a little different.

The 25 pc reservation for the AIIMS students in P-G admission and the 33 pc quota for them is unconstitutional, according to the Supreme Court of India (2001 judgment). The Delhi High Court has found out in a survey that the 33 pc quota for these students has been statistically made so that they can occupy all the 40 seats reserved for them.

The Delhi High Court has come up with new statistics after the five-year-long survey, which shows that the AIIMS in-house students are rather the privileged ones.

In the 1996 P-G admission, it has been seen that an AIIMS students scoring 46. 167 pc (which is the lowest according to AIIMS standard) got admission , while an SC student even though got admission was denied the coveted courses of obstetrics and gynaecology. Evenmore, 12 AIIMS studenst got admission while an SC student, who scored 66.3 pc, was denied a chance.

The SC has agreed with the High Court verdict that institututional quota is bad in law.

Then whose merit is sacrificed?

(Inputs from TOI story : AIIMS docs live in glass houses)

2006-05-04T03:40:00.000-07:00

My hostel

Three years. That's the time I have spent in my hostel. It's time to wind up from here. The hostel owner is all set to hike the rent, which is a bit too much for me right now. It was the terrace room first. Had fun out there. Perfectly owner's pride and neighbour's envy. As if we not only owned the room but also the terrace. The schorching days of summer were never so bad, as the pleasant nights used to compensate. It was nice bathing in the sun, when winter came. The crushing sound of the fighter planes used to wake me up at nights. But, I enjoyed. But, our good time ended after a theft. We left the room and occupied one of the not-so-good rooms in ground floor. But, my classmates were around. I never realised the change. After few months my room mate and I were the only ones in our batch left in the hostel. Others left. New batch came and then the next. Fresh new faces reminded of my old friends. Now, probably I am too old here. Time to say bye to my good old hostel.

2006-05-02T12:41:00.000-07:00

Pramod Mahajan dies. After being pumped with bullets, he had been hospitalised in Hinduja since April 22. His family was shocked, so was the BJP. But, death does not end the affair there. Now the TV channels and newspapers will start flashing the breaking news and TRP ratings will shoot like anything. Everyone in the office is glued to the TV. Each and everyone is throwing opinions about how good a politician he was. But, there are so many people dying everyday, does anybody report or care? But Mahajan makes news. So his death is important.