Friday, September 2, 2011

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I MISS U SIR.... HAPPY TEACHER'S DAY......

THE GOOD FOR NOTHING “GAME”

Controversy and Indian politics have always shared a hand and glove relation since time immemorial. In fact, one cannot do without the other. The recent Naamkaran of West Bengal to Pashchimbanga / Poshchimbongo (whatever! it gives me a real headache) has once again sparked off comments, protests, dissatisfactions across the state (Lokpal is not the only issue which has taken the country by storms). From politicians to film stars, officers to hawkers, students to homemakers, everyone seems to dislike this “useless” new name.


“ISSHHHHH (the word made famous by Mr.Bhansali , Mrs. Junior Bachhan and Miss Shreya Ghoshal in Devdas, with the famous Bangla taan to make the pronunciation longer), ki pochaa naam!!” was the common response when this new name for the old state was declared on August this year. In fact, no body, I mean no body except (may be) Mamata & friends is happy with the not so Posh Posh-chim-bongo (this is supposed to be the exact bangla pronunciation). ! “A state in the east of India is being called Pashchimbanga?” mocks an eminent personality of the state.


The apparent reason quoted behind this transformation was “to lift the state up”, not literally but in the alphabetical order from’ W’ to ‘P’.
“But if that was the case, why not lift it up among the first five letters of the alphabets between A – E, just as was done in the case of Madras, from M to C?” ask the frustrated and annoyed citizens (the Awpheesh goers and all Maa Maati, Manush of the state) who (literally) broke into tears after watching the news on telebhishon or reading the newspapers, fearing that this might make the state lose its identity. In fact, most of the ‘Bangalis’ of the state had wished their state to be called just BENGAL, without any sense of direction or region or baangaliyana (just as the English have a tendency to Anglicize, Bengalis do have the same tendency to Benglicize, no offense to my dearest Bengali friends, I will come to this in the later part of this write up) imposed on it. But who will bell the cat? I mean who would tell Mamata that?


The non Bengalis of the state and the foreigners must have had a tough time pronouncing KOL-KATA, when in 2001 the name of the capital was changed from Calcutta to “Kolkata”, reflecting a prevalent Bengali pronunciation and pride. This time, I guess, they are going to have a tougher time pronouncing POSHCHIMBONGO in the way it should be. But the most important question of the hour is: was this name game really needed? Would the people and the place be any better off with such “transformation”? Or simply, if it can be put in straight words, “does the change in the name of a place really bring a positive change as far as the development and prosperity issues are concerned? Is it the only issue that the Govt. needs to resolve? Well, with the disappointed Poshchimbongoans, who are anything but happy with the “unfortunate” decision of the lady in blue and white, the answer seems to be a big NO.


Commenting on this, one of my friends says,
“ Aar koto dekhbo, Aamader Fuldir Rongo
Kolkata ke korben London, West Bengal ke Poshcimbongo!!!”

William Shakespeare had said in Romeo and Juliet, “What’s in a name? That which we call a Rose by any other name would smell as sweet.”


I wish the Bard of Avon would be living in the present times to see this naamkaran utsav, which has literally victimized many state capitals and cities of the country including Bombay, Madras, Calicut, Cochin, Trivandrum…the list is rather long ! How I wish we could now make Shakespeare understand, “Everything is in the name, old man!”
Now I wish to share a mail that was sent to me from a Bangali friend of mine who’s working with Times of India, Ahmadabad. With no offense to my dearest Bengali friends and well wishers across the country, here it goes. (Just read it, enjoy and forget!!!)
What does a Bengali say if the phone disconnects? – Kol- Kata

A talkative Bengali? - Bulbul Chatterjee

An enlightened Bengali? Jyoti Basu

A stupid Bengali girl? Balika Buddhu

A Bengali marriage? Bedding

An awful place? – Awe pheesh

A mad Bengali? In Sen (insane)

A dark Bengali who lives in a cave? Kalidas Guha

A perfumed Bengali? Chandan Dass

A Bengali goldsmith? Shonar Bongla

What’s bigger than the Bay of Bengal? The Bengali Ego

When does a Bengali sound like a dog? When he says Bow (wow)
Also when he bharks! (Works).
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Monday, August 8, 2011

OH OSAMA !!!


Back in the 90 s, like any child of my age, I too was a great fan of mythological stories which my grand ma used to tell me every night, while I was lulled to sleep. I remember the tale of the Buffalo demon Raktabeej who was killed by Goddess Durga in a fight. But this victory did not come off so easy, even for the goddess. The demon had a boon that whenever a drop of his blood fell on the ground, a duplicate Raktabeej would be born at the spot, thus making it very difficult for the goddess to win, as hundreds of duplicate demons were born as his blood fell on the ground. Finally, it was goddess Kali who came to her rescue and sucked off the blood pouring from the body of the demon. Ultimately, he was annihilated.

The 6.94 billion population of the world had a great sigh of relief on the wake of May 2, this year, when the U.S Navy Seals gunned down the planet’s “Mostest” ( I could not find a better word, though might be meaningless) wanted ever born, Osama Bin Laden, in his luxury hideout in Pakistan. It added yet another feather in the cap of the U.S forces and marked an end to the chase, the manhunt that began nearly a decade ago in September 2001, post 9/11. The U.S sources confirmed that the man killed was indeed Osama, the terror king of all times, who had now been reduced to a “bloody corpse”, bringing a smile on faces across the world.

But is it really celebration time for us too? Is Bin Laden really dead? Does his “physical” absence from the earth mark the end of fear in the world? Have the words “terror” and “terrorism” vanished with the “long cherished” death of the Al Qaida supremo? Can we now have a sound sleep at night, without having to worry about any more violent killings of tomorrow? Can the common Indian man can now be relaxed even if he is late for home or his children do not return thought it’s late at night?

Well, with the recent Mumbai blasts last month, the answer to all the questions above is a big NO. In fact, 13 July 2011 has once again exposed the hollowness and impotency of the security system of the country and the powerlessness of the citizens who are fully dependent on the system, a system which has no backbone. The politically correct diplomats are forming committees, holding meetings, making new “advanced” (?) strategies to tackle the security threats, but is there anything really happening? How long will the babus hide their shameless faces behind the milk white curtains of their posh chambers and hum the tune of “Spirit of Mumbai”, letting innocent lives suffer and suffer?

The U.S did learn a lesson from the 9/11 attacks, unlike India who did not “care to learn” from 26/11. Advertising Guru Mr. Alyque Padamsee truly says
” I wish I could tell the prime minister and the Government that there is no shame in admitting that we Indians understand Vedas and Kamasutra, but not how to handle terrorism… what do we have? Police that come late, hospitals that do not know how to handle patients in a terror attack. Why am I complaining? We will never change.”

True, Bin Laden is dead. But what about the hundreds and thousands of Bin Ladens, who are being trained to become new faces of terror for the world, who are roaming freely across countries and continents, like Raktabeej and who are engaged in the heinous plotting and planning of taking innocent lives irrespective of nations, creeds and races, and thus immortalizing the Osama Cult? When will we learn? Probably the only difference between the buffalo demon and Osama is that while the former was a mythological figure, the latter is not. Osama was here, he still is. Actually, Osamas never die. We don’t let them die.

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

WINTER- A REASON TO CELEBRATE!!!

[This post was written in mid December last year, but could not be published for some reasons... hope it will bring some relief in the scorching heat....:) ]




Have you ever felt the warm embrace of the wind on a cold day? Or seen the magical beauty of the dew drops on a blooming marigold in the month of January? Or ever felt the mystical fragrance in the air when the surrounding is wrapped in fog and mist, when you could hardly see things around yourself? Well, unlike the poet who hailed winter as a symbol of human sufferings and pain, winter has always been the most favorite season of mine since I was a little girl. But it’s not just these few reasons which make me fond of the chill and the fog, but the most important reason is that winters make me Nostalgic. In fact, winters take me deep down the memory lane, making me yearn for the lost days of girlhood, which I could get back probably in my dreams and thoughts only, or may be in some other birth, if such things are to be believed.

I remember how I hated attending the morning school especially during the cold season in my pre primary and primary days back in the early nineties and would often find a stomach ache or a toothache as an excuse for getting a day off. My parents would go through a kind of an ordeal to wake me up and get me dressed up, but somehow how they would convince me and take me to attend those not so interesting classes without fail, and even if I pretended crocodile tears, anyone hardly cared! The “great loss” would soon however be “compensated” with some chocolate candies or a new drawing book when I returned home. But such ordeals were a common thing almost everyday at my house. And in the midst of such childish mayhem, winter vacations would come to rescue me. Yes, long winter breaks were a great relief to me. It meant no more getting up early in the morning, no daily drama of crying and scolding, and yes, and no morning classes to go for! Thus, winter, to me, was a reason to celebrate.

I remember traveling to my father’s native village, about 30 kilometers from Agartala, to spend those luxurious times, a place where I had realized that sleeping till late in the morning was not the only beautiful thing that winters could offer, in fact, there was so much more in store for me. Most people of the village including my grandparents, lived in mud houses, which would be properly cleaned and washed every day with water. There was a large courtyard in front of the house adorned with rows of marigolds, roses, hibiscus, and many other flowers and orchids. Unlike the city dwellers who smile at the sun not before 8 O’ clock on wintry mornings, every morning my grand parents would get up at five and start their usual domestic chores, and to my own surprise, I would accompany them too. That was the beginning of my real interaction on a winter morning, with a winter morning. That’s when I started loving foggy mornings drenched with dew and mist on the face of earth, making it more beautiful. That’s when I could inhale a nameless fragrance, the fragrance of the fog and the mist which took me closer to Mother Nature.

I remember standing in the open fields, stretching my arms wide open and letting the rings of smoke out of my mouth, on a winter morning, without actually smoking! And I think I am going to miss that forever. Every evening, we would have a bonfire in the courtyard, where neighbors would rush in, and we would warm ourselves in front of the fire, holding a cup of tea in each hand, enjoying every bit of the chilly gusts of wind that ran down our spines. The celebration had no name of its own but I guess it was a celebration of humanity, a celebration of togetherness, a celebration of taking time out of the busy schedules and spending it with near and dear ones, a celebration dedicated to Nature.

Besides cheering up the four senses, viz. sense of sight, hearing, touch and smell, the arrival of winters added to my taste buds as well. I am a complete foodie and the smell of local delicacies on Makar Sakranti and the incomparable taste of patishapta, pitha, malpua, gurer payesh …and hundreds of mouth watering dishes would literally make me go mad, and if given a chance, I would choose not to be sane again, given the condition that you guys have to provide me with these food in the asylum!!!

But truly has someone said that Change is the only constant thing on earth. True, life has changed a lot for me. Now I hardly get time to visit my native village, the sweet dishes do not taste the same as they used to be, the jaggery does not taste as sweet as it used to be, no more bon fires because there is hardly any space in my house in the city, no more standing in the open fields and feeling the "warm" embrace of the foggy mornings, no more watching the dew fall on the coy leaves, well … the list of no more’s will go on. All I am left with is just a bagful of those good old memories that I cherish whenever I am sitting alone in my room or trying to pen down a few lines in my diary. But I still love winter and try to welcome it in every way I could because to me winter is nostalgia…