As my heart cries in pain...

The news took me behind by at least 15 years! 1995; a year i will never forget ! A year that made me grow into a more responsible woman !

I lost my dad; my friend, my guide, my role model, forever!

May 27th 1995, was the end of all the pain that he was going through. The pain that one can't spell out, a pain that is caused by one of the most feared diseases - yes, Cancer! A fast failing health since Jan 1995, but the fighter spirit kept him going for a few months more.

My dad was always active & fit. He had played football in his younger days, represented the Indian Railways and had played against one of the big clubs in West Bengal. His was a Centre Forward position in the field! He also played Tennis with equal skill!

He was someone who was disciplined & believed in "Simple living & high thinking". We heard this so many times when we were young and the world around us was changing fast! He was a man of commitment both in professional sphere & of course in his personal life. He was caring & respectful and life had not been very easy with him. He lost his dad; my grand dad, in the early years and had to put in a lot of effort to move up in his career and balance family responsibilities.

I saw my dad slowly get into confinement; first he stopped driving on his own, then, would just walk to the nearby shops to get small stuff for home, the movement got limited to within our flat in Kolkata and finally to his room & bed! He looked so helpless at times that I really wished there was some way I could help!

He had stopped reading, saying he didn't "feel like". Little did he know that I understood his weakening vision.

On very high dosage of medication to reduce the pain, he would still smile & say " ka karen duty par jana hai"

My dad , a proud man, a man who was always independent in thought, word & action, cried quietly in immense pain ! A pain so deep that one could never imagine its impact just by looking at this smiling, 5ft 11inch tall frame!

We chatted over evening cups of tea, he still " made decisions for the house", that's how he put it, still advised me on my career & studies, shared his experiences of the pre -independence days -1946 ;while he was in college R K mission in Belur and so many more events !

All the symptoms told me that he was reaching a point of no return & so fast that one could never imagine! It was only in the month of April , the last week, when the doctor treating him looked sad & worried.

I heard muffled crying deep at night, the pain must have been unbearable. In the morning he would again smile a "good morning" ,as we had tea together. God, I really wished there was a better way!

Today, my first cousin brother - Collin, as we fondly call him, is going through tremendous pain as he has been diagnosed for Cancer ! He too is a fighter and is a courageous & positive fellow. I have very fond memories of our childhood, during our visit to Delhi in 1973 and then when he spent summer vacation with us in Jamshedpur.

My writing today is a prayer for Collin, a quick recovery ,for his health, for strength & courage that he needs & we all need as a family.

Parrots in Distress!

( Picture taken from my Balcony on 23rd Aug morning)

Is it team work or a simple 'save the fraternity?'
Monday morning on the 23rd of August,as I sat sipping my hot cup of tea and reading the newspaper, the sudden increase in the decibels of chirping of birds caught my attention. Since it was a holiday for Onam, there was no hurry.
Stepping out, I saw at least 6 long tailed , green bodied, red beaked flying creatures!
Yes, there were so many Parrots – an unusual sight !
Even if I didn’t know the Parrot language, I could make out that there were reasons enough for the Panic!
They were flying all over the place, trying to peep into a narrow crack between the two apartment buildings across my verandah. What was wrong ? My curious self took over !
I saw the bigger of the birds, balancing on the parapet and peek into the crack! The others were squealing in panic as if crying out for help! There was a little parrot stuck in there!
Oh God , This was an area unaccessible to us without a scafolding and that at this time, was impossible!
They never gave up! Flew from one end to the other as if assuring each other and the little one “ Don’t worry , we are all there ! Everything will be fine!”
The Mynahs, who are the original residents of the place, and deftly move in & out of that little space, were also there, watching helplessly!
I stood, with my camera, clicking away & praying for their success!
I could feel their panic – these lovely creatures, some perched on the telephone wire, a lone fella , on the balcony of a flat, as if wondering ‘what will happen?’ They were trying out all tricks- placing & pushing with their red beaks into the cement, hanging from a higher place and so many other moves!
Strangely, the two big dogs in the apartment above kept them company! These are the most noisy fellows otherwise! Barking at the slightest disturbance! I guess they understood that these beautiful ones were facing a crisis! They held on to the balcony looking down silently – as if to say “ wish we could help!”
This was for almost an hour! They were able to get the little one out of the crack!
I found the zeal amazing,the honest attempts, the team work, their “never say die” attitude!
I reinforced my learning on life once again! Give a quiet support and never give up!
Life as they say is the biggest teacher!

Voice of the Hibiscus

( A Hibicus flower from my pot garden-stages of bloom)
It was only this morning, when I woke up,I heard her voice – came close to me with her tea cup
“Ah! Ma another beauty to bloom today!”
Her eyes bright, excitement in her voice, Yellow!, My color, has always been her choice.
‘Click’ went her camera, she caught me permanently in,

Its early hours, chirping of the birds, the morning air so thin.
“ Don’t pluck this flower!” came the stern instruction from her,

She turned to look at me, a smile, only for me , as soft as fur!
‘Bloom dear one, I love you so, Lets have each day brighter than before.’
Then the birds came in and the Sun rose in the bright blue sky,

I stretched a little more –peering to see the world, raising myself to a greater high!.
Must have been an hour or two, she was back, oh how I love her too!
I wish she could hear me say “Good morn, my life Is short- only a day; that begins with the dawn”
I saw her eyes; bright with the smile, ‘Click’ went the camera for a second time!
“Will I see this flower in full bloom?” – I could read her mind;

She didn’t want to leave me ,for a whole day,behind.
I have another hour before for work she leaves,

I’ll be gone when she returns, my life is so brief!
I saw her sad eyes at this very thought,

She loves us all – in her small garden, her mother has taught!
Just as I pushed myself and bloomed to my fullest best,

In the dinning hall, the clatter of plates & spoons were put to rest.
“Ma! look at the bloom", I heard her shout, all so proud like a little boy scout!
‘Click’ went her camera , I swayed in happiness & glee, At last I’m done and now am free!
The whole day I shall spend looking up at the sun,

Listening to the birds, Watch them have all the fun!
My friend will be back, as the day closes & the evening draws its curtain
‘Come back again,O beautiful Hibiscus’ she will say , I’m so certain
With a heavy heart as we bid goodbye, I said -'This my friend, is the cylce of life – Please don’t cry!'

Circus!

( Pictures from Gemini & Jumbo circus)

It was our usual Sunday connect to the US. My 6 yr old nephew Aayush, was narrating his experience at the Circus that he had been to over the weekend. His voice had the excitement of what he saw!
My brother then piped in,“ its not like what it used to be in our days, you know.”
My thoughts raced, as if on a F1 track, but the difference was, I just went backwards! Probably could have given Michael Schumacher a run for his money!
How exciting it would be, when Dad told us that if we were good for the week and did all our homework and listened to Ma, then he would take us all to the Circus. The Names that come to my mind are – Gemini Circus, Imperial Circus, Jumbo Circus, Empire Circus and I also recollect there was a Russian Circus that had come to perform at Jamshedpur. Each year there would be a different one!
It used to be a matter of prestige if we hadn’t seen the Circus and would be like an outcast in the friends circuit. “Tumneh abhi bhi Circus nahi dekha? Main ney to dekh liya!” (“You haven’t yet seen the circus ? I have already seen it), was the dialog from the changing group leaders- sometimes it used to be Bablu – now in the Army and sometimes my best friend Dollu.
The Circus was always very exciting! Sometime Dad would get the tickets in advance and sometime we would wait in the long line to the ticket counter. These were made of tin sheds- temporary structures, on the big “maidan” (grounds) – Golmuri Maidan. This was one of our bigger grounds in Jamshedpur.
As we got nearer to the Maidan, the smell of animals would make our nose twitch and a small smile would appear on our faces. “Bagher Gondho” (Smell of the Tiger!) would be my brother’s little voice, as we held each other’s hand in a tight clasp. My brother & I would exchange glances – eyes bright & slowly the smile spreading to the eyes!
Inside the tent, the chairs were made of tin, the folded ones and were arranged in circular fashion row by row, elevated by wooden plank to give a feel of an amphitheatre. We were really not bothered about all these fineries! Our eyes wide open, were focused on the round stage and we looked around for any sign of a Tiger, Lion or even a Parrot! All other children around us were equally excited and we could hear squeals and the hushes as the live band played to announce the start of the show. Oh yes, there were show timings! The tickets probably cost us Rs15 – Rs20 per person those days! I don’t quite recollect and honestly not that we were really bothered about the cost… Dad was there to take care of all that!
Everything was so colourful, the Joker came along with almost every trick that was shown. Yes, there used to be two of them, One, the tall chap and the other who was a Dwarf! They beat each other up once in a while; the shorter fellow would climb on to a stilt and tease the tall fellow. I recollect the crowd going into splits of laughter!
As the band played, the pretty girls came on to the stage riding bicycles or sometime with a Bear; to perform their tricks! I always wondered whether the animal could really understand her language! I would later try these with a stray dog I had picked up to keep as pet. His name was “Bumpy”. I had fought with my Gandmom to keep him at home! I remember we had a major negotiation – I could keep him provided he was kept in the Verandah outside the main house! Finally peace was declared!
Animal rights were not to strong those days and there would be lots of tricks using Elephants, Tigers and Lions. The Ring Master would be inside the Cage, snapping his whip and shouting at the Lion to jump into the ring of fire! You could hear the roar – a reluctant big cat would then jump through the burning ring!
The big Cats roared and I still recollect having a terrified feeling – “what if the Lion jumps out of the cage?” A question I had asked my Dad quietly during one such occasion. I remember him holding me close and saying – “Na, they have been given ‘Afeem’ ( a medicine- as understood by me then) and they won’t be able to come this side.” I remember sitting very close to him throughout the Tiger, Lion show! What a reassurance of safety we have with parents around! Amazing trust!
The Trapeze act would always be amazing! How people would swing across and the co-ordination! Girls and Boys both would be so accurate- of course the Joker would try his hand too and the obvious would be – his great fall and landing on the net stretched below!
We used to feel bad when the Trapeze started off – as it would be the last game of the show. The insatiable appetite to see and want more fun was, I guess, every child’s dream ! We were no different!
Weeks together would go discussing with friends and the numerous questions to my parents – all the how’s & why’s would need to be answered. My brother had a collection of cars and once we were back home; for some days he would make his cars do the tricks that the Motorcycle rider would do in the round big Ball of Net! Making the zooming noise, he would be at it and then the games would change till the memories came back after our next visit to the Circus- that of course would be only the next year!

The Liberation War -1971

(Picture taken from Google - News clips during the 1971 war)

As I read “Songs of Blood and Sword” written by Fatima Bhutto, I seem to travel back, along the dust filled memory lanes of my childhood. Memories that are not distinct; but still exist. Some sounds, some voices and some experiences that leave behind a funny feeling in the stomach – a feeling of emptiness!
1971, the year that India participated in the war, to get freedom for the people of then East Pakistan - today’s Bangladesh. We were at Jamshedpur – the Steel city. I was very young and my brother – a toddler. I recollect that the factory area was covered with air balloons or were they gas balloons; I’m not too sure. Reason ? the factory was an easy enemy target – especially during Air raids.
I remember Dad, we called him Baba, going to the Steel plant on his scooter, a Vespa. The headlights were half blackened! All vehicles met with the same fate. The air was tense and I had too many questions racing in my mind, creating images of all kinds.
What I distinctly remember was the Bengali radio channel –“Aakash Baani Kolkata” – played a particular song from Rabindranath Tagore’s collection – “ Aamar Sonar Bangla, Aami tomay bhalobashi…” ( O My golden Bengal, I love you), another ‘Bangladesh aamar Bangladesh’ ( My Bangladesh) and a voice that delivered fiery speeches. I don’t remember what he said but recollect being told that it was the voice of Sheikh Mujibur Rehman, the freedom fighter in East Pakistan. Not that these made any sense to me but there definitely had some meaning. I also recollect my Grandmother very seriously reading the Bengali newspaper “Jugantor” and sharing some serious conversations with my parents. I really can’t recollect the content of discussion, but the sounds told me that it must have been about the war!
Ah! What is most vivid is the sound of the screaming Sirens- an experience I don’t think I will ever forget! The moment we heard the screams, we were supposed to switch off all lights and all the houses in the locality, must the city too, would plunge into complete darkness, till the next screaming siren! It was a regular drill that we were put through almost every evening. I don’t recollect the timings, but even today the very thought brings a feeling of emptiness in my stomach. I hate darkness and would be very restless till the lights were switched on. And probably to divert my own attention, I would request my Ma to accompany me in the dark as I wanted to answer the Nature’s call! My Grandmom’s irritated voice would ring through the darkness – “Can’t you wait for a few more minutes?” “No”, would be the indignant reply, as I would stomp across the room towards my destination making the maximum amount of noise possible!
Along with all this is the memory of a Chakravorty family – Mr. Chakravorty worked in the Steel Plant. Baba was his senior colleague and Mr. Chakravorty loved & respected ‘Mukherjee da’- my Dad. Uncle along with his better half ; in the true sense; as she would am sure weigh many more ‘Kgs’ than Uncle; were regular visitors for us. Being mischievous as I was, almost always got my share of reprimand as I recollect telling Ma – “ Guess Kakima( aunty) eats up everything at home and poor Kaku ( Uncle) only smells the plate”. I remember Ma's stern look and voice forbidding me to say 'such' things. And their next visit would make me chuckle at the same though! Incorrigible child!
It was during these times of the ’71 war period that Chakravorty Kaku would remain very worried about his mother & sister who lived in East Pakistan. There were so many stories that we got to hear and I am sure they would reach him too. There were no Mobiles those days and the Telecom was not developed at all. Hence there was the radio and the newspapers that probably gave us all the news. They were the media for the “Aam Janta”
Many years later, I remember Baba sharing that those were tough times and tougher still were the number of questions that I would put forth for him to answer!
An incident that I will never forget is about meeting two unknown ladies in our own Verandah. As I came back from the playground, I recollect seeing these two ladies with the Chakravorty couple. My parents, my Grand mom and the Chakravortys were all seated as if in a round table conference with the “Cha-Nashta” ( Tea with snacks), discussing the ‘Escape’ that these two ladies had from the war-stricken zone. The Ladies were Kaku’s Mom and sister.
Later Ma and my Grand mom had shared how these brave ladies had been. Since they were ‘minorities’ the atrocities were unimaginable. They were able to carry in small bundles only some of the valuable they had and had to leave their home in the cover of darkness! These ladies swam the river Padma, which is Ganga on our side of the country and as it got into Bangladesh is know as Padma. How is this possible! They had reached a refugee camp on the other bank of the mighty river. It is from there that the Indian Army helped them to reach Kolkata safely. Chakravorty Kaku had then brought them to Jamshedpur!
I as write these lines, I don’t know if there were many such families who went through these tormenting times. I recollect hearing the sobs of the younger lady and one can surely say, that it must have been really scary for them both.
I salute the two ladies who had the will power to overcome the difficulties and to survive with honour! Guess these are examples of valour that we, the common people, have displayed time and again.

Questions keep bouncing back – have the situations changed since then? Are we more at peace or are we now living in a world where our eyes, hears have got so used to such incidents, that it does not really matter to us! Is peace going to be just a word in our dictionaries?

Hope for a New Day!

( Image taken while flying to Mumbai)

Dawn of a new day, bright is the light from the Sun!
As I look out of the small window, a sea of clouds remind me of stories I read as a child – Jack and the Beanstalk! The big bad giant who had a hen that laid golden eggs, the Harp that spoke and all the golden coins the giant would steal from the villagers!
The land seems so far that one really cant see anything at all.
The clouds , so pure, so white and the rays of the Sun on them gives them a heavenly look! They seem to travel together in groups, from one land to another, from one country to another like messengers of Love, peace and happiness. As if they speak “ I come from a land where there is no hatred, there is only love, there is only brotherhood”
The Blue sky holds them on its vast chest, yet the freedom to float and travel in a direction they all wish to go! No rules yet so disciplined!
When I am on the ground and look up at the endless blue sky,I have always wondered what would be above the clouds ?
And here I am, above them all to be able to see the boundary less sky – no borders, no divisions at all!
I felt like a bird , rising , scaling heights as if exploring the limits and what I could break !
A journey like a free bird in the bright blue sky – Unnmukht Gagan!

Sweet Memories of a sunday afternoon

A lazy, quiet Sunday afternoon, a sumptuous lunch under a softly whirling fan! On the table; conversations on price rise, recipes, the taste buds tingling as the covers lift and we salivate! Our favourite – Chicken curry ! The wonderful Sunday afternoon Lunch!
We sat, a family relishing the fruits of hard work through the week in our own ways, was reminded of the Hindi saying “Mehenat ka phal Meetha hota hai!”
( sweet are the fruits of labour!) Don’t know if it is the right translation, Anyway!
Its almost an hour, till we all finished and the plates Clean! My Thakuma (Grandmother) and I had a love hate relationship but this is one occasion we were both very supportive. She ate slowly and spoke less! You knew then, the lunch was good! She didn’t know management principles of Praising when things were right! No comments meant great job done!
Cling! clang ! The sound of dishes being put aside, and a grumbling me, who had to clean the table while Ma put the extras aside – oh! who ever invented the Refrigerator! The wonder machine! What a blessing ! The chicken tastes better when eaten later! The thought brought in a smile on my otherwise grumpy face!
The radio played the favourites on “Musical Bandbox”. All those numbers that are today referred to as “Retro music” – a Cliff Richards, a Simon Garfunkel and an Abba! The RJ’s never spoke so much as they do now!
Dad would light his carefully made cigarette… the pouch with fresh tobacco – I loved the smell! A small secret - that I had once tried the art of making the same …. And was caught just before I could strike a light! What an experience! I could tell from one brand to the other – sometimes it was Van Gogh, sometimes a Prince Henry or a Wills ! The logic behind making it so painstakingly was to lessen the number of cigarettes a day! Did it work? Well….
Between the fresh smell of the tobacco, quick plans for the evening were made, hoping that no unexpected, friendly relative with bags full of gossip drop in…. Then, all our plans would be a drop out!
So many such small things come to my mind as a Sunday afternoon goes by now. Like a movie, images of our childhood, voice of Dad, of my dear Thakuma, the aroma of freshly cooked food, the whistle of the cooker and so on.. I live each moment again and a smile crosses my lips and heavy eyelids close down on a silent, much awaited siesta!

Dilli ki Sardi! ( Winter in Delhi)

( January 2010 at Gurgaon, 8:30 am)

I was so frozen stiff that I could get line to rhyme… and hence this form of writing!
Was I dreaming or was it really the sound of my mobile reminding me that it was time to be up and about!
Lazily I got up and as if in a sleepwalk; moved towards the window in my room.
My hand reached out to touch it … and as if a 220 volt had struck me… the cold hit me and woke up all my senses! Brrrrrrr….. So cold! And I could see nothing at all…
I was reminded of Tom of the Tom & Jerry fame… when ice cold water would be poured on him and that to when he was caught unaware; as most of the time he is !
Well, I was in Gurgaon- NCR! Temperatures dropped and the fog! Am sure even Punjabi/ Haryanvi humour would not be enough to warm things!
The warm room caused precipitation on the cold window!

The tree across the road stood stiff, frozen gray! The whole surrounding reminded me of a set up from a
horror movie where the sky would suddenly burst….
Oh Let me think – as If there was a whole glass of water split over a canvas of water color painting! Blurred lights, the gray, blue, green forming a tone I can’t describe!
Turned around and looked at the time – I can’t believe it – It was 8:30 am!