(Har Har) Byomkesh – This and that…

My Kolkata trip this winter has been studded with visits to movie theatres lusting after Truth, so far. First, Jisshu (not Jishu, anymore) with contextual disappointments though with no fault of his other than agreeing upon it (A passing mention -  I actually ended up watching that because I had misjudged the timing of release of This Byomkesh which was my actual aim). While he did what perhaps he was asked to do and well - yet, I couldn’t but wonder if it’s is about copyright issues (lack of that, that is) or something else but somethng was positively wrong for sure. I also didn't quite see how Bengalis are (or presumed to be) suddenly on a spree with this dhoti-clad shawl-wrapped thick-frame adorned bhodrolok… and then I reasoned it with – well, one Bengali is no more a poet, he is now a film director – you see!

And with such magnanimous liberal and open, welcoming, non-cynic mind I went – today again – to give This a try! And whoa… This!!

Because I cannot; so "she" can...

This is for that day when I'll really board a train only to get down at a random station, and then let life take its own course just as it should have let have been long back itself...

She had had a rather late night last night, having walked out of her hut after dinner, after well into an hour into what would be time she’d be off to sleep on any other day. But the night – by her measure of things - was special. 



No, it wasn’t a full moon; in fact, to think of it, full moon nights weren’t exactly her personal favourites, though for a long time she had thought that she ought to think more of full-moon nights than she does. The mere fact that philosophers and poets would always put their bet on full moons than upon the darker ones... But no! Since the time she’d arrived (arrived – yes, that perhaps is the right choice of word?) she’s been falling more in love with the dark, quiet times that some nights offer when they don’t quite let the moon explode into its full blast.

Book Journey: You are the Best Wife (Ajay K Pandey)

A quick foreword in confessional honesty: This is my first ever commissioned book-review, and my approach was, well... As much as I was eager just before turning the first page, I was skeptical no less once I had done so, actually. It is someone’s first (only?) book, and is about – no wait, IS – a personal, live journal, a journey of existence till date. And more, it was a story of loss a loss of life, of his wife. And it reads like… it does! You see my reasons!

The book opened and began in a very five point someone style (Oh yes, I read it!). It spoke about the high school career threshold - the dreaded tug of ability and aspiration, moving on to the gateway - the admission process into Engineering college, warming up to ragging in hands of almighty seniors, et al almost in a similar way. Thereafter too, it quite follows the same, worn out in use trail – boy meets girl, fall in something they then call love, move along in life - together. A couple of years of hostel stay followed by a brief while of long-distance, marriage suggestions, caste differences and adequate scoops of “2 States” to a happy ending later, the story (and language too, almost) bears a very strong connotation of… well, you know what (rather, who?). It rises, falls and paves its path over the surface of incidents that are very, very commonplace - taking place just like they always do.

Of December and other good things in life!

“How did it get so late so soon? It’s night before its afternoon. December is here before it’s June. My goodness, how the time has flown! How did it get so late so soon?” – had said Dr. Seuss!

A very good morning, dear Toastmasters! Today I am going to talk about the time of the times, the month of the months. I am going to talk about – The Delights of December!

December brings with it sights, sounds and sumptuous tastes that are unique to its nature.

A guide to CC4 (How to Say It):

CC1 | CC2 | CC3 | CC4 | CC5 | CC6 | CC7 | CC8 | CC9 | CC10


While the objectives of CC4 are plain when laid out, as I had sat to draft my speech, it set me wondering as to how we have really left behind such basic concepts of High School Grammar lessons. So, as an annexure to my CC4 speech ( which is HERE) I am also presenting an elaborate discussion on the crux of CC4 - the refresher that we much need to give an edge to our day to day communication skills. To keep the discussion strung to a theme, I've used examples in shape of telling a story along the theme of Diwali in India.

Without much ado, let's dive into it!

“The Guitar” - A fling that turns into a Lifetime affair, and how!

That she is dying and has something from a month to a two to go, was spelt out to her in a professional, perhaps slightly compassionate and yet disengaged tone. The verdict had been handed out, clearly and unambiguously. She was further explained how she'd first lose her voice, then her sight, and then, decay, not quite slowly.  And yet, as funny as it may sound, this is not but the only verdict she was handed out on the same day. As if she wasn’t yet quite done with! And so, the next two follow: that, she has been "downsized" at her job, and unloved by her lover.

Three verdicts - each unknowing and indifferent to the other two; each, brutal times more due to the other, and yet oblivious; each, each alone, having the power, proved over history, to easily crumble and perish a soul to dust but not before mercilessly tossing it aside into a nothingness safely and surely unknown to one who hasn't walked that road or died those deaths that she was about to, starting that day.

So well, you tell me! What do you do when you’re handed out such a destiny, and you know that they happen, for sure, and all you might do is to accept them and know, tell yourself, in capitals, bold and underlined, that – Very well, girl. This is it!

Know what? Idea!

You… accept.

I wish you a Merry Christmas!

This had also been published in The Huffington Post, Women's Web and MyCity4Kids!!

"How did it get so late so soon? It’s night before its afternoon. December is here before its June. My goodness, how the time has flown! How did it get so late so soon?” – had said Dr. Seuss!

Right! Before you barely get used to the new digits at the end of the date, it’s time to change it again. That time of the year is back. The Time of the times, the Month of the months!

Look! It’s December, again!!

Working Women's Pregnancy - A running thought!

This has also been published in Women's Web and MyCity4Kids!!


I just watched a small video which is being shared widely in social media, which is below:

WATCH THE VIDEO!

And, here's my reaction to the same (I am copy pasting, actually, directly from what I just wrote in the "comment" box of the video, without any edits.) -



I loved, and more loved the fact that somebody thought about it and made it, and yet I cannot but wonder…


Is the only way to prove is to deny your body the changes, the rest it demands, those morning sicknesses and hormonal upheaval... and the only way to women empowerment is just to HAVE TO put up a strong brave face and make sure to be around as if it's all absolutely the same?

Still Alice - a Film Review!

This article has also been published in Women's Web!


This is going to be a rather morbid post, I promise you!

When I had sat myself down to watch this movie, I was uninitiated, totally uninitiated. Of course, I had chosen it only because Julianne Moore, who played the protagonist in it, won herself the Oscar for it. Little did I have a notion of what to look for, what to think of it. But, having watched the gripping tale of “Still Alice”, all I can say is – it truly has been a lesson, at least. A lesson that, one, can really never learn!

How?

I cannot get to the point!!

The project objective said: “Get to the point”. Well, let’s be honest here. I tried. I insist, I tried, and tried and tried very hard. But yet, as you have it, I could not do it. I could not “get to the point.”

Often, when I am desperate, logic leaves me and philosophy takes over. It happened the same way this time too. After spending a clumsy confused hour in despair - thinking about how to, if at all, get to the point - I was very close to giving up. And then, just at that very moment, philosophy struck me. And I cried – Eureka! No, I assure you, I was not in my bathtub at that time!

And bingo!! I got my answer!

What? That, there is not, perhaps, any much point in the objective to get to the point.

About Gender Neutral Parenting

(This one, in terms of its contents, is particularly close to my heart as I had written it our a while back before Toastmasters happened to me, and also this was published in quite a few web-magazines. You can find my original article HERE!)

Dear Toastmasters and Guests –

Gender discrimination forms one of the most gruesome crises in our lives. While gender crimes are more objectively defined, they are only but the tip of the iceberg. Gender discrimination, which is the root-cause of this social evil, is however much common. We are so accustomed to gender disparities in our society that it often becomes a challenge to even identify them as a problem, leave alone combating them in a constructive manner.

Today I am going to talk about a specific area in parenting. I will talk about gender discrimination among children. I will argue that socio-cultural conditioning at young, formative ages form the foundation stone of gender discrimination. And, as a call to action, I’d offer a few handy tips which can help us develop a progressive parenting approach, to raise more gender neutral kids for the future.

Kya "Tamasha" hai!

This is going to be one hell of an insane rant, muse, or I don’t know what! Bear with me.


I’ve often been, rather almost always been, rather envious of those who author self-help books; it seemed they’ve always had a Sufi, a saint, a pathfinder, or even if it's just a tarrot-card reader by the roadside, they've had them there for themselves right on time, right at the very corner of the road where they stopped to find their way. The right message on the poster, the right picture, sermon, song, the right thing at the right moment, just what they needed and when! It always, unfailingly, made me feel very little, feel - incessantly - like not being the chosen one, perhaps!

The Ice Breaker!

Here is what I presented for my very first speech in the Competent Communications journey!

Who am I!!! Now, that does not really sound like an easy question to me. Am I an Actuary first, or a mother; a wife, or a daughter? Maybe I want to become a writer someday, or do I want to become a painter? Do I even know what I am or what I want to become?

However, for now, let me leave these introspections behind, and put in front of you a brief overview of myself.

A warrior who never killed a fly!

White locks of hair pulled into a tiny bun, often covered with a pallu that is but a vague white extension of the once white but now faded 5 metres stretch of cotton, perhaps with a hole here and there over its entire stretch but carefully tugged inside to not be spotted – that is how Dida has looked ever since I can remember. Dida - the common grandmother – in our small but complete world of the neighbourhood, the place we were born and grown up at.

Rajkahini...

I’ll submit at the very outset that this was one movie I was extremely apprehensive about. The raging reviews did it, of course. This film, clearly, seemed to have found itself a place in the niche club of things which they call “extremes” – with reviews (sorry, reactions!) of absolutely polar opposite views on the very same issues. Most of those who watched seemed to have either liked it so much that it disturbed their sleep, or disliked it so much that they could not sleep too!


I was pleasantly surprised that it was not. I found Rajkahini to be a rather brave, ambitious attempt at something that we needed to hear, watch and think about... 

The Little Light of My Life...

This post has also been published in World of Moms!

Menses - let it just be!

This post has also been published in The Huffington Post and Women's Web

Itni si Haasi Itni si Khushi...

We didn't want to. We didn't know if we could manage to! And even when we had to, we didn't stop to train Roopkatha on it because, well, we didn't have time. We were instead rushing to our play rehearsal every day. We thought - we'll just let her be. So we did!

And here's what she did. And what... we did!

Five Reasons why you must attend the Sushant Lok Durga Puja Festivals!

This article has also been published in What's Up Life!, Gurgaon Moms and Suburb magazine.

1.  “Atithi devo bhavaa”

Well, here’s an offer you cannot turn down. Sushant Lok Committee invites you to be a part of their celebrations for all days throughout the season. It is an unconditional invitation, and there are no costs or frills to it. Be their guest!!

Dhopash's Diaper Days...

*This post is a part of the Pampers #SoftestForBabySkin activity at BlogAdda*


Casually, I was looking up the “Photo” and "Video" folders on my laptop, which is when I stopped upon these. Memories came rushing…

"What is Durga Puja?" - they had asked!

This article has also been published at The Speaking Tree, Youthkiawaaz, WhatsupIndia, Gurgaon Moms and Women's Web!!


Now, strange things happen at times at most habitual moments. Like when they asked you to tell them "something about yourself" at your first job interview, and you looked blank. You did not know, until then, how difficult it could be to be asked to summarise your own self, in precise words and well-formed sentences, conclusively and sufficiently! You do not know where to start, what to carefully keep aside, what is just yours and not for the world to know, and what preciseness of the reply would fit the bill right, that is, to leave your audience engaged and pleased and to still be honest and at it. When confronted with casual curiosity, or even courtesy-calls, on something so damn close to you that you've grown up to belong to it or to be it yourself, it really gets bad. I know I am getting too gibberish for you to keep on reading this piece, especially in a season where you've so much to otherwise, and I duly apologise. Give me a chance to defend.

I'm just back from a very sudden going-total-blank-at-a-most-obvious-question situation at a non-Bong gathering. They casually, only slightly curiously, had just asked me one simple well-meaning question:

"What is Durga Puja?"

Mahalaya - The Homecoming!

Well, it was going to be Devipaksha soon, and so I wanted something nostalgic to the core, something sentimental to its brim. So, I thought and thought, and thought, and then I did what I always do - rob my brother. This time, I robbed him to author the first ever guest post on my blog. So, here's to a happy 200th to myself, and an emotional, nostalgic  few minutes of reading journey to each of you...



Mahalaya, the homecoming

Srijan Sengupta

Girls Are Not Any Superior To Boys!!

This article has also been published in Women's Web and a magazine.

Girls are not any superior to boys. Please, it’s important to emphasise and re-emphasise this.

Those regular status messages and those frequent Whats-app forwards that paint the town pink – that tearful letter from a father to his married daughter, that list of things woman leaves behind in marriage, surname, home and freedom to not cook food, to why is mother the next best creation, or wait, the best! No, don’t buy them. Don’t buy them at all!

The Bun in the Oven!!

This has also been published in World of Moms!


I often wonder - now that after four years plus of eventful parenting it all looks like a past as distant as if the rest of my life was not coherent but a past life – as to how did I, we, at all go about it? How did we come at it, at making her? At making our daughter - a blossoming fairytale that she is unfurling every day to be?

How a Crisis "Transfers" into Happiness - with #TATASkyTransfer

* This post is written as a part of  #TATASkyTransfer contest.

It was a state of national level crisis at my den. Yes, you heard me right - National Level Crisis! 

Well, we had to, had to go! Because – as Mom claims - it was a matter of sentiments, a matter of family tradition, a matter of… whatever! And so, we’d have to go – to this great grand big fat ceremonious annual family get-together! 

5 Ways To Raise Your Kid Gender Neutral

This article has been cross-published at The Huffington Post, YouthkiAwaaz, Mycity4kids and Women's Web.

1. Don’t buy them blue or pink.

The other day, my four year old asked, yet again:– Mum, are you sure?– Sure of what?– That pink is not the colour for girls, and blue for boys?– Yes, dear.

I took her to the balcony as we talked:
– Look at the sky. What colour do you see?
– Blue. Light blue.
– Now tell me, is the sky there only for boys? Does it shine or rain only for them and not us?
– No!

Epitaph / এপিটাফ

- তুমি সুখ উপলব্ধি করেছ?

- করেছি তো।

- সত্যি বলছ?

- সত্যিই!

- তাহলে বলো, কেমন সে অনুভূতি? কেমন, সুখ?

তিনি কহিলেন... পার্ট ৪

“তিনি কহিলেন”-এর অন্যান্য অংশগুলো – পার্ট-1 | পার্ট-2 | পার্ট-3

ধপাস দেখতে দেখতে কিরকম তরতরিয়ে বড় হয়ে যাচ্ছে...

যুক্তি সাজিয়ে নিজের ভিউ-পয়েন্ট খাড়া করে – না ঝগড়া না, রীতিমতন বাক্যবাগিশ তর্কালঙ্কারের মতন করে নেগোশিয়েট করে দাপটের সাথে। আমাকে কম্পিউটারে বসতে দেখলেই সরিয়ে দিয়ে নিজে নিজেই ইউটিউব খোলে, তারপর ঘন্টার পর ঘন্টা প্যাপা-পিগ, মিস্টার-মেকার আর প্লে-ডো ভিডিও... জামাকাপড় থেকে টিফিনের মেনু, ম্যাচিং জুতো থেকে বেড়াতে যাওয়ার গন্তব্য, এমনকি সিনেমা দেখতে গিয়ে ইন্টারভেলের পপকর্ণের ফ্লেভার পর্যন্ত ওর ডিসিশনে চলছে আজকাল। এইতো সেদিন, দোকানে গিয়ে কি একটা পছন্দ করেছে, বারণ করায় বলে – “আমি তোমাদের এতো কিছু কিনে দি, তোমরা আমাকে এইটুকু একটা জিনিস কিনে দিতে চাইছনা?” স্কুল থেকে ফিরে চোখ বড় বড় করে গল্প বলে – “আজ যা একটা ঘটনা ঘটেছে না, তুমি তো কল্পনাই করতে পারবেনা!!” অনির্বাণের কোন পাগলামি দেখলে মাথা চাপড়ে বলে – “বাবার মাথাটা পুরো গেছে, আমি আর কিছু করতে পারব না!” আর পান থেকে চুন খসলেই আমার ফোনটা নিয়ে নিজে নিজেই নম্বর ডায়াল করে আমার মা-বাবাকে ফোন করে আমার নামে নালিশ করা, সেসব তো আছেই...

Rainbow...

Fought, made up,

Looked away, 

Stole a gaze.

Loved, laboured, 

And lost again,
Was that a poetry,

Or, just a maze?

তিনি কহিলেন... পার্ট ৪

“তিনি কহিলেন”-র অন্যান্য অংশগুলো – পার্ট-1 | পার্ট-2 | পার্ট-3

ধপাস দেখতে দেখতে কিরকম তরতরিয়ে বড় হয়ে যাচ্ছে...

যুক্তি সাজিয়ে নিজের ভিউ-পয়েন্ট খাড়া করে – না ঝগড়া না, রীতিমতন বাক্যবাগিশ তর্কালঙ্কারের মতন করে নেগোশিয়েট করে দাপটের সাথে। আমাকে কম্পিউটারে বসতে দেখলেই সরিয়ে দিয়ে নিজে নিজেই ইউটিউব খোলে, তারপর ঘন্টার পর ঘন্টা প্যাপা-পিগ, মিস্টার-মেকার আর প্লে-ডো ভিডিও... জামাকাপড় থেকে টিফিনের মেনু, ম্যাচিং জুতো থেকে বেড়াতে যাওয়ার গন্তব্য, এমনকি সিনেমা দেখতে গিয়ে ইন্টারভেলের পপকর্ণের ফ্লেভার পর্যন্ত ওর ডিসিশনে চলছে আজকাল। এইতো সেদিন, দোকানে গিয়ে কি একটা পছন্দ করেছে, বারণ করায় বলে – “আমি তোমাদের এতো কিছু কিনে দি, তোমরা আমাকে এইটুকু একটা জিনিস কিনে দিতে চাইছনা?” স্কুল থেকে ফিরে চোখ বড় বড় করে গল্প বলে – “আজ যা একটা ঘটনা ঘটেছে না, তুমি তো কল্পনাই করতে পারবেনা!!” অনির্বাণের কোন পাগলামি দেখলে মাথা চাপড়ে বলে – “বাবার মাথাটা পুরো গেছে, আমি আর কিছু করতে পারব না!” আর পান থেকে চুন খসলেই আমার ফোনটা নিয়ে নিজে নিজেই নম্বর ডায়াল করে আমার মা-বাবাকে ফোন করে আমার নামে নালিশ করা, সেসব তো আছেই...

Keep our trust, Jasleen Kaur.

A rather hastily written out outburst. But I needed to...

With this case of Jasleen Kaur, social media has got its new high. Every morning, the timeline floods with half a dozen articles on either side of the motion. The ones supporting Jasleen Kaur uproar with how women have always been taking it lying down and how now the time has come that we speak up. The other stream cries out on how easy it has got to pose as a victim and gather public sentiment. Many a kangaroo courts hop around us, which, to my mind, aren’t any different than khaap panchayats we read about in daily news. We all seem to know what’s right, we all seem to know the answer, and we all seem to be quite ready to execute what we think is the justice. I wish!

Re-United at the Sea...

This has also been published in Women's Web.



Days are long, bright and sunny -

Silver of water, blue of shades,

Vastness of the world at large -

The commerce, the many trades…

The Night Before Wedding

Elina wanted to see Neel that day.

Ok, yes - one last time, if you insist. That famously infamous “one last time” – times, when that man up there, if at all, rolls his one last turn of the dice. And then, just with that single roll, the game can even change! True, even if it is just the day before.

It was the day before, just the day before. She was asking him to come.

Neel thought over it again, and yet again.

-          I understand you want to meet me, Eline, but can we not make it sometime sooner?

-          No Neel. I want to see you that very day.

Eline had said in a very cold, confident tone, punctuating after every single word of the sentence, as if to put in it a word of finality as she spoke. Neel could hear her silent smile in the way she breathed out the words. He was uncomfortable; she knew he would be uncomfortable.

Home Coming - A new life

It was yet another of those sleepless nights, silent and cold as death. The air in her bedroom stood stagnant the way it had done every night over the past countless years. She, like many an occasion before, prayed that the silence remained. That, however, went unanswered soon as he broke it with gritted teeth, hurling yet another round of chosen abuses at her. She remained quiet just as she resolved to do long back.

The air, still and heavy with silence for long, now seemed to grow colder with every hissing word he muttered at her. She realised, yet again, that she had ran out of tears long back, and anger as well. Now what remained in her could possibly be described as a soulless body, she told herself.  This thought offered her some comfort. It protected her like a shield, she wanted to believe. Yet, much to her dismay, she soon felt the warm salty trickle down her cheeks, pressed against the pillow; the pillow that was carefully placed at the farthest corner of the bed away from its other twin, the one which he leaned against at the other end of the bed.

Birdman or (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance) - Film Review

This has also been published at Women's Web.


When I sat to watch the movie "Birdman", there was no denyng that it was indeed because it was the Oscar win this year. I knew that if I like it, it'd mean I've understood it; else, I plain haven't had got it. I had assumed it'd be one which would be rich in a way that I'd have to try and reach. That I'd need to understand references, watch out, and would possibly miss out on few layers.

At the end of it, I realise a different thing - that, what I actually missed out on was the name of the movie. The entire name, which is:

"Birdman - The unexpected Virtue of Ignorance!"

That said, the rest was really for you and for me, and for any and all of us.

A one fine coward morning!

There's this one fine morning, there's this one fine pile of whatsapp messages on muted groups that waited, here's this not finding time or energy to check them anytime before noon.

My old school friends group - one random out-of-ordinary message - read like this:

- "Do you remember that girl called X who used to be our junior, used to date Y, used to travel by school bus route N?"
- Erm, not quite! Why?
- Well, she passed away last night.
- Oh! Sad, indeed. What had happened?
- Fever.
- Fever?
- Yeah. Swine Flu perhaps. Can't say"
- Hm. RIP.

Thus had ended the trail of messages and to be honest, the traces left the minds of most pretty soon as well.

এমন দেশটি কোথাও খুঁজে পাবে নাকো তুমি...

বাংলাদেশ নিয়ে, কেন জানিনা, চিরকালই মনের মধ্যে একটা ফ্যান্টাসি ছিল। তার একটা কারণ সম্ভবত ছোটবেলা থেকে পাড়ায় ক্লাবে বা আড্ডায় ওই বাঙ্গাল-ঘটি, ইস্টবেঙ্গল-মোহনবাগান, ইলিশ-চিংড়ি বা পদ্মা-গঙ্গা (প্রাকৃতিক সৌন্দর্য নয়, ইলিশের স্বাদ বিষয়ক) নিয়ে নিয়মিত খুনসুটি আর ঝগড়াঝাঁটি। আর তাছাড়া বয়স্ক লোকজন কখনো জিগ্যেস করলে নিয়মমাফিক চেনা উত্তরটা দিয়ে দেওয়া, যে হ্যাঁ, আমার বাবা মা দু'পক্ষই আদতে ও'দেশের, আর অতঃপর "ওদেশের কোথায়?"-এর উত্তরে হেথায় ও সেথায়, ইত্যাদি।

বাংলাদেশ ছুঁয়ে দেখিনি কোনদিন। টাকি থেকে নদীর ধারে রেলিং ধরে দাঁড়িয়ে ইছামতী দেখেছি বড়জোর, আর শুনেছি ওপারেই নাকি বাংলাদেশ। এই অবধিই আমার দৌড় আটকে থেকেছে। 

আজকের খবরে অভিজিৎ মৃত। কালকের খবরে অভিজিৎ মৃত্যুঞ্জয় হয়ে উঠুক!

অভিজিত রায়, একজন মার্কিন নিবাসী বাঙালী লেখক, এক “মুক্ত-মনা” চিন্তাধারার লেখক এবং প্রতিষ্ঠাতা, গত ২৬-শে ফেব্রুয়ারি সন্ধ্যেবেলা, অর্থাৎ আজ থেকে ঠিক তিনদিন আগে, বাংলাদেশের একুশে বইমেলা থেকে পায়ে হেঁটে নিজের বাড়ি ফেরার পথে ঢাকা বিশ্ববিদ্যালয়ের ক্যাম্পাস এবং নিকটবর্তী পুলিশ স্টেশনের থেকে ঢিল ছোঁড়া দুরত্বে, জনসমক্ষে চপার দিয়ে কুপিয়ে খুন হয়েছেন। তাঁর স্ত্রী রাফিদা আহমেদ বন্যা , যিনি যেটুকু পরিচয় সোশ্যাল মিডিয়ায় ভেসে আসছে তার পরিপ্রেক্ষিতে বলতে গেলে সার্থকঅর্থেই অভিজিৎ বাবুর সহধর্মিণী, তিনি প্রাণে বেঁচে গেছেন কিন্তু গুরুতর আহত।