Generation Gap

First came the carved walking stick, followed by an old lady. As the bus conductor helped her in, I took her arm and helped on to the seat next to me. She must have been atleast 80. Small, wizened, short hair, saree ankle high. And ofcourse the walking stick. She bought a ticket for Shilpara, a longish way off from where she boarded.

If she can manage to move around by bus (at all) and that too in a sari, perhaps its time I should too. I just so love wearing sarees, but the thought of the commute by mini bus gives me heebie-jeebies. Don't want a situation where the bus conductor says "Here's your ticket didi and here's your sari!"

Soon, a tall well built chap boarded with his tot. The longish seat adjacent to the driver, where i was sitting was full. He stood in front of me and tried to balance himself, his tot, the water bottle and school bag. I picked up the tot and put him nex to me (there was just enough vacant space for him), while the father looked at me gratefully.

The tot on my left, soft, chubby, freshly scrubbed angel, smelling of Johnson baby powder, happily leaned into the crook of my arm that I had placed behind him to prevent him bumping his head on the metal window frame and made himself comfy. And on my other side, the old lady, put an arm on my shoulder to steady herself in the mad bumpy ride! You know, it felt really nice!

Two generations to my left and right and me - the generation gap, in the middle !

Flavor of the week: Werewolves

Although unplanned, there it was. First the amazing Ms. Fred Vargas. I chanced upon one of her books and was elated to find a fresh series to devour, having nearly exhausted, other serial writers of serial killers and criminals. Seeking whom he may devour - a serial killer-wolf on the loose or was it a werewolf? Observe - I said devour!

And hot on its heels, the most unique vampire story (atleast among those I have read or heard of) : The Reformed Vampire support group by Catherine Jinks, although chiefly of and about vampires and busting many a myth, it has a werewolf, a very good looking one!



And lastly, Bitten by Kelley Armstrong - positively swarming with werewolves...and bursting many more myths and creating a few!


Grrrrowwwl! Hungry for more....books that is...(I assume a wolf growls, being the sort who would like to see a wolf, if at all, on Telly and werewolves, not at all).

Pipe dreams

On a new reality show on TV, was watching a contestant with improperly formed hands. He danced with energy and grace. Shiamak Davar thought he was good enough to move onto the second round. Another judge disagreed - his decision was based on the contestant's dance alone.

Arshad Warsi, the third judge said he couldn't say yes to this contestant going ahead because he was different from "us". He said he was sorry but he only knew how to speak the truth. And if he said yes, then it would only because of sympathy.

The contestant said he was no different. He could do everything that others could do. And also dance.

Mr. Warsi said that every one couldn't do everything. He said his lack of height meant he couldn't go for a competition for 6 footers. What in the world???

Different? Isn't that what we all are from each other? Did the dance contest stipulate that only non-disabled contestants could apply? Wasn't dancing capability the only criteria? I haven't read the fine print nor the contract nor the rules. I dont think such a rule can be there and if there is, excluding Persons with disabililty, it is a crime. Atleast in India. Especially since India is now a signatory of the historic United Nations Convention on the Rights of Persons with disability (UNCRPD). Infact India was one of the first signatories. So what? So what indeed?

A signature is only a symbolic gesture. And India's signing means nothing, unless all Indians sign it - in words and deeds.

Equal rights and equal opportunities - then just a pipe dream?

A new bus...no less

Ah the drama of Kolkata. It exasperates us, disgusts us, makes us laugh and ofcourse cry. But it also teaches us resilience, patience. And makes us appreciate the little things of life.

Like today. As I stood in the darkened bus stop (power cut), a bus pulled up which looked like the W-3 (a boon, if it turns up). There was an electronic board with some mundane writing on top and so blinding that I couldnt see the bus number. I had to wait till it drew really close to realise that it was the one I wanted and had to run in, since the bus didn't actually stop, only slowed down. Inside I found two colleagues who had boarded it earlier. New bus (yes, the plastic wrappings were still on, in places). Low suspension, smooth, purring, hand rails in bright yellow, seats in ash and blue, huge non-rattly glass windows with all panes in place. A stop sign above every seat and a first aid box. Oh my god! We ticked off the features one by one. And we giggled in delight and giggled some more at our delight! Only those who have lived with the blue and yellow monsters or red and yellow mini-monsters will appreciate our delight!

A thought did crop up all the in all our minds. How long before? Before, it becomes a ram shackly, jarring, rattling framework, gasping and fuming its way through planet polluto?
Make the most of it dear bus.

Durga departs and Lakhi arrives

Dashami was just 5 days ago...and already its time for Lakhi puja (and I haven't even had the chance to post all the durga puja photos). Lakhi Puja at home has been an annual ritual for many years now, more a fun chaotic get together than religious rite. It would be a FULL house earlier, with all our kith and kin pouring in, now maybe only 3/4 full - all of us grown up, moved away, some casualty of infighting and some new faces. Actually, the preparation started from Dashami itself. It was R's last day off (mine too...but in this context, didn't count) and so both she and Ma got to making tons of khaja. Within the next couple of days, another ton or so off narkel er naru. Then yesterday, she dragged the pidi on which I keep the modem and adapter. It is lakhi thakur's pidi...which will be freshly decorated with alpana .. no not by me. Either R or ma will do the needful.

All along, the pandals were slowly stripped down...only the bare skeletal frame remains...shorn of tinsel and glory. Its a norm. Lakhi puja follows in all Durga puja pandals. After which all traces will disappear till next year.

The road to work this morning (Yup...Gandhiji was probably pleased to see full attendance at work today...and when I came home, found out that the tweeting Mr. Tharoor too had the same thought - but alas, for him, not with the same results - ah obscurity... so blissful) - was lined by stall after stall of Lakhi pratimas of every shape, size and hue.

And a vertiable Lakhi Puja bazaar had sprung up on the tram tracks. The largest rolls of 'thor' (the stem and pith of the banana plant and not the Norse god of thunder) that I had ever seen - as big as a small carpet rolled up; Stalks of sugar cane, banana stalks and leaves, dhan, dubbo, ricketty wooden altars and piris, and more pratimas...tiny ones this time with tinier owls!

A long harried workday...a furious thunderstorm and worse lightening and I am home by 8 - looking forward to some TV and sitting atop my precious wooden chest and blocking the TV with her head hidden by a newspaper (it comes off tomorrow at the puja) is a foot and half tall lakhi on a pedestal with a large white and the cutest owl along side.

Ah! I finally get to eat the khajas and naroos tomorrow and the khichudi and labra and payesh.

Durga Puja Past

So many pandals, so many protimas, so many people, all jostling, eager to lap up every bit of this years Durga Puja...And now, its over. Only photos remain to serve our memory (atleast mine, failing as it is)!


This one is one of my favourite...the clanging of cymbals, the beating of the dhak and the fragrant smoke from the dhuno cast a enchanting spell...

That "Pujo Pujo" feeling...

Last working day before the puja hols. But the puja fever is so infectitious that going to work even on shoshti was enjoyable. Pujo essentials are hard at work, doing their bit to add to that special "pujo pujo" feeling.

Jams - It took us 2 hours from Thakurpukur to Rash Behari - about 12 kms maybe?! Pandal lights - not fully lit yet - still early days or maybe recession? Shehnai - thankgod a few pandals are still airing shehnai. Most are however airing Mahishasur Mardini and somehow spoiling it because it is to be aired only on Mahalaya at 4.30am in the hushed silence of dawn and not amid the cacaphony of a million vehicles, people, claxons, vendors. And Protimas? In the pandals, but still undergoing finishing touches...

(no weapons in Ma Durga's hands, yet!)

And this morning, as my bus slow downed at Kalighat - we found an impromptu dhaki'r haat in full swing, lining both sides of the road! What a sight to behold. People from all over were frantically bargaining, finalising and then moving off with dhakis... how do I know? Well two men got into our bus with two dhakis! That's how. Each dhaki was showing off his skill and yet not a discordnat note despite all the frantic drumming. Added to the pujo pujo feeling. Sigh!