Theatre of the Absurd...

... The first thing that popped into my head when I read about Behenji's statue making and installing spree.

The term Theatre of the Absurd (French: Théâtre de l'Absurde) was coined by the critic Martin Esslin, and was the title of his book first published in 1961. Samuel Beckett, Arthur Adamov, Eugène Ionesco, and Jean Genet were presented by Esselin as the four defining playwrights of the movementand later on Harold Pinter.

As per Wiki: Though the term is applied to a wide range of plays, some characteristics coincide in many of the plays: broad comedy, often similar to Vaudeville, mixed with horrific or tragic images; characters caught in hopeless situations forced to do repetitive or meaningless actions; dialogue full of clichés, wordplay, and nonsense; plots that are cyclical or absurdly expansive; either a parody or dismissal of realism and the concept of the "well-made play".

These playright have company: Behenji. How else does one justify crores already spent from the state exchequer on statues of Behenji, Kanshi Ram, Ambedkar and as per TOI reports - Elephants (her party's symbol)? And all this is unfolding not in a theatre somewhere...but in Uttar Pradesh...in India. All's the world a stage apparently for Ms. Maya.

There is a famous bengali skit where Bhanu Bannerjee was told that his statue would be installed...he declined the offer saying what would it serve except for crows and eagles ****ing on his head.

Obviously Behenji had not taken that into consideration nor thought it important enough to consider the proverbial excreta hitting the fan.

But moot point is, like her name says it all, everything in this world is afterall....Maya (illusion)!

More here on Theatre of the Absurd

Historical or History?

I have always liked going to the zoo – liked the idea that is. The last time I went to a zoo was in Paris in 2003 – to Jardin Des Plantes, very close to where I lived.

Time constraints, work pressure and distance have ensured that it has remained just that - a plan. I tried to in Delhi but in vain. Here in Kolkata, I keep passing the Alipore Zoological Gardens and keep making mental plans to visit it.

Yesterday, I went visiting my pals and the weather being cloudy and overcast, we decided to visit the zoo along with their two bubbly kids (they, I am sure would say that "bubbly" would be the understatement of the century).

Atlast was the chance to relive the thrill of my childhood visits to the zoo. For M & S, it was a place of fond memories of another kind – a frequent haunt during their courtship days – a place so far away and so not-on-the-agenda-of-family that it was the securest and best place for many a romantic tryst.

All of us were in for a shock. The oldest zoo in the country and inaugurated on January 1, 1876 by Edward VII, then Prince of Wales no less Overgrown, unkempt,empty broken cages and pens? What little animals there were, were all asleep, comatose even. What was this ruin?

There - that's where I had thrown a handful of peanuts to the large bear and one had landed just out of the bear's reach. Clever thing, put its snout close to the grill and inhaled deeply and the peanut rolled inside and it to its paws! And over here...the lajja bati bandors - who would cringe and try to merge with the foliage. And over there were the tigers - son of Rupa and Deepak, mother of Rani and Raja, (Which had prompted R, my sis to ask in a very loud for a 4 year old voice - "Ma, do tigers get married?")!!

Look, M would frequently stop to say, we sat there on the grass; And we ate ice creams over there on the stepsthere and remember when we bumped into a cousin...

Not just our memories. These and a million other wonderful happy memories....all buried under debris, litter and wreckage. It would have been tolerable had things altered, made way for the better. We would have sighed at "modernization" but would be happy about the changes.

The reptile house was once such a big draw. And now, we had to squint through the ill lit dirty panes of the glass cases to find, if at all, a lethargic snake curled up in the innermost recess.

And Adwaita the 250 year old turtle from Galagagos islands. [He thankgod, passed away and is now in turtle heaven].

And the grounds filled with beautiful old buildings -- now empty, broken down and the ubiquitous gamcha and lungi hanging on a string ... caretaker and family must have moved in.

The crowd was there as were food stalls, selling their wares briskly which meant empty plastic bottles, packets adding to the general litter.

Does nothing work here? Apparently not. I wish I hadn't gone. Atleast I'd still remember the wonderful visits of the past.

I could have done much better if I had sat indoors, surfing like I do on a Sunday and read about the Alipore Zoological Gardens on Wikipedia and went on a trip down memory lane.

Like all things in Bengal, the zoo too is historical. However, History would better describe it. Next on my agenda was the Botanical Gardens. But I think I will spare myself the agony.

Hard work does pay...

Another Sunday - my only day off, began as usual. At the crack of dawn, while everyone caught up on much needed sleep, there I lay wide awake. Argh. How do people stay so late in bed. (Some of my friends even get up post noon). And specially since I don't acheive much ... just loll the day away. Wrists hurting from being at the keyboard (surfing, playing games etc) and eyes all bleary from the PC and or TV while my list of must do things gets bigger and bigger.

So, morning did indeed show the day: Early to rise and loads of things done! [Or didn't show the day considering the fact that I didn't loll the day away]. Right. I think I got the explanation right. Main things was I got some of my must-do chores done. Well actually only one. But by my standards, Herculean.

I rearranged all my books and CDs and atleast 10 large plastic carry bags [which are propped up, collecting dust just about anywhere since all the almirahs and cupboards and filled to bursting]full of old receipts and bills. Dusty, hot and bothered...I was sifting through the last bag when I found a small black leather purse. That one - god. Eons ago, Swa had given it to me when we used to work at the Internet Consultants in Kolkata. Was it as far back as 1998 or 99? Definitely in the last century. I used it constantly for 3-4 years and then shoved it in somewhere and used others. This one, in perfect condition, lay forgotten but moved with me everywhere I went for the last 10-12 years. I opened it up expecting more ancients bills and found unbelievably - 14 crisp 100 Rupee notes!

Hard work does pay...then.

Not to mention the room is looking much cleaner and nicer. And am looking forward to more cleaning and sprucing next sunday: Who knows what treasure lurks unbidden...somewhere?

The nicest of surprises

Gifts are always welcome especially if they are unexpected. Are there any other kinds then? Ofcourse - like at birthdays....they are expected aren't they? But best are the ones which just pop up.

Recently, a group of 16 smart young CBR workers turned up from Nagaland for training on Community Based Rehabilitation at the NGO where I work. Usually I meet trainees only at the begining and end of each work day and briefly at lunch - most of them being holed up in session after session or out on field trips.

One morning I landed up early to find the trainees (they usually stay in dormitories in the campus) finishing breakfast. One of them was deep into a book and as I passed by, I saw it was "The White Tiger" by Aaravind Adiga. I have been waiting for one of the 4 copies of the book at my local library, but in vain. They are always out. "How's the book?", I asked him. "Good", he said. Conversation over, he buried his nose back into the book and I went back to my desk.

Inspite of the fact that I am a member of a library with a rather vibrant collection, I can't help buying books. Somehow, I have resisted buying this book preferring to wait for it to turn up on the returned book shelf. And I have resisted hard. Copies of the gleaming white hard cover book seem to be everywhere - airports, rail stations, book store fronts and even on foot path vendors.I asked him couple of times on the book's progress. Fine was his terse reply.

And then it was their last day with only half a day's session. Session over, they said their goodbyes and disappeared to their rooms to pack and leave to catch their trains back to Nagaland. We (the staff) were all seated in the long dining room for lunch. Suddenly, this young chap - the reader - ran upto me and said, "I finished it", and thrust the book in my hands and left with a hasty "Bye". And there I was, The White Tiger in my hand, mouth agape. I ran upto him and said - "I am not that fast a reader. Don't you have to catch a train this evening"? "No Ma'am - you keep it", he said and as I gushed my thanks (gushing at my age is such a silly thing but I could do nowt but gush) - he bent his head slightly and put a hand on his heart and said - "you are welcome". Needless to say I had a grin plastered on my face for the rest of the day and evening and late into the night!

God bless you, young man! And may some one else thrust another book that you have been waiting for, one day - it's, I tell you, the nicest of surprises.

Jumping for joy (jamruls)

A long drawn out monthly manager's meeting...8 of us 'managers' in turn updating the Director and other manager on the status of projects we were each responsbile for. Can't say it was very enthralling stuff. Difficult sitting through other's updates...and I was 7th in line. Yawn.

As I shifted in my seat for the nth time, I looked out of a window on the other side and spied pale white jamruls (love apple, star apple, wax apple) with just the barest tinge of green. Was the tree inside our compound or on the neighbours? Atlast the meeting which began at 10.30 am drew to a close at 4. I rushed downstairs with a cup of tea in my hand and there it was - a tree laden with jamrul. Thoka-thoka would be the word for laden in bengali and somehow, it was exactly that. 'Laden' just couldn't do justice to the sight I beheld!! I cajoled Ashok the driver to give me a hand. Using a long forked stick (which was conveniently at hand), Ashok bent the branches laden and I plucked the jamruls. Very soon, I had enough for all (nearly 40 of us) with plenty still left on the higher branches. We went around distributing them to all and everyone said that these were the sweetest jamruls they had eaten in a long while.

I took my share (one) and kept it on my desk and got busy with the actually work (as opposed to meeting about work which we spent the entire day on). When I finished it was past 8pm. I switched off the lights, fans, PC, locked the room and walked out with my bag, lunch box, water bottle and that solitary jamrul! Funny, I never go ga-ga about jamrul normally. Rarely do I actually buy them from the market to eat. But getting them fresh off the tree was so much fun. The whole office was empty. Nearly. No one upstairs and only Prabirda downstairs, who usually leaves much after the rest as he waits for the night guard to arrive. I gave the last one to him along with the entire adventure (much more interesting than 'hey I went to the bazaar and bought a packet of jamruls)! I walked out without having tasted a single one but seriously I felt like I had eaaten the entire packet by myself!