An evening of Pandavani

We was thrilled to get tickets for Pandavani performance and by no less an artiste than Teejan Bai. This was a part of the Lokaranga (a folk theatre festival) organised by Kasba Argha.

Somehow, all 6 of us managed to beat the crazy traffic and reach Madhusudhan Mancha on time. The enormous hall was fully packed with quite a few known faces - actors - film and theatre.

First, Sima Ghosh, disciple of Teejan Bai presented the Abhimanyu Chakravyuhu episode. The acoustics were not too great and the music and chorus drowned out Sima in parts. However, it was not difficult to follow her at all and everyone was rapt.

The Kurukshetra battle field came alive in front of my eyes and a young Abhimanyu, wounded, all weapons destroyed, weilding a chariot wheel as the last resort, fatally trapped inside the Chakravyuha (like I and a million others read in Amar Chitra Kathas of our childhood). When Sima Ghosh heralded his death with a long drawn out Abhimanyu, I was jolted back from Kurukshetra to find Sima on the stage and her percussionists and accompanists seated on a dias.

There was a brief interval, during which we were requested not to step outside because there were others who had not got tickets outside who were a bit upset.

Teejan Bai presented Karan - Arjun Samvad and right from her entry to the tragic end of Karnadani, she was arresting. Dressed in a red sari, black choli, silver amulets, armbands, anklets, her jet black hair in a long plait belied her age (she claimed she was aged). But given her tumultous life, 50 plus would be like a very long life time. As she unravelled the tragic tale of Karna-dani fighting his last battle against Arjun and his charioteer Sri Krishna, we held our collective breath. As she finished, the applause was not as thunderous as should have been given the packed audience. But that I realised was more because we were stunned.

The organisers asked the 'vishist atithi' Aparna Sen (who had come to see the performance) to come up on stage and present a bouquet to Teejan Bai. Some one from the audience called out that she has gone. 'Chole geche'. The organiser then requested Purna Das Baul to do the honours. Which he did. This was the only discordant note in the entire evening. No disrespect meant to Ms. Sen, but one legendary folk singer to another, Purna Das Baul should have been the first and obvious choice.

Teejan Bai waited patiently, through it all. But then poray bhebay dekhlam all this disorganised ness is the hallmark of all things Indian and not take into account. The audience appreciated the performance who in turn appreciated the audience's enjoyment, and all other irritants, were swept away.

Through a glass, darkly!

Just before the Pujas, there was a sudden spurt of dark glasses (glares), of late. Definitely not the latest Durga Puja fashion. Wasn’t to keep the merciless sun out of our eyes either. Infact the weather, to our collective suprise, was rather nice and continued to be so throughout the Pujas.

Oh that annual event: conjunctivities or Joy Bangla as it is known here. It comes around every year just like chicken pox, heat waves, durga pujas etc without fail.

The dark glasses were every where, just every where hiding red, watery eyes. And since the hands are the most common medium for infection one kept wondering if one had accidentally touched something possibly infected and then rubbed one's eyes. All one had to do is wash one's hands frequently, but just about around this time, ones eye-hand coordination goes for a toss.

And not to mention the imaginary itching, swelling, watering of the eyes. These are enough to make you feel rather ill. Worse is waking up one morning and finding out that these symptoms were not imaginary afterall!

It did the rounds at my work place. One by one, quite a few of my colleagues got conjunctivities. All kept wondering who would be next. However, I managed to get through the puja hols unscathed.

On monday, the day after Bijoya Dashami, we returned to our office to find big boss in large butterfly glares. Oh ho! Boss and I were taking a train to Bhubaneswar the next day for a planning meet. All at work were convinced (and quite gleefully) that it was my turn.

She asked me quite a few times if we should cancel this meet. No way. As it is, the meeting should have happened 20 days earlier. Shortly after, Ashok - he drives the NGO jeep - too was prancing around in fake but really hip glares. I tried to put up a brave front and tried to make light of it - " Both Gabbar and Sambha's got joy bangla", all the while wondering "aab tera kya hoga kaalia?"

Fortune however favours the bold. Our meeting went well. We got a comprehensive plan chalked out for the next couple of months; we ate some good kebabs at Khaja Chowk and were back in office, sans joy bangla! Bach gaya ... atleast for this year!

The many faces of Ma Durga

Please click on the photos for an enlarged view. All photos courtesy Jayantanuj Ghosh.

A sporting chance

All the brouhaha about the CGW Delhi 2010. The paw prints on the bed, the leaky roofs, the Rs. 6000 toilet rolls. Would it ever get finished on time? Will it meet "international" standards? Will the international athletes approve? Will we as a nation, be able to rise to the ocassion?

Well the answers to all of the above was a resounding yes.

However, it struck me as terribly terribly sad. I was not angry or upset at the rest of the world questioning India's ability to organise such an event. Every question just made me sadder.

Look at all our Indian athletes and sportspersons. Does anyone in India ever think of them? Has the government shown an iota of concern for them? Why should Indian athletes have to wait for CWG for world class stadias and facilities?

We should have been disqualified at the very outset. We are one of the most unsporting nations in the world. Except cricket. No, I am not talking about the sportsmen or athletes. Look at the pitiable state of affairs in regional or even national sports. Look at the outlays, the facilities, the total apathy. Ours sportspersons are handicapped even before they can begin.

And despite it all, they performed and how; making us proud all the while when we were humiliating them by raising a hue and cry for facilities for international athletes. I apologise to all of you - you are the real sports, all of you.

Seeing the medal haul, there I was thinking that perhaps things will look up for the non cricket sports and sports persons in India.

However, just days after the closing ceremony, we find a buzz about the boxing arena in the Talkatora stadium being removed to make way for the AICC meet. The boxers for the Asian Games can well box else where. Afterall, they are not really used to such "international" facilities are they? And these were not really for them, were they?

Joyous Bangla

The golden sunlight has been missing this pujas. First there was unbearable heat and humidity and then massive depression over bay of bengal and the rains. The rains have stopped but the weather is wonderful. There is a very pleasing breeze what is so aptly called "Phur-phure" in Bengali.

And ofcourse, the atmosphere.
Like any other morning, I am sitting at my PC at 7am in the morning, a pleasant morning, with the news on the TV, birds chirping outside and the curtains swaying in the phur-phure breeze.

It does not matter a bit that I have to go to work today. It does not matter that I haven't seen any pandals yet. It does not matter that I will (like millions other) wade, jostle, elbow, fight and possibly stomp and gnash my way through the mother of all jams. All bengalis have been infected (no - not speaking about conjunctivities known as "Joy Bangla" which is sweeping Bangla and infact neighbouring Assam as well) by that inexplicable feeling of joy, happiness, elation, expectation and general bon homie. Joyous Bangla!

Happy Sashti to all of you!

PS- All the pix were taken early am (in final stages of preparation)