Spring comes marching in ...

... with a view that fills my heart with delight! The leaves on the mango tree can scant be see so full of manjari  it is!

Postcards by Nandalal Bose

Akar Prakar brings a fabulous exhibitions - Postcards by Nandalal Bose. It was such an immense pleasure going through the rich collection, seeing the drawings, often accompanied by his comments in bengali and that thrill to see the master signing off as "Nanda"!

Its a beautiful world, indeed

West Bengal Hasta Shilpa Mela (Handicraft Fair) - artists and their art from all over West Bengal - the infinite variety, the sheer artistry and skill on display. Mind boggling.

Brass work

Talk Bangla Talk

When I returned to Kolkata in 2008, one of the things I loved the most was the luxury of speaking and being completely understood and responded to, in bengali.....This is kolkata, after all.

For quite some time after that, it would take me by surprise and I’d feel a childish elation each time, I spoke to a taxi driver, a passer by, in the bank, at the movie hall in bengali....what fun. (Except Inox Forum where everyone stubbornly sticks to English...).

This was almost like the fun and the thrill that even the smallest of conversations in french would bring to me, when I was in France! Except its been three years that I am back and yet, cabbies, bus conductors, auto drivers, shop assistants will speak to me in Hindi. Even if I reply in Bengali, they will try out their best hindi on me!

Belated Durga Puja Post

The Durga Pujas.That Annual break for all in West Bengal (and elsewhere too wherever there are Bengalis, worldwide)!

four days of no deadlines, no work pressure, total standstill. And what a pleasure it is, year after year.

However, this Durga puja, I did not visit a single pandal, not even my para pujo – Maddox Square. Did not venture out for pandal hopping in the wee hours of the morning or late at night or at any other time. In fact, did not feel the slightest pang on missing out on Singhi Park, Tridhara Sammelani, Chaltabaga, Mohammad Ali Park… Nothing!

Does that mean I did not enjoy the pujos? Ofcourse not. I did. But in a different way.

Met up with pals for a long over due no holds barred Adda seesions but spaced out properly – one per day. The rest of the day was spent lazing at home – family lunch – something rarely done since I am always at work or on tour; post lunch siesta, half asleep with the anandamela puja barshiki, watching a rerun of a feluda (Kakababu was an added bonus).

Both maids were on leave so rolling out rotis with ma, catching the matinee show of the puja release Baishe Shrabon at Priya and being pleasantly surprised at its watchability; strolling on the chhad in the evenings watching the lights of the various pandals casting a grayish hue to the night sky. Cell phone being jammed with subho bijoya messages!

Ah! Abaar Ashche bochor! And with it perhaps another new way of enjoying the pujas?!

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!

Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder?

Compared to most metros, Kolkata scores badly. Forget cities abroad, it is an eyseore when compared to other towns in India. Hoping for an improvement might be a waste of time. But there is hope even in all this ugliness. Infact, we must be one of the most hopeful people around!

People who come from beautiful cities say like Paris, might be upset at the slightest ugliness and which might completely spoil their day! The reverse happens here. We become desperate seekers of beauty and find it in places which won't be normally visible. A rusty broken wrought iron railing in a dilapidated building from the turn of the century, the pale purple of maybe two krishnachura blossoms peeping shly among ugly hoardings, half a road with perfect stretch of pavement, blue sky among three tall palms in front of the mint (which is all one can see in between busy large public buses), that twisty stretch on Bardhaman road, those dusty antiques furnitures piled on the sidewalk obscuring the incredibly squalid stretch on either side, one yellow blossom on a tree, half a window with green venetian slats ( khor-khori), the potholed pavement now white with siuli blossoms which must have fallen overnight.

All the mansards roofs cannot make us as happy as the mearest glimpse of any of these which is quite enough to gladden our hearts!

Cold Comfort

When it is 36 degrees but feels like 47 degrees.

Season for Hope

Its that time of the year. Again. Hot-sticky-unbearable. Not to mention that this "time" is actually the better part of the year.

And this is the time when hope which is supposed to spring eternally in the human breast, fairly bounces in the Bengali breast. We hope that the sticky day will end in a cool breezy evenings. that there will be a magnificent Kaal boishakis to soothe our frayed nerves. And maybe even win in IPL3 (no, no not the IPL3 itself...but perhaps tonight's match against Delhi Daredevils?)!

It also means a lot of other things which we need not be hopeful about like tauk daal, teto daal, soothing dalnas and light curries, of aam pora sarbat, yogurt and the like. It is also the time for sweet mango chutney made from unripe mangoes! Aah!

And imagine my delight at the smallish mango tree in our office compound sprouting little green mangoes! My delight was shortlived...as a colleague pointed out a neat not so little wasp's nest among the branches. Hmm. But I am hoping to get a few without disturbing the wasps.

You can't see the wasp's nest...but it is there...lurking among the mangoes.

In the meanwhile, here are my recipes for Aam Pana and Lemon dal and Mango relish!

PS - Keeping my fingers crossed - mostly for KKR's win tonight and tomorrow I will concentrate on the wasp's going away.

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!

Durga Puja, here is it?

That golden sunlight of sharod? That crush of last minute shoppers, pandals coming up hinting tantalising of the fantastic shapes and forms they will eventually reveal and giving rise to horrific jams along with the shoppers. And then what? All of Kolkata and surrounding districts (all 19 of them) jostling, shoving, elbowing their way everywhere ... on roads, lanes, gullies, shops, footpaths, pandals...

And that eternal dilemma - To go see the pandals (a very wearisome, tiresome, pain inducing - head, bone and joints, knees and in a multitude other places...the thrill of having seen incredible pujos and irritation at not being able to describe it to those who havent) or not to go and sit at home, not achy all over... except perhaps in the heart... and feeling curiously flat and left out. Is this then, the pujo'r amej?

Well its been so hot and sticky with some furious but short spells of rains...not much golden sarad sunlight. And the crowds...well they have been curiously absent...even though we have been returning home each night quaking with fear of getting stuck. Hasnt' happened yet. Even the pandals are snailing their way up. Are not even causing any traffic jams...Usually by this time, one would be able to tell what each pandal would be like. . And I find myself missing it all...the empty roads, the bamboo-rope-canvas pandals look so naked and sad and we are verging on Panchami...which is tomorrow. Were the build up to the pujas ever so silent? Ever so frenzy-less? Ever so not chaotic?

Then I come home, look out the window and see among dark trees, under a cloudy sky, the Maddox Square pandal - finished at last...standing white, serene in the dark calm of night .... waiting for the rush, from tomorrow or perhaps day after...

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.

Cyclone Aila hits West Bengal, Kolkata

Photo courtesy CNN IBN

Aila hit Kolkata, 24 Parganas south around 11 am with winds 100 -120 kms per hour. Trapped as we were at work...while Aila created havoc. There was a brief lull around 5:30, where we could exit and make our way home through roads turned green from branches and leaves strewn and crushed under wheels. Uprooted posts, torn wires and hoardings by the wayside and a marked absence of public buses and autos...we were the lucky ones. Many weren't so. Reports are still coming in of the number of dead and injured.

And although the storm has apparently moved away from Kolkata, its still extremely blustery outside and heavy rains expected.

Cyclone Aila pounds Orissa, West Bengal

Coastal Orissa badly hit by cyclonic storm

Aila takes away monsoon rain from peninsular region

Post Poll Scenario: Silence

There is a total silence all around. Even the post poll analysis (explaning away of the loss as well as the jubiliation of winning) seems to be muted and half hearted .. on both sides.

A furious, enormous, all consuming tug of war was on...straining and draining all - party workers & bosses, by standers, aam junta et al, with no one was willing to cede an inch. And then yesterday, it was all over. One side found themselves dragged accross the dividing line and the other - flat on their back, rope in their hands ... won!

Sunday will then be spent in quiet contemplation as the realisation of loss and win sinks in.

Election Eve

Campaigning reached fever pitch over the weekend. The two main parties started plastering the city with gory pictures of burnt and cut bodies each claiming as the other's handiwork. Meetings and rallies were doubled or perhaps tripled.

On Saturday (temperature 41.8) as we whizzed down DH road entered and exited several airwaves: 1st a CPM meet blaring about "Bicchinotabadi (separatist) politics" and while I could wondered if Bengal was to be partitioned once again and how - west west bengal and east west bengal or north west bengal and south west bengal, we hit TMC air space - with Nandigram and Singur and into another left party meet (couldn't see the party banner -- we were hurtling past) shouting about the merits of a certain "netri" - who else but mamati di. A quick stop to unload a passenger and we had an earful of "cows smuggled in from bangladesh and about a cow abbatoir" - BJP meet and lastly (for that stretch) a meet of Gramin Chikitsak Samiti who were going on and on about a healthy government prosob (delivery) kora.

More of the same on Sunday -- which was HOTTER. And this time, at least one party felt the heat too. They had apparently set up a meeting around 10:00am at Lake Market but seeing no takers and probably all half dead with sun strokes, departed, flags, chairs, podium, mikes and all after only half an hour or so!!

And then the skies opened poured down on everyone's meeting and rallies as the deadline for campaigning came up on Monday afternoon. (I think even the party workers were secretly relieved).

Today has been very pleasant. It rained and rained and rained. Its nice and cool now - atleast 10 to 12 degrees cooler. And it has been a relief. Only the normal city noises - cars and buses and horns and general buzz of 9 million residents ... but those are constant fixtures and dont count. No loudspeakers, no michils, no rallies and no new hoardings. Ah! till tomorrow, these 48 hours will be the quitest for a very long time...perhaps for the next 5 years - since normally there is atleast a couple of orators on any given day in Kolkata blaring about something or the other.

More and more buses went off the road on "election duty". That meant general harrassment for commuters...but we are used to cramming into ancient boxes on wheels (something like the cramming into telephone booth fad of ancient times). Many were secretly thankful of the lesser number of buses: They could lead early from work. No seriously, many have had to face this problem today and many are still stuck at bus stops. However, the weather is now helping to somewhat smoothen the wait.

But I think we are going to miss all the crazy hoopla surrounding the elections - all other countries and perhaps even those in rest of India pales at our theatrics! We are going to miss the news bulletins of presiding officers caught skulking off (after poll hours) with the electronic voting machines and the strange tale of some 100 odd officials being transported somewhere on poll duty and all of a sudden they were off loaded from the bus which then zoomed off and these stranded officials blocked the road and created a ruckus!!

We vote tomorrow - in this final and last stage of voting - and hope that this will be the last session for these elections and there will be no need for re-polls.

Kakdip and back...

Had to go to Kakdip yesterday (on work)... and within half an

hour we were able to leave planet polluto behind and
hit the long and not so narrow road...

Drink in the greenery

Reach our destination, meetings, agenda, action plans, good homely
lunch, power cuts without the sweat and grime....and leave

with one last look at the still ponds

Stop by the sunflowers

Wave goodbye to Kakdip bashis


and there she was larger than life...
about to step into a scum filled pond....
to bring us back to reality...



Omnipresent Didi

Poll Tales

The battle now is at fever pitch. The effects are getting to us - am currently down with fever - the daily onslaught of a 1000 blaring mikes, posters, banners, hoardings, flyers, processions, meetings is as bothersome as the hot humid weather.

It had began sedately enough but gained momentum, the battle being mainly between TMC & CPM (but ofcourse). A few lotuses here and there and I think I saw one hoarding (smallish) of Pranab Mukherjee. Local para Party offices opened up - CPM and TMC have theirs in ground floors of vacant buildings at right angles to each other, near my office.

BJP is content to a few flags tied to posts at the bus stand, accross the Diamond Harbour Road - which are there one day and gone the next.

With about 2 weeks remaining, the final onslaught is on. Work keeps me to this side of Kolkata and so I don't know what the scenarios are in traditional CPM strongholds - but unless they come up with something drastic, TMC seems to be winning the battle (of visibility) hands down!

Didi's is everywhere...Slightly larger than life size cut outs are dotting the landscape. There is one just down the Kalighat bridge - on your right. In her white saree, peering in through over hanging branches...standing a top a small cement stoop...like she is about to hail a bus and step in!

And yesterday - the Coup de Grace: I got the schock of my life when I looked out of the bus window and saw didi, hands folded, serenely suicidal in the middle of the tram tracks. On a closer look ... it was a cutout in the space between the tracks ...but pretty effective one!

How do others or even TMC itself top this? Atleast the others have the option of saying that they don't indulge in such gimmicks! But hey...if nothing else, it does provide much needed comic relief.

Not much Kolkata in Knight Riders

And there it was: Sourav won't be the captain of Kolkata Knight Riders - rotating or not. Brendan McCullum it would be.

At once the IPL balloon punctured for me. I was amazed at what I was feeling. I tried telling myself that its only a game and one which to my frequent angst gets way too much attention than any other sport in India; that it will be over in a month or so and life will simply move on for everyone including Sourav. And there are more important things in life. But I couldn't dislodge the stiffling pall of gloom which descended. I didn't feel like indulging in a screaming, shouting angry rant against everyone (real or imagined) who was responsible for it. Lost some interest in IPL.

What's left in KKR then? Only the KR? SRK's KR? John Buchanan's KR?

I did try to leave work early to catch the 2nd match last night and made the mistake of telling the auto driver to go super sonic fast: which he did: and had all of us speechless with fright - but I came home with 15 minutes to spare. Watched Chennai lose to Mumbai, saw Dimitri Mascarenhas's fantastic bowling in the first over. And yet that thrill I felt at the last IPL wasn't there. South Africa must have fantastic facilities, everything ship-shape, no power failure (like at Edens last year) but somehow -- that crazy passion wasn't there. Just not the same as seeing it happen in your own hometown (and not only at Eden, but anywhere else in the country), the hordes of manic about cricket fans. That palpable excitement, buzz, build up, the collective agony and ecstacy...not there.

I will be watching the 1st KR (and not so Kolkata KR) match tonight. (hurt and betrayed as I feel...eeeks....can that be me? Aparently it is....despite my telling myself its only a game)!