ফ্রেম

সদ্য হারিয়েছি ঠাকুমা কে। কয়েক বছর আগে দুই দাদু কেও। ছোটবেলার বটগাছ, ছায়া যতদিন ছিল, রোদের তেজ টা বুঝিনি। আজ বড় হলাম। মা হলাম। আমার বাবা মা ও ধীরে ধীরে বয়সের হাত ধরে senior সিটিজেন অফ ইন্ডিয়া। আজ বুঝি, সেই শিকড়ের টান। সেই ছায়ার শীতলতা।

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দেয়াল জুড়ে হাসির আলো ছিটিয়ে সকাল হলো

চৌকোনো ফ্রেম - গৃহস্থ প্রেম,হালকা কাঁচের ধুলো।

প্রেশার কুকার-ল্যাপটপ-ফোন, ছুটছে ঘড়ির কাঁটা

হাতের মুঠোয় বালির ঘড়ি, জীবন - বায়োডেটা ।

কুমির ডাঙ্গা, বালির ফটক, রান্নাবাটির হাড়ি

কুলের আচার, শুকতারা বই, বাসন্তী রং শাড়ী;

দাদুর দেওয়া ফাউনটেন পেন,ডায়রি লেখায় মত্ত

ভাঙা টুল এর নিচে লুকানো দিদার আমসত্ত্ব।

ফ্রেম জুড়ে হাসছে সবাই, হাসি যেমন হয়

দাদু, ঠাম্মা, দিদা,দাদুন- আমার তখন নয়।

বালির ঘড়ি আলগা হয়ে কবে,

পিছলে গেছে আঙুল ছুঁয়ে। নীরবে।

চৌকোনো ফ্রেম, ঘুড়ির মতই আকাশ জুড়ে ওড়ে

যে আকাশে শৈশব নামে কখনো ঝুপ করে।

বাষ্প ওঠে চায়ের কাপে, ‘ফাউনটেন’ এর নীলে

চৌকোনো ফ্রেম গল্প লেখায় মেঘ কুড়োবে বলে।

-শতরূপা

Thoughts from my caged wings

It is drizzling outside..thick clouds are rowing across the piece of sky above us and roaring softly like how I tell bedtime story of a lion and his kingdom to my son,hovering just above me, sensing the deep inner peace I am trying to acquire,snatching myself from my own monotony for a few minutes I have. The mini forest of eucalyptus and neem , just next to my balcony is drenching quietly soaking my thoughts into their shivering leaves and nodding branches.

What do I see now for those few mini seconds I blink my eyes? Where do I feel to be….who do I hold hands? What's around me ,music or murmuring breeze or just void silence?

I am sitting on an unknown beach of  Neil Island,my feet dipped into the transparent salty water of unusually quiet Andaman sea. Watching little seashells and crabs exchanging greetings on their arrival to the golden sand.The colony of coral reefs are hallucinating me of the fairy tale kingdoms and their old abondoned forts.

I am in a bus, driving through the desert of Negev in a moonlit night. Silver and black, windy and cold like steel, enough to freeze the soul,my sleepless eyes following the stars but fails to the speeding bus. I left the Mediterranean, that is far behind now.

I am crying silently, without a reason,when it started raining in the Western Ghats...the rainwater washing down the stones and pebbles they laid the road with..no human being near my proximity..but hornbill sitting on that jackfruit tree is crying too.

I am standing in the Sam sand dunes in Jaisalmer , watching the sand dunes changing their shapes with harsh winds while sun is setting promising a dark cold night at desert. The shadow of mine and him and our camel expanding prominently and saying a goodbye before disappearing to the darkness.

I am watching the people meditating at Arvind Ashram in Pondicherry, questioning the history what made the fierce freedom fighter to find his inner peace at this place,by the Bay of Bengal and how thousands of soul reaching here year after year for the same purpose. In search of the inner peace. More I get, more I lust for...more I lust for,more I loose..more I loose ,more I fear...more I fear,more I go far from the peace. I am stirred in the room,where I see hundredsof soul finding their answers.

I am walking by the shore of Red sea, thinking when the crimson sunlight will reflect on the water from the mountain range across, transforming this crystal blue water to be red..the seabed where I was swimming a while back,the depth of the sea,the amazing kingdom living their a life of eutopia ..how they are unaware of surface.

I am waking up in our Innova. I am in Himachal. Snowing has stopped last night, leaving the pine trees standing tall with the Santa Claus white beard and gloves. The gorgeous sun waking up the valley as precious golden green richness and sometimes pale yellow roughness. I can hear the morning prayer from Monasteries.

I am listening to Arabian sea in monsoon. The heavy cloud have made the rogue look grey and sometimes like a used color pallet, messy ,stained,dark. Sometimes it's Goa, sometimes it's Kerala but its bold, strong, wild every time. Banging on the rocky cliffs with old grudge, making me realise how weak,small, unimaginable molecularly small is my existence.

And I stopped breathing for a while. I need to soar the sky, but the rain isn't stopping. My mind is full of clutter, and soul is strained behind these walls. Even a monsoon couldn't drench me now.

The Secret Life of 'PAT'( parent and toddler)

After your 9 months of pregnancy and initial 3 months of induction period ( to get accomodate with the new homo sapiens you brought to the world), the word ‘ Motherhood’ gets a facelift.

So from this point of time,a mother becomes a multipurpose autonomous machine,a multilingual ( normal human languages and language the baby understands differs,yeah!),multitasker (will come to that point later),break resistance (and also lifetime warranty except manufacturing defects), low maintenance but highly efficient, low or no budget, 24×7 available vending and serving machine. Aghhhh..!

We all dream about our rosy days with our cute baby(ies), a house full of cartoons and toys, babies just waking up to eat,play,pee and sleep again! What else can they do at max? A naughty baby! Oh even the word sounds so adorable. And then you cuddle your new born to share your warmth and his soft baby skin let you forget a bad day in seconds.

Then comes a day,you are elated to see your little bundle can turn sides and in few months he is able to sit up on his own. You send his photos over social medias to your friends and families to share your joy. And just then, a mother becomes transponder with all the qualifications I mentioned in the beginning.

Especially if you are a mother with no helping hand at home, or your parents are not nearby and it's just your husband who is the other adult available in proximity when he is not at work. And you spend 10-12 hours a day with your toddler.

Here are few excellent situations I can think of:

1. You don't need a gym: people ask me why am I so thin, and I always give credits to the running treadmill we have at home, it's just that he runs everywhere from kitchen to pick utensils from shelves, to the toilet to wipe the toilet seat, to bedroom to fetch his mamma's comb and cream.

2. You don't have luxury to wash hair everyday, sometimes once in ten days:  If someone asks me how do I maintain my longhair, I feel may be the municipality manholes are better maintained in the city! Lol. Gone are those days when you get to shampoo two times a week,and then a perfumed conditioner to feel the softness in your locks,and then occasional visits to parlor for extended services. I thank to my luck if I get 30 free minutes a week to wash my hair and get it combed peacefully !
3. You don't have privacy to respond to the nature's calls,  alone behind closed door : Well you have choices- a) either you close the door, let him pull the shelf,throw the stuffs,falls down on ground and cry loudly until you pick up or more horrible scenarios OR b) you make him sit in front of bathroom door and keep the door open and whatever you are doing you just keep talking to him to make him sit there for 5 minutes or less. LIFE is SIMPLE !
4. You have no fixed lunch times : As babies grow up,the neurones sparks more energy and their brains always send signals to keep awake and play around whole day. And you are in race with their freshly made extra smart and super fast neurones. Hence the best way to survive the race is to reschedule your routine according to them. If he sleeps at 10 in morning,take bath,clean the mess he just created,cook food, make arrangements for dinner,boil his milk,keep his lunch ready and if he is still sleeping better you have lunch then.    If he sleeps at 3 pm, finish your lunch and steal a small nap like a thief in your own house.
5. You have ached shoulder, stiff neck, numb arms: Pain is your new friend, your body comes with a limitation of physical strength and sometimes you reach the threshold and try to slog at the end of the day. Result is your body parts are crying for a rest and you are depriving it.  But, that's OKAY! Remember you are a transponder - multi-tasker, break resistance, low maintenance!
6. Your patience level touches moon : You are not the same human anymore who used to curse the autowala for charging 10/- extra, or who used to yell about the traffic in Bangalore. You have more patience to absorb things that are better and ignore the clutter.

Well I could have written more, but you see my baby has just woke up from his precious morning nap time and I have to rush now.

Before leaving, let me tell you one thing.

In returns of all these hardships all we want is a healthy smiling baby, who will come running to us and cuddle with their tiny arms. Who will grow up fast and will be independent and they will have their own space. Until then, let's make the most of it as this time,as precious as God, will never come back!

The Richer and Poorer

Who decides who is rich and who is a beggar?

Who can tell how life makes a man richer than a rich or poorer than a poor?

Who fixes the deal between a penny and a beggar's hand?

Story 1#

It was the month of April, not a peak season for flyers. The man in flat number 210 was checking out cheap flights to fly back home this summer, considering it will be significantly hot in the western part of India. However tickets might come easy to pocket. But still he finds, for three people up and down, the amount is endangering his next month's post tax deduction cash in hand, his daughter’s annual school fees to be paid in next 2 months and the next installment of their house.

Bimol, the security guard from the North East , sitting in the parking lot area of the same building was thinking about his bank balance. It's been 12 years he is in this city. With his 10k salary package he has been managing father's treatment in the native, brother's higher studies and now he has a baby. So this April he will leave the city forever to reunite with his family. His next plan? Well not thought so much, he might buy an auto and give his tractor to rent or he can also drive . As of now, last time he leaves the city he wants to make it big. So this time, no, he's not gonna spend 4 nights in 3 tier sleepers.

After an hour..

The man shuts down his laptop, cancelling the tour plan in dejection.

Just then, Bimol rings the doorbell of 210. The man opens the door. Bimal handed over 6000/-  cash,‘ sir ji, mera flight ticket karwado zara, ye raha ticket ka paisa, advance ( slaying his broad wrinkled smile)’.

#Story 2

It's 5 days to celebrate Diwali. Avinash retired from his office 4 months back. This is the first Diwali in 30 years he won't need to apply leaves to visit his ailing parents. He won't be buying new clothes for the orphanage his father was running for last couple of years; it was such an 'unnecessary expenditure’ he used to complain all the time. After many years , this time he wouldn't argue with mother on selling the old rusty house and settling down with him comfortably.

This Diwali, Kalki has got a new home, a new room, and 12 sisters.This Diwali they will lighten up the aangan with Diyas and there will be their Dada and Dadi…..Smiling from the beautiful black n white frame.

This Diwali, they are no more.

#Story 3

Vignesh is famous in his class. Not because he always brings 100 in math, but because of his tiffin box. The ordinary stainless steel made square lunch box, two tiny compartments inside.His box always contains tastiest aloo ki sabji or yummy sabudana khichdi. And often he unfolds surprise coconut ladoo under the chappatis.

Rihanna, the biggest fan of his lunch box,is secretly so jealous of him. She gets 100 Rupees everyday to buy lunch in the canteen.

Maya ordered a corn spinach sandwich and a small shot of espresso. The waitress returned with cappuccino. Wrong table. Furious customer.Maya complained to the manager, made a scene about how uneducated unorganised the waitress is, in the crowded coffee shop.

Unknowingly…...Rihanna's mother took a revenge for the tasty dabba her daughter was jealous of. That night Vignesh announced 'Ma when I grow up I won't let you work in that coffee shop again!’

Love where you live, live where you love

02.01.2010, that was the date.I boarded my first flight and my father too. It was morning 06.50 AM flight, Kolkata to Bangalore, Kingfisher Airlines.

Now the airlines does not operate any more, so does my grainy memory,on the flight experience. Only things I remember are I got a window seat, saw the clouds above the sky and then the sky above the realm of clouds. In-flight idli-sambar-chutney did showed the upcoming trailer of the city cuisine.

And yes. I was strangely more excited than nervous, it was the first time I was out of the comfort zone of home yet I was surprisingly confident and charged up to see what's next.

7 years passed by ever since I landed up here in this city. 7 years which delivered the most critical turning points of my life.

First cubicle bearing my name plate,

First laptop I bought and hugged like a baby,

First time I braved to live alone in a flat,

First ticket I bought and I travelled alone,

My first blog- first grammatical mistakes,

My first guitar- first chord out of tune,

My first camera- first disaster in lightmeter,
My first child and how I met his father,

My first car and my hilarious confidence.

In 7 years  conversations like “ I am from Kolkata, live in Bangalore” has been slowly changing to “in Bangalore where I stay, life is…”.

My macher jhol ( fish curry) -rice has somehow got engaged with akki roti and green chutney and they are soon to be married in one plate one day.

Surprisingly at this point of time, I have less Bengali friends in this city than number of friends who doesn't speak Bengali. And that's wonderful. Over the years, living with them,sharing my room,my desk,cubicles,lunch table, weekends have made me realise language doesn't matter. For that matter I still talk aweful hindi ( yes the usual gender + verb problems of ‘ti’ and 'ta’) but that never made my day bad.

This city has taught me how to live baggage free, how to travel luggage free, how to take responsibility,pay bills,save money,look into the maps,plan trips overnight, search house,pack up and unpack your household again and again, live with anyone who's a stranger but as stranger as you, and also how to live alone if needed.

Bangalore is changing fast, so do I.

Greenery and open fields, those beautiful walking lanes of BTM and J P Nagar are converting to traffic lanes, 9 km E city flyover doesn't give the best view it used to give 6 years back, Corner House has increased their rates, 13th Floor is always crowded nowadays, the old lady of the kachori shop in HAL market is not there any more,and so is the 6th Ballygunge Place in Indira Nagar, amazing 144 happened last year and how it shut down life for 48 hours,Bangalore traffic time that surging like global warming, and so do the price of a mere 700 sq feet flat in residential areas.

Most of the old good friends have left the city, all scattered here and there. Facebook, Watsapp failed to bridge the gap between coffee cups we left in office pantries or over a weekend adda.

Memories always make me write same old nostalgic melodrama. May be 7 years made me old, not to blame my greying hair.

So ,here is the final line:

When life gives you “Bangaluru” , cheer up” Namma Bangaluru”