January 11, 2010
Filed under: Behind the screen..., Friends..., Funny!!!, uuphh yeh life!!! — chapters @ 11:51 AM
Meet my friend Shalu...
It is not always that you meet a “tall-dark-handsome” guy in your life. It happens once in a blue moon and on that holy day (Coincidently, it was a BLUEMOON on 31st December), we, Shalu and me, boarded the train from Howrah to Bhubaneswar. As usual, our coach was filled with irritatingly super-exited Bengalis.
As we sat there with our vehement moods, he appeared out of nowhere. He talked to one of the screeching Bengalis about where they are going with such a hullabaloo. That high-with-excitement-as if- boarding-the-train-for-the-first-time Bengali answered that they were going to Amaravati for some Indian Air Force training. Then he looked at us and we might have looked like a set of shrunken kittens, to which he smiled and asked whether we were also going for the same training. I said, ‘No’… But then Shalu, angry with the high-pitched Bengalis, replied rather rudely that we were going home. After that he did not talk to us. Later, Shalu and I, both realized that he was not a Bengali, but somewhere from South India and he did not belong to the screeching crowd… More over… he was sooooooooooooooo handsome. So we regretted Shalu’s rude behavior which might have been one of the reasons that he did not talk to us throughout the journey.
But Shalu and I were by then, high-spirited and tried in every way to convince him that we are not so rude girls and we were very cheerful (by laughing constantly). But obviously that did not help. He rather paid his full attention to another non-bengali , non-screeching guy and started explaining SAP to him. Shalu tried to distract him by her ‘yeh-reshmi-zulfon-ka andhera-na ghabarayiye’ style by untying her hair; and it did not help. We did not sleep till 1.30 AM, just thinking that he might get interested and start talking to us.
We sat in front of him and kept on trying our best to start a conversation. But he got on to his upper berth and went to sleep where we were still sitting with a hope that he would talk. Then we decided to sleep as our target seemed to be still hurt with Shalu’s rude behavior.
It seemed that, the hunk did not leave us alone in our dreams even. Both shalu and I had dreams about him. Shalu’s dream had a happy ending, that before leaving he left her a letter, written in hindi, with his name and address :). And as of my dream, even if he was there in my dream, I was committed to I~) only…”Sapne me bhi I~) ko dagaa nahi de paayi” hehehe… Shalu is still searching for him. So anybody knowing anyone from south india who is really handsome and travelled in Amaravati Express, coach no s7, berth no 43 on 31st December, 2009 then please let him know about Shalu… 
November 21, 2009
Filed under: Down the memory lane..., Friends... — chapters @ 1:38 PM
- Friends Are Forever
It was one of my friend’s marriage for which we had to go to Puri. Now this friend belongs to my daily “E-Khatti” group. We are 5 girls in that group and we came from the same engineering college, now working in different IT companies and staying different places. It is our practice to contribute to a chain mail that goes on almost every day. We share everything there… It may be a happy-n-good news or some problem anyone of us facing; or it may be just the frustration we are having in the offices or our latest crushes 
. Sometimes, we play antakshari… (Ahem… yes, we are that illogical to play antakshari on chain mails!!!) The topic always changes, from weird to weirdest, but from the last 3 and half years, our “E-Khatti” rocks.
So when the first member ($heetu) from this group got married, that too in Puri, everybody went to attend it. We (me, Raju, Shalu, and Sur) went to Puri. There we had a blast. The guest house, which $heetu had arranged for us, had a long corridor facing the sea. Even the hotel where the wedding was going on was situated in front of the sea. We had a rocking time on the beach while $heetu was busy taking her marital vows. 
We had a gala time wearing saree, where nobody from us knew how to wear the saree properly, but we tried and after 2 and half an hour we managed somehow to go to the reception with our sarees wrapped around us . Raju had used almost a dozen safety pins and she was unable to move 
. Anyhow, we were able to get many photos clicked with our sarees around us.
In the above picture, it’s Raju and me, taking a pleasant look at the sea. After so many days of waiting and planning, we were finally there and enjoyed to the full. We also took a vow that; we will try our best to come to Puri together whenever we get a chance. It was such a reviving trip for me and it will be engraved there in my thoughts till we meet again at Puri. With the hope of meeting again and that too at Puri, we came back to Bhubaneswar and the next day I took my train to Kolkata. Throughout the journey, while I was sleeping on the upper berth of B1 coach of Puri-Howrah Express, my soul was back there at the sea beach and I know it will be there till some more time.
September 5, 2009
Filed under: Behind the screen..., Down the memory lane..., Friends... — chapters @ 2:13 PM
He came into my life when I was in ninth class and my life changed forever…. L N Sir; That’s what we called him. “Maa”, “Jhia” were some of the terms what he used to call me. He could not remember names. All he remembered were the mathematical formulae and science. Till then I was never into private tuitions. My parents used to teach me at home. But in class 8th, due to some reason, it was not possible for any of my parents to look after my studies. So that year, I scored badly in my final exams. I was really afraid of mathematics and science… so afraid that before exams I caught fever. I could not even finish the entire maths course… forget about revision. So the next year, I joined LN Sir’s group tuition. Another of my friends, Swa, was also going there. We were just 2 girls there in a group of 15/16 students. Swa’s twin brother, San, was also there and he used to be the only guy I knew and talked to.
There, I started to love Mathematics and Science. It was not that I was a poor student. But till then I was just studying to write in the exams. There I gained the knowledge; knowledge so that I can love a subject. LN Sir’s love for the subjects transferred to me… came almost swimming to me. That year I jumped from 8th place to 2nd place in school. I respected LN Sir more than anybody else. I had blind faith on him. And he valued that faith well.
LN Sir was a fair, short height (almost 5′2”), little plump person. He had diabetes… but his love for sweets could never restrict him from eating a piece or 2 sweetmeats. He was a scientist at RRL, Bhubaneswar. Everybody says scientists are mad. I had seen him doing funny things. Once he came to tuition wearing a scooter helmet on a bicycle. One day he forgot that he had not come on his scooter and started kicking the bicycle pedal to start it. He never remembered anybody’s name, as I have already mentioned.
We used to go for tuitions to a quarter in my colony where the quarter owner had rented it to Sir for his tuition classes. Rest of the time the owner used it. When we promoted to 10th class, many other students joined our tuition group. But at that time, the Quarter owner passed away in an accident. We needed to shift somewhere as it was 10th board exams. Our group had a girl, let’s call her Pal, at whose place the tuitions started again, but only for girls. Boys attended the tuitions somewhere else. We were about 9/10 girls then.
All of the students improved much in his tuition classes. And because of him, I also scored really well in my 10th Board exams. I headed for college to study science in +2, and then did my Engineering. Many years had passed since then. I am no more a student, I am working. I came across many teachers, both before and after him. I came to respect many of them and hate few of them. But whenever I remember the most remarkable teachers in my life then the first name that comes is his. He left his footmark on my life. My life definitely would have been something else if I were not to meet him.
Couple of years later, when one of my very good friends, came to me for a suggestion of a good teacher for her younger sister in high school, I could think of only one name. I sent her to LN Sir. I never imagined that Sir would ever remember me as every year he came across so many faces and apart from that he was not very good at remembering people. But I was overjoyed when I heard from my friend’s sister that, he not only remembered me, but also he could remember where I stay and my nick name too. He said her that I was one of the very good students he had taught. That single compliment made my whole life. I still cherish the memories of LN Sir. I don’t care much about what people think of me. But it matters a lot when the few people you respect the most actually praise you in front of others, that too years after your ways parted.
When I was still a student and was doing my Engineering, I came to know that LN Sir passed away. What shocked me more was the fact that he committed suicide. Well, I never knew anything about his personal life, but he was not a person who would commit suicide. I never got a chance to meet that wonderful person after 10th class. But he made me what I am today academically. I owe a lot to him for that. I know many of his students are successful today. And all of them surely remember him at some points of their lives. After all it not every day that miracle happens in your life. I can’t tell about others, but YES, he was a miracle for me. He left his mark there in my life when I was just a student, afraid of doing maths homework. And that mark will remain there forever.
On this Teacher’s Day, when I thought of writing my first ever teacher’s day blog-post, then none but LN Sir came into my mind. Happy Teacher’s Day LN Sir… I know, someday, when we meet again up there, you will still recognize me… I will wait for that. May your soul rests in peace.
August 26, 2009
Filed under: Behind the screen..., Down the memory lane..., Family..., Friends..., uuphh yeh life!!! — chapters @ 1:37 PM
At sometimes, I want the power to roll back my life till the point when I was 10 yrs old. I accomplished many things since then, but at the same time, the list of lost things is also not very negligible. Sometimes, I sigh on those thoughts those come out of my buried memory and start taking a stroll.
In Bhubaneswar, we live in an official quarter, which my father’s office had provided. It was even before my birth that my parents and my brother moved into this quarter and since then it is our home. Well, within few more months we will be leaving this quarter and will move to our own house. But this quarter is the perfect home for me. I was born here and spent my life’s first 22/23 years. Whenever I close my eyes and think about my home, then the picture of this quarter comes into my mind. It is nothing more than a 2 BHK flat, but you can imagine a Govt quarter and its condition. Sometimes, when it rained heavily, the roof leaked, and the side walls were soaked with the rain water. When summer comes, it becomes almost unbearable to spent even a single day in that quarter as it becomes nothing less but a hot oven. But still I love it… it has my memories engraved in its walls. If you can just peel out just 2/3 layers of distemper, then you can see my pencil drawings on the drawing room walls. Someday, when I played teacher-student, I being the teacher with few imaginary students, then this wall became my black board. Then I spelt an Umbrella as “Umbrela” and drew few sketches which proved my lack of knowledge in that area. The walls were like that for few more years till my father’s office approved his plea for a re-paint to hide those crafts of mine. And I remember the day the quarter was -repainted and my father warned me to think atleast thrice before trying my drawing/english teaching skills again on any of the walls.
Then come to the first bedroom which is near the drawing room. There remains the foot-mark of my brother’s Oriya handwriting and first alphabets of his first, middle and last names in english. Well, my father was not very lucky when he tried to paint the house to get rid of those marvelous crafts of my brother. Layers and layers of paint also could not hide them, as my bro was intelligent enough not to use a pencil. He went for an iron nail to dig his marks on the wall, which became almost embedded there. He later confessed that he did this to mark his territory… err his room so that in future nobody captures that. And I forgot to mention that, he also wrote “Bapa” on the other bedroom wall and “Bou” on the kitchen’s wall. And when I grew up to write something, I could not make out why he had written only “bapa” and “Bou” on wall when we have so many relatives. So, I almost took it as my sole responsibility to finish the work he started. So I took a pencil and wrote everybody’s name (not real ones, but what I call them) on the wall one after another, in a line, with commas exactly at the places where they should be and marveled at my own capability.
The quarter we stay, is on the first floor, which also happens to be the top floor of the block. There are 4 houses in one block and 2 adjacent blocks are inter-connected by the terrace. There used to live 7 more families like us and together we were like a community.
The family that stayed just in front of our quarter, was a family of many ladies. I mean uncle had 3 daughters and 2 sons. His wife, elder son, and youngest daughter used to stay at their village. Uncle had almost adopted a lad from his village who stayed with him and his other 2 daughters in the quarter. Well the boy, S, was only 1 year younger to me and what I meant while saying almost adopted was that, he was not legally adopted, but he still lives with uncles family after all these years and he IS a member of it. S and I played together. I never had a younger sibling so S was a like a little brother to me whom I ordered, scolded and at the same time took care of.
But my play group was not complete without K, the girl who lived in the quarter that was the adjacent block to ours. Her quarter and S’s quarter were interconnected by the terrace. She was 2 years older to me and behaved as the mistress of our group. Sometimes, I admired her and sometimes I conspired against her with S and planned to boycott her from our group which never happened. 3 of us grew up together. Now, though I am still in touch with K, the same I cannot tell about S. I had last met him during December 2007. I still remember all those games we used to play. All of us used to study in the school which was just around 100 feet away from our blocks. So if the school’s last bell rang by 4 PM, then we were there on the terrace by 4.30 PM. We played “Bisha-Amruta”, “Lucha Kali”, “E pai- Se pai”, and numerous such games. Then came the days, when we started to have small terrace parties and the food was bought with the small amount of money we three could manage (as we did not have the custom of getting regular pocket money during those period and money was only provided when the child cried for buying something on his/her own and the amount was also very low… so low that if somebody got something which could be counted as Rupees they he/she was lucky). Then came the days when K and I started cooking on the terrace with a small kerosene stove. But the first feast we had was meant to be remembered forever. One day, when we got tired of playing, we wanted to do something new. So we thought of cooking. K brought a small kerosene lamp, which was nothing but a small glass bottle containing oil and the lead had a hole out of which a thick cotton string came out. The end of the string that was out of the bottle was point where it was lighted and the other end was immersed in the oil in the bottle. So we took that and placed it between 2 bricks and lighted it. Then took a earthen pot, some water and few rice grains in it and put it on the bricks so that the bottom of the pot was heated by the below single flamed lamp. And both of us were analyzing the rice grains when K’s mother caught us and gave us a sound scolding. Then she gave us shift-able chulhaa which used wood as the fire material. We did not get wood to burn, so we used paper from our old newspaper raddi and burnt them to make khichdi & alu bhaja for the very first time. Then there was no looking back… We continued to have mane feasts on the terrace for many years till K got married. Now both of us are cooking… she for her family and I for myself. Ohh… did I tell that K has a 1 and 1/2 yrs old son now, who has got the very same mischievous eyes K has???
I never knew that, I was about to write such a long post that I would need another day and another post to continue. But Nostalgia cannot be nostalgia if it has not enough to write about… isn’t it???
July 9, 2009
Filed under: Behind the screen..., Down the memory lane..., Family..., Friends... — chapters @ 12:36 PM
I, with some other colleagues, tried my hands at “Rangoli” in office during Durga Puja in 2007.
I booked my tickets for Durga Puja in last week of June. Yes… there are still couple of months before it actually arrives. But tickets won’t be available for that long. 90 days before 24th September, the booking started and the very same day, at about 10 AM, when I checked for the availability it was showing WL 218… Luckily I got the tickets in Ladies quota. Phew…
Here in West Bengal, Durga Puja is the biggest festival for Benaglis. They enjoy those 5/6 days immensely. They cook and eat delicious food, they dance, they sing, they wear new dresses, they worship, they pray, they meet relatives and friends, they roam around their city/village to see the various idols of Devi Durga and the Pendals.
Everybody seems so happy during the Puja time. I have been staying here in Kolkata from last 3 years and this year it would be my 4th Durga Puja in Kolkata. Last year, I went out with I~) and his group of friends on Sashthi to see the idols and the pendals. We roamed around Kolkata and saw different varieties of pendals. We were 11 people… T and his gf N, D and his gf M, Ang with his gf P, J, Bachha (I don’t want to make that short… ), Arin, I~) & me. We hired a tata sumo and from 9 AM to 9 pm we were on the roads…
This year I dont think it will be possible for I~) to make it to Kolkata during Puja. P is in UK and it is not sure whether he will coming or not. Though Arin is in Hyderabad and N is in Mumbai but they will be coming. I will be boarding the train to Bhubaneswar in Sasthi night. And I am not sure whether this time we will be successful in making a trip around Kolkata as last time!!! 
Back at Bhubaneswar also we celebrate Durga Puja. Though it is not The biggest festival… but it is one of the big festivals we Oriyas celebrate. We also have beautifully decorated Idols and Pendals. Back in school/college days it was a long vacation of 7 to 10 days. I long for such a long holiday when I see school kids. I wish I could go back to those days again… Those carefree days.
One of the Pendals in Bhubaneswar during the Puja in 2008.
Bengalis always say that the “Pujo Aasche…” (Festive days are coming…)feeling is better than the actual Puja. As during Puja, time flies fast. But the “Wait” and the “Hope” before Puja drives us through the mundane and dragging days. The special feelings have already made me to know their presence the day I booked my tickets. I hope it will be a gala time for everybody out there.
So folks… get ready… “Pujo Aasche…”
Devi (2007 Durga Puja in a park near to the place where I used to stay previously in Kolkata)
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