Puja with Baba Everywhere

So.. Finally, I step out of home on the very last day of Durga Puja 2015 around 12-15 pm.. long after even Dashami had gotten over.. Although, my agenda was to pay a visit to Hindustan Mart for buying ABhushan's essentials, I found myself dragged to Singhi Park and then to the evergreen EkDalia..

As a child, I learnt that pandal-hopping began from Ekdalia Evergreen.. that is where Baba took us to on Saptami morning, each year, without fail.. The first stop would always be EKdalia Evergreen..

Last year, on the day of Panchami, I went to my bank at Ekdalia and paid a visit to the pandal.. Looking at the idol, I realized that in my 38 years I, for the first time, was visiting Ekdalia without Baba (even if I visited the puja with friends, there had to be one visit to ekdalia with Baba).. I had a strange ache in my heart as Baba was in no state to visit pandals at that time.. Nothing could ever stop him from visiting a few Pujas like Ekdalia.. In 2010, when Ma had her angina attack and had to be hospitalized on ShoshThi, my ever-positive, ever-enthusiastic Baba made it a point to visit Ekdalia with us on our way back from Belle Vue..

Today, as I entered the Ekdalia pandal and looked at Ma Durga, I felt a certain numbness.. I remembered that last year I had prayed for Baba's recovery so that we could return with him this year.. The Goddess did not answer my prayers, as usual, and I, after giving Her a cold shoulder for the most of the Puja, finally gave in and visited Her today without Baba anywhere in this world..

Hindustan Mart was closed and it turned out to be a long walk around gariahat and golpark, some pandal-hopping, some clicking of photographs, and some shopping.. nursing the void, battling the void, and then realizing what Jethu wrote to me the other day.. I have Baba and Baba has me.. we are never to be separated..

It was the First Time I tied a Rakhi on Baba's Wrist - It was the Last Time, too

Last Rakhi, I tied a Rakhi on Baba's wrist for the first time in my life. Well, that happens to be the last time too.

I tried to make it an all-encompassing Rakhi, last year, tying the sacred thread on my mother's and Jethu's wrists and on Baba's nurse's wrist, besides doing the customary Rakhi-tying on my brothers' wrists. It was kind of a get-together at SCG that day, Jethu making his special fried eggs for breakfast. By the time, the day got over, almost everybody had untied their Rakhi from their wrist. It was either inconvenient, or tight, or loose, or whatever. The only person who kept wearing the Rakhi till late evening was Baba. I told my mother, "See, he is the only person who is still wearing it. See, how good he is!". Overhearing that, Baba's nurse said, "We all have work to do. That is why we have opened it. He is just restricted to his bed with nothing to do on his own. Moreover, he cannot open it until we open it for him". True statements. Harsh ones. Painful ones. Ignoring her, I lingered on with my initial feeling. He is wearing it because I tied it on his wrist. Because, he is the one who never wants to hurt me. I am thankful, I tied that Rakhi, last year. Because, this year, on this day of Rakhi, when Baba is no more, the only memory that I love to cling to is the fact that everybody opened their Rakhis, but my Baba kept wearing it. He was different from everybody, always. He loved me more than anybody, always.

My Rakhi could not protect him from death. My Rakhi could not protect him from pain and illness. But, I can still see him lying on his hospital bed, with my red Rakhi tied on his right wrist. May he be safe, wherever he is.

This is the second Rakhi in my life when there was no Rakshabandhan for me. The first time was the year after we lost Thamma, and the second time is now when we have lost Baba. It were Baba and Thamma who ensured that a pair of Rakhis were bought every year. Rakhi was never a sexist ritual or festival for my brother and me. I tied one on his wrist, and he tied one on mine. We went to the market with Baba and chose our own Rakhis. Later on, my mother turned my Rakhi into my hairband. This continued till the time when my brother grew up too much to feel embarrassed to get a rakhi for me tongue emoticon! (I remember tying a Rakhi on Joyadidi's wrist in 1986. Do you remember it Joya Roydidi? It was just a few days after we had celebrated our house's birthday on Aug 8. Thankfully, we still have the pictures clicked by Jethu!)

Rakhi was also never a restricted-within-family thing for me. I used to tie Rakhis on my close friends' and colleagues' wrists always. However, last year, was the first time when I genuinely tried to follow Tagore's idea of Rakhi by including Baba's nurse in my list. It seems to be just yesterday. But, it is not. One year has gone by. Actually, more than a calendar year has gone by. And, Baba has left us, forever. My Rakhi could not keep him tied to me. Just as I have never been able to keep anybody tied to me forever.

Shankarda

A place I just loved.. would love to go back, again.. ♥

Located 15 kilometers away from Jamshedpur, in Potka of Jharkhand, Shankarda is a beautiful place. "The Weekend" resort here is owned and run by two ex-servicemen Mr Ashit Bhowmik and Mr Barun Kr Barikdar (one ex-airforce and another ex-navy), people who have never had any experience with the hospitality industry. As a result of which, the staff they have hired have no hotel management degree. The entire resort is manned with Santalis and Adivasis from the adjoining areas. They hardly understand what you say, but they give the most innocent of grins. They are humble and honest people who touch your hearts with their cordial nature. The hotel owner takes trouble to charge your camera, when there is no point in the resort where the plug goes in. Courtesy his effort, I was able to click all of the Bhalopahar pics and most of the Dimna pics. The down-to-earth staff made huge pots of mud for the saplings my Mom chose to bring with her. The owner based in Kolkata calls up to apologize for the electricity problems. I wish they retain this rustic innocent touch if and when I go back.

Bhalo Pahar

Acres of barren dry land that have stayed untouched for hundreds of years, have been turned into a manmade forest with the planting of lakhs of trees by Kamal Chakraborty. He has started a school for the local children (mostly Santals and Adivasis), health centers, nursing traininings, provision of daily nutrition, offering them opportunities of getting exposed to the outer world in every way.. the principal object being worship and preservation of trees and nature, the motto of Bhalo PahaR is "Jai Brikkhanath" (Hail Tree God)!.

Aatmiyoswajon - The True Relations

Aatmyioswajon - A beautiful play that Ma and I watched yesterday.. Ma has not gone anywhere over the last 14 months except to hospitals, doctor visits, funeral of her dearest sister, or that shraddh ceremony.. Her life revolves around Baba's nurses, his diet, his Ryle's tube feeding, his catheter.. her pleasures these days are a few words from Baba or Baba orally having a little bit to eat..

My friend Sujoy Prasad Chatterjee has been staging this play over the last year or so, maybe just after the period when Baba fell sick.. So we did not have the fortune of watching this play.. together..

This time, when I heard that Aatmiyoswajon was about to be staged at the Academy of Fine Arts, I had an urge of watching it and taking Ma with me.. She needs to live.. We all need to live.. so that we can look after Baba untiringly.. so that we can handle the depressing situations without getting frustrated..

I am thankful that I chose to go.. Firstly because, it is a touching play that moves us from the very core.. Wonderful performances from Dolly Basu, Saumya Sengupta, and Sujoy.. overall a lovable production..

It is about those people who are not our blood-relations.. not our sons, or brothers, not our daughters or sisters.. It is about those people who care for us and love us despite not being genetically connected to us.. The driver who comes on a day when the city is standstill due to storm and rain that stops the son from visiting the mother.. The driver who brings hot jalebis for "Madam" on a day like that.. the driver who empathizes with "Madam" more than his son can imagine to do.. The way the Madam, outwardly very strict, teaches the driver to read, with affection..The way the driver pats Madam's head softly when she gets her first attack of dementia.. The way the driver does not forget to bring Bijoya-r Mishti to Madam when she is in asylum, while the son is busy in doing the important job of clearing the bills..

More than once, my throat ached as I was reminded again and again of what Sejomasi's caregivers in the old-age home told us after her death.. She had asked for laau-chingri and some other kind of fish.. and they had kindly brought that for her from their home.. they, the Aatmiyoswajon, the real ones, when we the fake blood-related ones were busy with our own lives, some tired after taking care of her for three weeks, and some doing our duty by just buying her bread and milk.. I, myself, know the value of Aatmiyoswajon because I, fortunately have a few, some who love me despite never having a blood or legal relation and some who .. well ...

We could not meet you Sujoy last evening, as it was quite late and Ma had to return far off.. She asked me to convey her love.. Bear Hugs to you.. and very very special and warm regards to Dolly Basu and Saumya Sengupta.. I will never be able to imagine that "Laalu" and his "Madam" are fictional.. they entered my heart, forever.. their expressions and appearances etched in my soul.. It will be incomplete if I do not mention the sound designer who created such apt sounds of the car being driven, and the other sounds needed for the ambiance. 

— at Academy of Fine Arts.

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Just A Date

Just a Date

August 6, 2014

Overcast Sky.

August Morning.

Constant Breeze,

with a downpour-

Flight to board

to meet his kin.

August 6, 2011.

Reached.

Met.

Smiles galore.

Relief.

Blessings for a knot to be tied.

Dreams to come true. Finally.

An yellow Envelope.

The address of my lawyer.

The address of his lawyer.

Sheets of typed paper.

I hold them.

August 6, 2014.

I get to see the papers. 

The knot is untied.

Torn, so to say.

I read those words.

Those words.

They will sink in, someday.

Someday. Finally. 

Aparajita Tumi - June 10, 2015

AN intriguing movie that I had the fortune of at last watching yesterday!! Loved the actors (somehow only Prosenjit Chatterjee was a misfit) and actresses! Such ease, elegance, and elan with which they ruled the scenes.. I had no idea that it was directed by ANiruddha Roychoudhury, but then I began to sense it, having watched Antaheen just an hour back.. After almost a day and almost no sleep, I am unable to get over the movie.. These two new actresses are so so good! and Indranil Sengupta again! Just when I was cherishing the beautiful songs of Antaheen and feeling thankful for Shantanu Moitra and Anindya and Chandril, I was again treated by this deluge of lyrical music that Aparajita Tumi offers through this trio and through singers like Rupankar!

My family had watched this movie in Jan 2012 in the theater, celebrating my parents' anniv, when I was not here.. Last night, I watched it alone, with nobody around, till 2-40 am.. It was as if a whole circle became complete! Thanks Zee Bangla Cinema!