Leaving a lasting first impression

Handshakes are an extremely powerful tool to establish first connection with someone you are not acquainted to, or know very little of. A handshake can form a winning first impression in a few seconds, or ruin it. You may never realise its significance unless you experience a bad handshake! Experts say that handshakes convey a lot of information about you as a person – whether you are confident, trustworthy, competent, and sound minded. A perfect handshake should not be too strong or too weak.

One etiquette expert had said “One must squarely face the other person, extend their hand with the thumb up and fingers out until they are web to web – touch the skin web between the thumb and index of the person one is shaking hands with.” There was one article in the Times of India a few weeks back which correctly mentioned that there is more to a handshake that just the grip however – your posture, body language and appearance in general. Timing must be right too. A good shake should not take more than 2 seconds and should be accompanied with a nod of the head and eye contact – this exudes confidence. Letting go too early can make it seem that you aren’t interested in the other person.

May be, we all can take a leaf out of Bill Clinton’s book as someone globally renowned for a firm handshake. However, the great thing is that you do not have to reside in White House to master the art of leaving a lasting first impression.

Rituporno – One of India’s braveheart directors….

Bengal’s brave, young director Rituporno Ghosh peacefully transitioned into heavenly abode, in his sleep on a sultry Kolkata morning of May 30th. He thereby left a gigantic chasm not only in India’s film fraternity, but also among the rising and educated urban middle class of Bengal.

For years long, I have been a tremendous follower and an ardent fan of the great Satyajit Ray. There was a time not too long ago when I felt within and opined candidly that there can be no film-director who can come close to Ray’s talent, depth of knowledge and story-telling abilities in Bengal in particular and India at large. Rituporno had done just that.

After the untimely death of another celluloid idol Uttam Kumar in 1980, educated urban Bengali audiences had stopped visiting movie halls to watch Bengali movies, barring Ray classics. Ray himself passed away in 1992, sending the Bengali film industry into further disarray. This was precisely the period which Rituporno turned into an opportune moment to step in. In 1995, when I was a year short of my first board exams, he directed “Unishe April”. It was just the beginning. I was witness to these times when audiences started flocking back to movie theatres to watch Bengali movies directed by him. It was a celluloid revolution. Bengali films were back with a bang, courtesy directors like Rituporno.

Just like Ray and millions of other bengalis, Rituporno had Tagore in his blood. Just like Ray (as in Charulata and Ghare Baire), he directed some of his best works based on Tagore’s novels – Chokher Baali and Noukadubi. Just like Ray would do, he had the rare ability to bring out the best from his actors through meticulous guidance and instruction. At the same time, just like Ray, he would also give a lot of space to his star actors so that they could express themselves without inhibitions. Just like Ray, he was also a great orator and one could listen day in and day out to his words about any matter on earth.

Having said that, unlike Ray, Rituporno was androgenous and would dwell on the un-traversed path of complexities in human relationships – men with men, men with women and women with women. Like Rituporno, there have been many film-makers in the history of film-making who have been inclined towards the same sex, but there have not been too many who have explored trans-sexuality so fearlessly and explicitly as he did. He was not only a reflection of his time where such social issues were of humongous relevance, but also well ahead of it. As a result, Rituporno’s films were esoteric to many. He used films as a platform to make a statement about bisexuality which he could not in his personal and social life as an individual.

In 17 years of film-making, Rituporno Ghosh won 12 National Awards and directed 19 films. If he had lived for another 25 years, I am sure he would have transgressed a lot more boundaries and reached heights rarely achieved by many. Without doubt, after Satyajit Ray, he was most definitely Bengal’s best director and certainly one of India’s finest in the last 20 years.

This Pakistan team commands respect…

Many of cricket-crazy Indians would be disappointed with the fact that India lost the ODI series to Pakistan 2-1. I am no exception. However, I would opine that this series loss would sting a lot less than a lot of previous losses to Pakistan have. The reason being simply that this Pakistan team, which landed on Indian shores in December 2012,is not only a bunch of fighting and talented cricketers, but also friendly human beings.

There have been tremendous cricketers in the past who have represented Pakistan with pride and elan in the past,especially against India – Imran Khan, Salim Malik, Javed Miandad, Wasim Akram, Waqar Younis, Moin Khan, Azhar Mehmood, Inzamam-Ul-Haq and not to forget Shoaib Akhtar,to name a few. However apart from Inzamam in our era and probably Asif Iqbal and Zaheer Abbas in the past, none has been warm in their body language off-the field. It was not that it was meant to be a compulsion on their part, but still their behaviours and body languages kept cricket lovers at a distance. Emotional cricket loving fans in India were in awe of their perofrmances, but deep within they did feel a chasm, which never allowed us to truly admire them as ambassadors of the game.

Take a look at this Pakistan team and, its humility and toughness in unison. Naser Jamshed scored 3 centuries in a row against India, but had his head bowed in humility with a gentle smile throughout. Younis Khan is probably the only cricketer in world cricket for quite some time who plays with a smile glued on his face. Misbah-Ul-Haq is never somebody who would behave arrogantly on the field of play and so would Shoiab Malik. The young quicks Junaid Khan and 7 ft tall Mohammad Irfan are smiling assasins with no glares or gestures or swears. Umar Gul and Saeed Ajmal are probably the only ones with a bit of agro but nothing as bad as Shoaib Akhtar and Imran Khan.

Hence this Pakistan team would command huge respect around the world not only for winning cricket matches but also hearts of millions watching. Wishing them all the best !!

Candid and honest communication helps...

Articulate and honest communication, without cheating oneself and others can build sound relationships in one’s personal life and enhance career growth in one’s professional life. However, unwillingness towards the same, either mostly due to lack of intent and rarely due to lack of ability (not everyone is an articulate communicator) can ruin families, relationships and bonds forever. I have always believed in candid talking throughout my life. That has not necessarily earned me a procession of friends (my FB friend count is still pathetically low), but what I have earned is quality of friendship and the gift of honest opinions.


The only substantial mistake that I felt I have made is to expect people who are far lesser in pedigree to be as honest and candid as I am. There are scores of people around (they are a MAJORITY by 99:1) who commit to certain ideas, thoughts and opinions, but back out in the middle of execution, making honest and committed people feel hopelessly helpless. Disagreements, if present, should be articulated right at the top. Sometimes I feel that turbulence in conjugal life can be totally eliminated if both partners formulate an understanding of each other’s “soft” points – topics which elicit anger and irritation, communicate the same to each other in the most polite of ways and then execute it over a lifetime. After all this is what understanding is all about.


The same applies to other spheres of life also. Ethical correctness of certain feelings and opinions should be challenged, revoked or accepted right at the time when they are expressed. However, once accepted by the parties involved, “moral policing” should not happen. After 6 months, people should not come and say that “Hey buddy, are we doing the right thing? Is it morally correct? Are we hurting anybody else in the process? Can we keep sustaining it?” To me these irrelevant and stupid questions can totally get eliminated from the equation if we can somehow exhibit clear thinking. I believe most of us are educated enough and intelligent enough to do it.


Having said that, an important fact is, convoluted and confused people with their minds tied up into knots cannot think such clearly. Clarity in speech evolves from clarity of thought and some people are just not good at it. Even if they know what they should do, they cannot screw up enough courage to actually do it. Unfortunately, as I mentioned earlier, such people are the majority. We have to live with them!

You and I - 6

It had been almost a year since he got married. Things were going on as usual in the most bizarre way possible. She did not express her feelings in the way he wanted, his frustrations grew, she kept herself busy in other modes of entertainment in life and did not bother to oblige. The time they spent with each other had been reduced to a trickle. One day his anger spilled over. Voices soared; mobile talk-times shot through the roof and moods went haywire. It was a terrible saga of a damaged and dilated ego which fell flat on its face. Most importantly, it was also a sorry tale of an unfulfilled romance which was so intense that it charred everything else around including itself. Anger, pain and a feeling of being cheated and misunderstood blew the lid off any decency between the two. The relationship was as good as over. All good moments they had shared in the past, all sweet words that had been spoken to each other, the trust and comfort zone they mutually enjoyed in each other’s company and the feelings they had for each other were shattered that day. In the heat of the moment, he put question marks on the character of a woman he loved and respected so dearly. She clearly told him in blunt words not to interfere in her personal life anymore. He realized that it was a HUGE mistake, but the damage had been done. The worst thing was that in about 2 weeks’ time, both families were planning to meet up at a resort with some common friends. Nobody knew whether that would happen now or not, or even if it did how much they would enjoy it. All plans were in jeopardy. Even after all this, he put a lot of trust on her and hoped that she would come back with a smiling face quickly, as she had done a few times. However, deep inside, he knew that it might not ever happen again. The foundation of the relationship had been shaken. If at all, the entire building of love needed to be re-constructed. Would he have the patience to do it? Would she be forgiving enough to give the relationship another chance? Would they both be able to love each other so passionately as they used to before? The Almighty knew the answer.

KKR’s IPL Victory celebrations – Mixed feelings….

Two weeks back, Kolkata Knight Riders won the fifth edition of the IPL. It was a proud moment for all Bengalis around the country and beyond. This was especially true after the Pune Warriors unit consisting of Bengal’s greatest cricketer and a few other budding ones crashed out of the competition in utter ignominy. Even the most emotional Bengali cricket fan including me had no other option but to pledge whole-hearted support for their home city team which was led by a fighter. We were ecstatic on the night of May 27, 2012. To me the joy of seeing KKR lifting the IPL was as good as MS Dhoni’s Men in Blue lifting the ICC Cricket World Cup on April 02, 2011. However, having said all this, what was baffling to me was the mid-afternoon euphoria that occurred in Kolkata a couple of days later. The city of joy was battling with its schizophrenia. An enthusiastic chief minister made a mockery of her austere chair and struck a devastating blow at the over-refined self-image of the Bengalis. To many, it was nothing short of heresy. At the same time, the apparent irrational over-exuberance also corresponded to the fact that Bengalis by nature are excitable. As a Bengali who has grown up and spent 25 years in Kolkata, I know that my community has a penchant for “Hujuk” – an evocative term that signifies infectious craziness. In the past, Kolkata has gone berserk for Lionel Messi, Diego Maradona, Pele, Nelson Mandela and even Princess Diana and Fidel Castro. When I used to stay in Kolkata, up to about 10 years back, I witnessed astonishingly that the Annual Book Fair in our “Maidan” saw more food consumed than books sold! Hence I believe that the spontaneous frenzy over SRK and his band of brave hearts was in keeping with a tradition of excitability. Middle class Kolkata is blessed with a diaspora larger than the resident population. The exiles, like me, look back wistfully at the city they abandoned, sometimes grudgingly and sometimes with a heavy heart. Good English-speaking successful Bengalis living outside Bengal have nurtured an image of Kolkata that corresponds to their own self-image – cultured, well-versed, romantic and well-rounded. I am sure that such a Kolkata has not ceased to exist, but it constitutes only a fragment of the many enclaves that make up the city right now. It is unfortunate that the “cream of the city” is not living there anymore. It is with a heavy heart that I must also admit that no other city in India has been the object of so much pitiable condescension as Kolkata, a city that has forgotten the taste of success. KKR’s victory gave them a reason to celebrate. Hence they filled up Eden gardens in thousands on a sultry and humid May afternoon. For India’s other metros preoccupied with life and business, a T20 victory would have been just one of those things. Still, I would love to go back to the city where I belong to and spend evenings in Victoria Memorial. I would love to throng the walkways alongside the Ganges with an egg-chicken roll in hand, I would love to view the sunset from Scoop, I would love to gorge on phuchkas on Garer Math and breathe in the fresh air of spring in Peace Park!! My heart still stays with the city I miss the most - Kolkata.

You and I - 5

About three months had passed since they last talked to each other. He was mentally torn asunder. He was an extremely emotional person and his feelings were protuberant. His family gauged his mind well, tried their best to assuage him and decided to fix up his marriage in the last week of February. The engagement was fixed on New Year’s Eve. Sagarika, the prospective bride, was apparently beautiful, graceful and soft spoken, but had an austere air about her. He did not drool over her, nor did she slobber over him. He was unusually staid in front of her, which was very unlike him. He seemed to stultify his magnetic personality. As he began to talk to her, he fathomed that she had a haughty mentality. It was one thing he loathed.

It was December 12. He was to turn 26 the next day. He missed his love even more that day. He remembered all the beautiful moments that they had shared all these years, even though she was married. He remembered how she bunked her cooking class to meet him, he remembered her sweet voice pulling his leg on the phone, he remembered her pampering when he was distraught and he remembered his silence being deeply understood by a caressing voice.

However, now, it was left to Sagarika to take care of his feelings. This festered him no end. He felt as if his life was over. They were on two opposite sides of the spectra, and it was almost impossible for them to understand each other. He used to crave for a miracle, but it did not happen. It was the worst birthday-eve he had ever hoped to spend. He fought with Sagarika on the pettiest of issues that day and spoilt his entire evening.

What made it worse for him was the fact that just a month back he had arranged for a lovely surprise gift for Sagarika on her birthday, and both families had a gala evening. He felt that didn’t he deserve even that bit, at least a happy evening? Was he so worthless that any goddamn Sagarika could come and tell him whatever she wanted to, on such a special day? Or was she determined for some reason to spoil the party for him? Nobody had an answer. He came back home dejected from Sagarika’s mansion.

It was 12 am. His mobile rang. He expected only one name popping up on the screen of the gadget. It used to be her every year, year after year for the last 4 years. This time, it was his cousin. Many people called till about 1 am, including Sagarika, but he did not care a hoot. For the rest of the night he could not close his heavy eyes laden with tear. Nobody was there to wipe it off either. At 6 am, he got up from bed and got off to the nearby park for his jogging drills. He had to reach office by 9 am and distribute invitation cards for his engagement.