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.

You and I - 4

His words did not flinch her at all. She did reply but her words were vague and inconclusive as before. He felt that she was insouciant, giving lame excuses, and portraying spurious affection. She kept asking him for time to express her feelings, but he did not have much of it anyway. Diverse sources of information revealed that she was enjoying her personal and family life, but he had none of that. She had a loving husband to look up to, but he was still single,lonely and madly in love with her. He knew that societal taboos might not allow them to come together ever, but he continued to love her, helplessly. Her sweet and loquacious style, which drove him crazy before, now made him disconsolate. He felt that there was no difference between a person who has no emotions and a person who has, but cannot express them for some reason or the other. He hated himself for expressing his feelings to her. From now on, it was more of a case of self-counselling for him and moving on in life.

You and I - 3

The series of confabulations over phone and email did not seem to make any headway into their relationship. He was running out of patience. She was neither committing nor backing away; his heart and mind were becoming increasingly brittle, and with the weight of expectations which were not being fulfilled, they were getting shattered every moment. Male ego did not allow him to cry aloud, fear of ignominy did not allow him to discuss matters with dear ones. He was passing through a disastrous phase in life.

The things that pissed him off even more were her lacklustre responses to his intense feelings. If he called her up thrice a day, she was calling once in three days. He doubted whether this was the same intense and romantic girl he loved, or have things suddenly changed. He was simmering with anger and decided to pen down his feelings.

“I trusted you with all my heart, opened it up to you, but you just smiled. I thought that you loved to express, hence I loved you. You were a complete natural and your simplicity drove me crazy. Now I see that you are caught up in a web of complex, claustrophobic and meaningless relationships. To me, nights do seem long without you, but is it the same with you? I do not think it is. To me love has never been stronger, but is it the same with you? I do not think it is. I am always there for you if you do need me, but can I expect the same from you? I do not think I can. I hope that I am wrong in reading your mind, but I don’t think I am.

However, I promise you one thing. My sense of self-dignity would not allow me to sustain this level of one-sided intensity forever, because, I strongly feel that reciprocity is the basic foundation stone of any successful love story. I appreciate that you are an independent and ambitious individual and you have every right to choose people in your life, but you should not start taking people for granted. Till now I always wanted you to be happy, and I always wanted that I should be contributing a major chunk to that happiness. Now I see that you don’t need me to be truly happy. In your life, I am like a redundant topping of chocolate sauce, which does not enrich the sweetness of the dessert if added to a chocolate base already ingrained with nuts and almonds. I don’t have any objections to that, but had you communicated the reality a bit earlier, it would have saved both of us a lot of time and energy.

Sincerely yours…”

TRIP TO CONFIDENT AMOON

About a month back our lab manager Arjun had sent out an invitation for the final team meeting of 2011 for the GE Water team. He had also professed that not only we would have the meeting offsite, but also that it would be followed by lunch. Arrangements for the gala outing commenced about three weeks in advance. Careful planning and negotiations on the best possible package that different resorts were offering, were on in full swing. Sathees was our point of contact for the occasion, but many of us bombarded him with ideas so that we could have a trip worth remembering.

Among the resorts shortlisted were PALM MEADOWS, CONFIDENT AMOON, THE LEELA and MATHAN. However, after many deliberations, discussions and brainstorming sessions, everybody zeroed in on CONFIDENT AMOON, a plush resort built in Egyptian style with a lot of serenity around, located on the Bangalore-Chennai highway about 35 km from our office campus.

It was 9.15 am on December 15, 2011. Four Toyota Innova SUVs had been booked for the occasion. Around 6 of us, hopped onto each one of them. It was an overcast and cool morning in Bangalore, with hardly any sunshine, just the kind of weather you crave for when you are contemplating a road trip. We were racing through the National Highway (NH 4) in about 20 minutes time and it was an absolute treat. To me, it felt like one of those romantic getaways in New Zealand, which I have always been infatuated about, but never ever experienced. The dark grey horizon added to the mystique and romance, and we covered about 35 kilometers in 30 minutes time.

A gigantic statue of Pharaoh Tutan Khamun welcomed us at the picturesque entrance to this glamorous resort cum spa facility. All 25 of us were inside the resort roughly within 15 minutes of each other, and we all were provided with a welcome drink that soothed our thirsty taste buds. First up, we decided to take a stroll around this magnificent facility. There were lovely cottages scattered around with dedicated mini-swimming pools for each. There was a miniature golf course with 9 holes and a huge ground with flood light facilities meant for cricket, soccer and volleyball, besides exquisitely manicured lawns. To top it all, the place was exceedingly quiescent, which was a therapeutic relief to our senses. We were overwhelmed at first sight.

It was close to 10.30 am when we entered the conference room that was booked for us. We had carried our own projector too, and it took some time to set the hardware up for Arjun’s presentation to begin. It was a team-building activity in itself. The only thing that was not satisfactory about the room provided was that it was too bright and illuminated for a projected presentation to happen. However, we chose the darkest possible spot in the room to position the screen and set the ball rolling.

The interactive presentation went on for about 2 hours, with Arjun exchanging his typical anecdotes in between, which made us burst into laughter every now and then. At lunch, the buffet arrangements inside a mini-cave personified both aesthetics and royalty. The lights were dim, the temperatures were cool and atmosphere was eerie. It gave us a feeling of being inside a real cave, the difference being, in this one, you had boys in uniform ready at your service.

We had a lot of chit-chat during the course of our lunch, which is not always possible on normal working days in office. If the food was great with multiple cuisines to choose from for both vegetarian and non-vegetarian lovers, the dessert items were even better. It was the first time that many people had the pleasure of having Lauki ka Halwa, but the Kala Jamoon, Rice Kheera and Rajbhog were equally good. It was a sumptuous meal.

After lunch, we decided that there should be some form of fun-filled physical workout that would help us in digesting all the spicy stuff we had taken! The consensus was reached to play cricket, and the management team of the resort kindly obliged by providing us the ground for about 90 minutes. The ground was named Thebes. It was agreed upon that a 10-over-per-side match would be played between Mohan’s XI and Chaitra’s XI.

The cricket match was the most enjoyable and hilarious part of our trip. Whether it was Vijaysai’s or Kalyan’s bowling or Madhuri’s batting or Siva’s umpiring or Anil’s dropping of catches or JP’s scorekeeping, comments were overflowing from all quarters and laughter was ubiquitous. Narain and Arjun were the frontrunners in witty humor; however we joined in for the laughter. It was tremendous fun coupled with a lot of frolic. Chaitra’s XI won the match in the end. It was after a long time that many of us played, and we were literally exhausted. We freshened up a bit, and decided to call it a day at about 3.30 pm.

The great thing about this occasion was that, it is not often that we get a chance to know our team members from such close quarters in office. This outing was one such opportunity for all of us to rediscover our relationship with peers. In our day to day office activities, we develop so many false impressions about people and react in unjustified mannerisms towards them. However, what I realized was, such outings help you mix with people away from work and help you to positively modify your perception about them. Eventually we all become better human beings.

As I mentioned earlier, this outing was supposed to be just the final team meeting of 2011, but it turned out to be a lot more enriching and enjoyable than that, in the true sense of the word. It was an outing every one of us cherished from the bottom of our hearts.

You and I - 2

About a week passed. He used to check his emails every day, but the one he was gasping for was not in sight. Patience was running out, love was strengthening its roots deep inside his heart, the assumption that “silence was approval” was slowly gaining weightage and expectations were getting stronger by the minute. It was Valentine’s Day eve – 12 am, February 14, when he finally found that she had replied. She wrote….

“I really do not know what to say to your email. I respect your feelings, but at the same time, I am helpless. I am literally dumbstruck and caught between the proverbial Devil and the Deep Blue Sea. I have always felt very relieved whenever I have discussed my little problems with you. Your presence in person and your voice on the phone will always be a gush of fresh oxygen in my life. Nobody can substitute that feeling of mine, not even my husband. However, the fact is that there IS strong emotional attachment, and a sense of loyalty and responsibility, between the two of us. I agree that he is not perfect, but neither am I, nor you. As we have started to grow in our marital relationship, as we spend more time together, our mutual understanding is getting better as well. Nowadays, he is much more caring and sensitive than he used to be 6 months back and I strongly feel that things would only get better. At this crucial juncture of our relationship, I do not want my infidelity to ruin it all. After all, we all belong to respected and educated families and I do not want to demean my family in any way, by taking a rash and senseless step. I understand that it might be difficult for you, but I would not like to stretch our relationship beyond friendship. I know there are a lot of unanswered questions in your mind, but this is all I have to say. I really want you to get married soon. Please do take care, for me, if not for yourself, because you are really SPECIAL to me. Best wishes…”

You and I - 1

He met her in a party a year ago and liked her at the first instant, but he was not sure whether that was love or not. It seemed to him that she liked him as well, but he was not sure. She was already married, and he did not have the guts to ask her about it straightaway. They kept meeting sparingly in different forums and he felt that he was getting deeper into attraction with every meeting. Finally after one year, he could not take it anymore and decided to send her a note…….

"Sometimes I ask myself that why on earth did we not meet earlier than we actually did. Or if we had done so, would life have been anything different for both you and me? I would never muster up enough audacity for elocution of my innermost feelings towards you. I do not want to be delinquent either towards certain people who matter, and I am sure you understand that. You might have liked many a people in life, much more than you like me right now, but that does not deter me from getting attracted towards you. There is something about you that pulls me. Your voice, your persona, your smile, your ebullience….I do not know exactly what that is. However what I can assure you that such feelings are not ephemeral, nor are such inferences a conjecture. The rare talents you have enthrall me and force me to respect you, and with deep respect evolves love. Sharing a few jokes and opening up my feelings to you makes me lighter, and I enjoy every little bit of you, whatever you give me. I sincerely wish that my words does not smell of perfidy. My relationship with you is much deeper than what the world perceives. I took a while to gauge you, but now I feel that you are the one who is made for me. Looking forward to your reply….Sincerely yours…."

Mausam’s Marriage…Archi’s Vidai and thereafter…

I was not present in “Udayachal” on the morning following marriage day, which was on the 4th of August. Hence I did not witness the “Bashi Biye” ritual, where the bride and the groom customarily revisit the mandap on which they got married and worship sun-god. At 5 in the evening, Chotka, Tum and I reached “Udayachal” to bring home the bride and the groom to Beadon Street.

Soon after, the process of “Vidai” commenced from the bride’s family, with a heavy heart and teary eyes. Their dearest daughter, with whom they had stayed, and shared their all, would leave forever, to spend the rest of her life with her partner. All elders started to give their blessings to the couple, which they humbly accepted. It was a corpulent emotional moment for Archi, but she was unbelievably steady and enduring. There was no teary outburst and no ostentatious expressions of grief from her side, and hence her family also controlled themselves well. She camouflaged her sorrow in an extremely matured manner. Let everyone be assured that not many brides can do that.

After the blessings were rendered and received, the bride’s family surrounded the groom like a pack of wolves would do when they see a rabbit – all for the sake of a small monetary token. This is also a practice that is prevalent in Bengali marriages. Legend goes that the groom, before taking the bride, has to pay some amount to his in-laws, especially to brothers, sisters and cousins, failing which he would not be allowed to leave! In one word, it is extortion in a very good and humorous spirit. After extensive bargaining, Mausam and his in-laws settled for a paltry sum of Rs 5001/-.

We left “Udayachal” at about 7 pm and reached Beadon Street at about 7.45. Bubu’s mother did the welcoming ceremony (“Boron”) and right up front, Archi was handed a small live fish to hold. A pitcher filled with milk was being heated in a small wood lit fire nearby, and the custom was that as soon as the milk would boil and overflow, the bride would come in. Unfortunately, the milk took about 40 minutes to simmer, and Archi was made to wait with the live fish in hand, in that sapping humidity. At the same time, a plate containing lac dye and milk was also placed near the feet of the bride.

As soon as the milk simmered, people exploded in ecstasy, and Archi was asked to put her two feet on the plate. She did so, and her subsequent steps up to the drawing room were on top of a white cloth. This particular custom, where one captures the footprints of the bride, is symbolic of the arrival of Goddess Lakshmi into the household, bringing peace, prosperity and wealth. That particular night was also supposed to be “Kaal Ratri” where the couple is supposed to sleep not only in separate rooms, but also not look at each other.

“Boubhat” was held on the afternoon of 5th of August. Here, at lunchtime, the bride (Bou) is supposed to serve cooked rice (Bhat) to the groom’s entire family. Archi did that diligently. In the evening, a grand reception was organized in Ramdoolal Niwas, 67E Beadon Street, popularly known as “Thakur Bari” in the Deb household.

However, to start with, and contrary to the expectations of lesser mortals, the attraction of the evening was my respected father-in-law and mother-in-law and not the newly wed couple. Incidentally, 5th August 2011 was their 30th marriage anniversary as well, and what a grand occasion it was to celebrate that moment. Bubu had ordered a humongous four-storey cake a month back, but had not informed his parents about it, but Kuhu and I knew about it. It was supposed to be a big SURPRISE, and it turned out to be that way. At 7.30 pm, when some guests had already arrived, I had the privilege to announce to the audience about the occasion, which many of them were not aware of. The cake was cut by “Shoshur Moshai and Shashuri Maa” and to their dismay, we made them exchange garlands as well, reliving their moments of past glory. It was after this that the actual reception party started to gather steam.

There were around 650 people on that evening inside Ramdoolal Niwas, and all the soft drinks and fruit juices were exhausted. Due to the hot weather and sapping humidity, people could not eat much, and a lot of food was left over. After the guests left, Mum Mum, Mitul, Rituporna boudi and I, gathered all gifts collected during the evening and brought it back to Bubu’s bedroom. Kuhu and a few others were decorating the bed with flowers for the Flower Bed Ceremony (“Ful Shojja”). For the newly wed couple, that is the night for consummation.

After putting the gifts inside the room, Mitul, Mum Mum and I left for our respective homes, but Kuhu stayed on. To add to the drama, the unbearably hot and sultry eight days of build-up, the marriage itself, and reception culminated in heavy torrential showers and lightening at midnight that day. Somebody said that the rain gods were waiting for Bubu’s marriage to get over before they poured. It was an apt statement.

To make matters worse, the rains did not stop till four days after the reception, and the streets were water logged. Two days later, Kuhu, my mother-in-law and I drove to Dakshineswar temple on the banks of the Ganges amidst heavy rain and offered puja to Goddess Kali. On the day we were supposed to come back to Bangalore, it rained heavily as well and our SUV almost got stuck in the water at Rajarhat.

It was a tremendously eventful ten days at Kolkata and it was a wonderful feeling to relive those memories and pen it down in three posts. Hope the readers enjoyed it !!

Mausam’s Marriage…D-Day

After all the exciting build-up that I had talked about in my last post, D-day finally arrived. The day started with “Dodhi Mangal” at the stroke of dawn. According to custom, seven married women (men, single women, spinsters and widows are strictly not allowed to participate in this ritual) are supposed to take the groom on the banks of the Ganga, invoke mother Ganges and invite her to the marriage, take a pitcher of water from the river and come back and feed the groom with the holy water, sweet curd (Dodhi) and rice. However, over the centuries, all customs get diluted and this is no different. Although I was not present in person, I am almost certain that even on this instance, the groom was only fed with water, curd and rice by seven ladies, and the Ganges trip was bypassed !

In Bengali marriages, it has also traditionally been a custom to have a kid groom/bride (“Nitbor/Nitkone” respectively) participating in some of the rituals along with the groom/bride. In Bubu’s case it had to be a “Nitbor”, and, our very own Roadu turned out to be excellent in that role. He was a cute little 6-year old cousin of Bubu’s, and was never overawed by the occasion. He seemed to enjoy the limelight of a hundred cameras and eyes.

The first major attraction of the day was the “Gae Holud” ceremony. Bubu and Roadu were made to dress up in a white dhoti, with a small “gamcha” put over their shoulders. Seven married women (men, single women, spinsters and widows are strictly not allowed to participate in this ceremony, although they may witness it) then started to apply turmeric (holud) paste on the faces and chests of Bubu and Roadu with some small rituals. These two guys, also had a “Topor” on, which is a customary headgear supposed to be worn by the groom and the kid groom on marriage day.

After the ceremony concluded, Chotka, Kukai, I and a few others were scheduled to leave for the bride’s house with “Totto” - an assortment of gifts that is sent to the bride’s house from the groom’s house before the wedding ritual. This is also known as “Gae Holud Totto.” Just before leaving however, one of our elderly ladies put a handful of turmeric paste on my face, and unfortunately, most of it spilled on to my white kurta. I did not have an alternative dress at that point of time, and in the heat of the moment I lost my cool a bit. Finally, I did change my dress and mood, got a fresh kurta on, and left for the bride’s house. The morning was already turning out to be quite an eventful one.

The next pre-wedding custom was supposed to be “Vriddhi” or “Nannimukh”. This event actually happened soon after we left for the bride’s house, and hence I was not able to witness it. In “Vriddhi”, homage is paid to ancestors by either the father of the groom or, his paternal uncle. I do not know who performed it in the end, but whoever did, had to be in a liquid diet whole day.

When we reached Archi’s (the bride) house, her father was performing the “Vriddhi” for their ancestors. We were given a grand reception, and the gifts were welcomed with a lot of appreciation and smiles. We were offered sweets, beverages and even lunch. However, we left their place just before lunch time. A different, but equally elaborate and exotic set of gifts, known as “Adhibas Totto” was also expected to be sent from the bride’s house to the groom’s house, a day after the marriage.

We were scheduled to leave, with the groom and the kid groom, to the bride’s place at about 7 pm. The marriage ceremony was expected to start at about 8.30pm. From 5 pm, the dressing-up started among the ladies. Sarees, jewelleries and cosmetics were all over the place. Complete pandemonium prevailed. Three of us including the groom were dumped in one of the corner rooms for our embellishment. Most of us including the groom wore “kochano dhuti” along with lovely exotic silk “Punjabis” (Kurta). A dew white I-20 was reserved for the groom, kid groom, the groom’s father, the priest and the barber (in our marriages, a barber, known as “Napit”, is also an integral part). The car was beautifully adorned with flowers and it was a royal departure.

All relatives travelling from our side for the marriage, known as “Bor Jatri”, dispersed themselves into different cars, some hired and some personal. Kuhu and I got inside Arijit’s Fiat Punto. Bubu’s journey towards a new phase of his life got off to a worse possible start when their I-20 was badly hit at its rear by a bus. It was terrible news upfront. Luckily for us, nobody was injured, but the car was damaged to a great extent.

After all the drama, we reached “Udayachal”, the venue for the marriage ceremony at about 8.15 pm. The groom was welcomed with blowing conch shells and ululation. Archi’s mother performed all the welcome rituals, as part of blessings and as part reverence, to mark this auspicious moment. After a few minutes, the “Ashirbaad porbo” (blessings to the groom and bride, separately in two rooms) started. At around 9 pm, the actual marriage ceremony started and it went on for about just over an hour. At about 10.30 pm, Archi and Mausam were pronounced husband and wife.

Photo sessions, fun, gossip and socializing happened in that two-hour time slot right from the time we came in to the time marriage concluded. After dinner, the groom, the bride and around ten people, including friends and a few very close relatives sat down in a big hall together. This phenomenon is known as “Bashor”. According to custom, on this night, the couple is not allowed to sleep together, and the relatives, through fun and frolic, see to it that practice is followed.

I remember, it was sapping humid that night, and still we had a lot of fun. We chatted almost whole night, we sang songs, and Kukai had a sip of Vodka with sprite. At 5 am, the rest of the group went to sleep but myself and Arijit decided that we would come back home. That was because we had to come back to receive the groom and the bride from Udayachal that evening itself, and for that we needed to be fresh. For me, the best place to freshen up has always been my house in Hindusthan Park, and so I decided to have it that way. Arijit dropped me to a nearby bus stop and at about 5.30am I took a bus for home. I reached home at about 6.30 am and went off to deep slumber.

It was a tremendous last 24 hours, with laughter, boiling tempers, songs, fun, frolic, hard work, drinks, food and activity. The arrival of Archi in Beadon Street, the reception party and a few surprises were still in store for us. More of that in my next post !!

Mausam’s Marriage…The build-up…

My brother-in-law Mausam’s marriage was one of the most enjoyable events that I have attended in my lifetime. Those ten days had such a plethora of incidents from pleasant to worse, that, one would have to try really hard to erase even one bit of those memories. In this post, I would indite incidents only up to marriage-eve. In my next post, I would describe the marriage-day itself and events thereafter.

When I and Kuhu left Bangalore, our bodies had been toned to 21 degree Celsius, 50% relative humidity, huge reserves of energy and willingness to work. All that turned on its head, when we got out of our 6E-156 Indigo flight, on the night of 29th of July. Kolkata was simmering at 34 degree Celsius, with an equally sweaty humidity quotient of 97%. We got drenched in perspiration in 10 minutes, and tempers boiled straight away. “Dada ar shomoi pelo na biye korar. Bari giye oke bolbo jeno kuri khana A/C r byabostha kore. Uff ei gorome shajbo ki kore and kaaj korbo ki kore…(Big bro could not find a worse moment to marry. I would instruct him to get around 20 A/Cs planted all across the function hall. In this sapping heat and humidity, how can anyone do any work or embellish oneself with make-ups??).. ” were the first comments from an angry and irritated Kuhu. We reached the “Deb Household”, on 67B Beadon Street, on the evening of 30th of July, four days before the marriage, which was scheduled on the 3rd of August.

By that time itself, we had no energy left in us. We were exhausted already. Gallons of chilled water and soft drinks were flowing down our throats. There was no urge to talk, move around or even eat. Suddenly at 9.30 pm I realized that I had left my mobile phone inside the cab while coming to Beadon Street. We could not possibly have had a more dreadful and atrocious start to this supposedly happy sojourn of Mausam’s (Bubu) marriage ceremony. Luckily for me, the person who picked up the phone from the cab had been kind enough to keep it switched on, so that we could track it. He stayed in Rippon Street, one of the most notorious Muslim localities in south-central Kolkata. At 10.30 pm, Bubu, chotka and I picked the phone up from the gentleman’s residence.

The next two days were relatively less eventful, but the heat and humidity were really getting under our skin. It was getting exceedingly difficult to work and organize things for D-day, but we had no choice. The breakdown of a power station far down in Kolaghat, put the final nail on the coffin. To back the sapping heat, there was no power for two days. Extra power back-up was envisaged, in case there was a black-out on marriage day (that did not take place however).

On marriage-eve, the last night of bachelorhood (Iburo) for Bubu, we decided to have a blast. The rituals at lunch time were over and done with, and we were literally getting bored after that. At 8 in the evening, six of us including the would-be groom gatecrashed into a Saltlake Sector V pub to have a real party. Bubu himself described it as the “final piece of enjoyment” before getting hitched for a lifetime. We danced ourselves crazy to the loudest pieces of music you could ever hope to hear. For Bubu, it was as if he was emancipating himself even before bondage. On marriage day he had to get up at 4am for some small rituals, but the previous night, we returned at 1.30am. So basically that night he had less than 3 hours of sleep. That took its toll the next morning however, albeit to a very small extent.

It was a fantastic buildup to the marriage itself, and the best was yet to come. More of that in my next post !! So stay tuned…

An ensemble of sheer brilliance….

Sunday, the 17th of July 2011, will always be enshrined in my memory as a day to cherish and savor. It was an evening when three of India’s greatest classical artistes unleashed their rarest talents and overawed an audience who were left to ponder over their greatness. Pandit Bickram Ghosh, with his electro-classical variety of percussion, and, Shobha Mudgal and Bombay Jayshri with their “jugalbandi” of Hindustani Classical and Carnatic classical music, literally set the stage on fire at the MLR convention Centre in Whitefield.

I had never attended Shobha Mudgal at a live concert, which was always a grievance to date. Yesterday, I was fortunate enough to absorb every moment of this rarest of rare opportunities. It is not that I am very knowledgeable about the nitty-gritties of Indian Classical music, but when great artistes put forward such extraordinary renditions, they are a therapeutic treat to the soul and senses.

Pandit Bickram Ghosh was the first one to take stage however. He has always been an artiste who loves to engage the audience with anecdotes, little details about the number that he and his team is about to play, the “raagas” involved and so on. Yesterday was no different. He pumped us up straight away. That made the experience all the more exciting and sweet. He started with the “Dance of Shiva” which was based on “Raag Jog” and never looked back, until he signed off with a number that was part of his debut album with Sony Music in 2000, based on “Raag Banjara.” We clapped, we whistled, we moved with the rhythm and we enjoyed. His music was a confluence of the east and the west, classical and rock, orthodox and the abstract. I was attending Bickram Ghosh live after almost 8 years, and it left me speechless.

The ten-minute break between performances seemed too little to take us out of the awe that Pandit Bickram had put us into. Shobha Mudgal and Bombay Jayshri, in “jugalbandi”, were much more purely classical in their performance, serene, slow and soothing, but equally enthralling. They were more focused in performing themselves, and did not engage the audience too much. That was the biggest contrast between the two sets of performers. If Pandit Bickram set our hearts pumping, Shobha and Jayashri cooled us down, with their greatness.

The experience would not have been a reality if Kuhu had not informed me about the happening of the event, the venue, and the contact person for passes. Hence I am thankful to her as well. At the end of it all, we were left to remember, ponder, reflect and savor the performances of these magnificent sons and daughters of our proud motherland. In a nutshell, we were enriched by an ensemble of sheer brilliance.

Enlighten your loved ones, but never hold yourself accountable for their misery…..

Some relationships, sometimes, make you feel shockingly helpless. The bonds are so strong that you cannot let them go, but at the same time you are frustrated that they are not on the path of truth, righteousness and self-dignity.As an individual, I strongly uphold my self-esteem and principles. Hence it becomes extremely difficult to handle a situation, where, my loved one keeps compromising on these attributes, and most importantly, never listens to my words of abandoning such cowardly acts inspite of suffering immensely for this folly.

A scenario arises where your loved one is complaining to you about his/her sufferings in life, you have the solution to the malady, you provide that to him/her, but he/she is not strong enough to implement that solution and end the suffering. It is very frustrating and infuriating for you in such a circumstance. Neither can you abandon your loved one with his/her problem, nor can you find peace with yourself by solving the problem.

In the Mahabharata, Bhishma had asked for the remedy to his woes to Lord Krishna. He had pleaded enlightenment on what is the right path for him – to provide moral and armed support to the Pandavas, or to get rooted like an immovable banyan tree to his paternal Hastinapur, thereby fighting for the prurient Duryodhana. The dilemma for Bhishma was that he knew Pandavas were on the path of truth, but he also knew that Duryodhana was the face of the kingdom by virtue of being Dhritarashtra’s eldest son. Lord Krishna had advised him not to divert from truth, but Bhishma ultimately took Duryodhana’s side in Kurukshetra and got laid in a bed arrows until death. This was the culmination of his one wrong decision despite knowing what was right and what was not.

Lord Krishna had later said that his job was to explain the right things to Bhishma, but the job of implementation was upto him. At the end of the day, decision making and assertiveness has to be the prerogative of the person who is suffering, although imparting enlightenment and wisdom is the duty of well wishers. The latter should be in no way held responsible for the miseries of the former, especially if words wisdom had not been hidden.

I guess, this philosophy is easier said than followed in actual life, but there is no doubt that this is the wisest thing to do. Hope I and all others like me can do the same and save themselves from unnecessary emotional disturbances. After all, detachment and performance of duty, and not the repurcussions of these, are the two pillars on which our religion stands, isnt’t it?

Anna and Baba have sent shock waves among India’s leadership brigade…..

It has been almost a month-and-a-half since we first saw a septuagenarian Gandhian rise like a phoenix from the ashes, and take the government head-on, to curb corruption and elicit accountability and integrity amongst people who have responsibility and power. As he conducted his first fast, the media enlightened us a lot more about him and his past. The government started to take notice as well, and a Lokpal Bill with relevant provisions was mooted.

The only reason why an irrelevant Lokpal Bill, with a whole bag of loopholes, has not been passed in Parliament is because Anna has not let that happen. He has rightly demanded that each and every of the 1 billion heads in this enormous and diverse country have to come under the purview of this bill, including the PM and judiciary. Quite expectedly, this has not gone down well with the policy makers, but the agitation continues on our part through Anna.

However, just as the policy makers were slowly starting to immune themselves from the Anna struggle, Baba Ramdev gave them a huge jolt. He started agitations and fasts to bring back black money which are stashed away in foreign banks for the last 50 years. This was even deadlier to the government, because unlike a low-profile Anna, Baba, through his Yoga exploits, has become a huge mass leader. He can gather millions with just one call for justice. That is what exactly happened at the Ramlila Maidan in New Delhi last week. On top of that, there were thousands of NRIs who were with Baba from foreign shores. This rattled the governement to such an extent that they were forced to evict Baba with all his supporters out of New Delhi in midnight hours, through brutal police force. Some columnists have also compared this incident to the infamous Jallianwala Bagh massacre of 1919.

It is now imperative that Anna and Baba compliment each other to the fullest, and bring the perpetrators of corruption down on their haunches. They have singular styles of revolt – one is austere, non-violent, demure and believes in deeds more than words, while the other is flamboyant, well-versed, expressive and motivating. Right now there is talk that Anna and Baba should combine their movements and become an even more potent force against money-laudering and corruption. I really do wish that this happens, because their independent movements have sent shock waves amongst India’s leadership brigade. Their combined movement would uproot them.

Bangalore needs to address some serious issues to sustain growth….

I have spent almost four years now in the garden city of Bangalore. I have witnessed the rapid growth in the infrastructure here in that period of time – roads, shops and malls, multiplex theatres, ring roads (albeit they are tolled right now), meaningful flyovers that really reduce commuter time without creating bottlenecks, and of course, housing societies. It is absolutely incredible to see that almost every other day, new housing complexes with all modern amenities required, and plush and spacious villas are coming up on the outskirts of the city at strategic locations.

People in my hometown in Kolkata, who have never been here, knowingly or otherwise have always showered praise and expressed awe at the mere thought of their son/daughter getting a job here. However, are things really that good here? Or to put it in another way, are all the good things that are happening here really enough to sustain this unprecedented mad growth in human capital? The question becomes all the more relevant, especially, when we consider that Bangalore is the IT hub of India, almost 35% of India’s technical workforce are based here.

The two biggest problems here according to me are the availability of electricity and water. These are, on the whole, India’s problems as well, but it seems that other cities are better off. These problems are even more exaggerated in summer. One wonders during that time, when water supply is only for a couple of hours a day, that how on earth we are working in the world’s biggest company, and at the same time do not have enough water to take a shower at a convenient time.

In my childhood days, I had heard stories about the dark days in villages. Apart from regular power cuts, there is another problem that exists in rural India. The power goes off as soon the wind picks up to 50 km/hr, or there is slight heavy rainfall with lightening. This is exactly the phenomenon that is commonplace in Bangalore. Sometimes we get the impression that we are living in a remote village in Bihar or Chattisgarh and not in the Silicon Valley of India.

Hence the bottom line is irrespective of how much improvement is achieved in infrastructure and job creation, it is imperative and obligatory for Bangalore to provide uninterrupted supply of electricity and power to all its citizens all the time. Otherwise, it would not be long before Gurgaon, Noida and Pune would become flocking capitals for India’s youth brigade.

Importance of English being stressed is a good sign….

About ten months back, on this very blog, I had commented that there is a severe crunch of good English speakers these days, especially among the youth we talk to and meet in our everyday lives. It was very refreshing indeed to see that last week, Chetan Bhagat opined on this very issue in an editorial on TOI.

The fan-following and the literary stature that Bhagat enjoys among Indian youth are bound to trigger an earnest effort on the part of the latter to improve their English speaking and writing skills. Chetan, in that column itself, has also suggested ways on how to improve one’s ability to use and apply the language cogently and in a very simple manner. For me, that column is a highly recommended piece of reading.

There is still a high proportion of young kids in our country who have no option but to study in non-english speaking schools, thanks to the lack of vision and the atrocities of the responsible authorities including parents. Learning the English laguage well becomes all the more imperative for these kids, because they have to put in that extra bit of hard work and inconvenience compared to their more fortunate counterparts who study in english-speaking schools.

Bhagat’s ideas may not yield results overnight, because good spoken English is a process rather than an event. You need time to master it. However, such good advice is always worth considering, especially if it comes from somebody who is a master of writing the most enthralling of novels in the simplest of words.