Before criticizing

Never criticize a man until you've walked a mile in his moccasins. -- Native American Proverb

I have loved this quote ever since I first read this quote. I am very slow to form any type of opinion about anyone. Though I make a mental picture of everyone instantly but I take very long time to bring them on my lips. Usually I just skip the latter part and keep them to myself or share with some very hand-counted people. People about whom I am confident that will rectify me if they think I am wrong.

Very frankly speaking its very easy to say, “I would have never done that.” But if we dig deep we will see that almost all actions have roots far deeper than what we see from above. And in most cases, if we go down with the root a little, with an open mind we will see that his life was leading to it.

No normal human being can happily do wrong things, so when someone does some thing wrong it means that there was something wrong with his life, or the circumstances in which the thing happened. Before hating or pointing our finger at him we should see and feel his condition.

Dignity

One's dignity may be assaulted, vandalized and cruelly mocked, but cannot be taken away unless it is surrendered.
-- Michael J. Fox

This is so very true. No one can take away our dignity as long as we don’t let them take it away. And dignity is never to be given away. No one but God can demand our dignity to be surrendered before her. That is why she never demands it from us.

We often hurt ourselves by thinking that that “this” man has ruined our dignity, well; he can ruin our reputation but not dignity. Dignity is just where it was before. Scandalizing has not hurt it an ounce.

Those people who have the courage of walking their own path may meet these attacks again and again. They should always keep the words said in this quote in mind. No one can take away any thing from us unless we surrender it to him.

Anything

Anything you could ever want or be you already have and are. -- David Russell

A handful of pearls stringed together to be worn by any one who can realize their worth. Ever since the day I started to believe this quote my life became happier and content.

It’s a beautiful truth; we are what we wanted to be. If we don’t like it we can always improve ourselves to better but we should never be upset or sad.

There are some exceptions to every case, but most of us consciously make ourselves. We change ourselves due to different reasons and chisel out the latest versions. But we should always remember one thing, human soul is made of light, we can any time remodel it if we sincerely try. It’s not made of stone or metal that once done is done, there is no turning back.

I have seen people changing themselves completely, sometimes for better sometimes for worse.

Age and wisdom

Not by age but by capacity is wisdom acquired….. Titus Maccius Plautus

Wisdom has nothing to do with age. I have seen senior citizens innocent as small babes and young men and women as wise as sage. Just think, all the prophets of human history have gained immense wisdom before reaching maturity.

How much wisdom a person will be able to soak depends on his capacity. Some people soak wisdom by instinct. It appears as if they become wise by just being. They don’t need to study hard, they just read all the things we read and simply squeeze out the wisdom out of that. Have seen so many of them that I know its true about some people. They are just wise.

No one looks at their black hair, they just listen to them when they speak and realize that they are speaking the facts of life. They are uttering the greatest words of wisdom with the ease of a seventy year old weather ripe person.

An easy life

Do not believe that he who seeks to comfort you lives untroubled among the simple and quiet words that sometimes do you good. His life has much difficulty... Were it otherwise he would never have been able to find those words.
-- Rainer Maria Rilke

We very quickly form this opinion. A person who is smiling too much has never tasted pain. A person who preaches has not seen the real life from close circles. Mostly it is wrong. He has suffered that is why he is offering you the counsel. So that you are spared from the pain. Or may be he has seen someone else suffer. That is why he is able to offer you the counsel.

People who are courageous and wise rarely discuss their own pain and sufferings. For they know that they have reached this place of peace after suffering too long and bringing back those memories will only cause them further pain, without any gain. Just like putting finger in a wound that is healing. So they avoid those memories after learning lessons from them, and prefer to share their lessons with others so they are spared from committing the same follies.

A river flowed by

My ancestral homes are situated on both banks of damodar river. One in burdwan, the one in which I lived till 7^th august 2007 and the second one in the opposite side of damodar, where our ancestors lived for centuries. Our old, almost ruined home is there. Every year Durgapuja is held there with a huge gathering. Apart from that Kalipuja is held with a small gathering and every other puja is performed in the temples created by my ancestors.

 

Damodar is most probably one of the most attractive rivers in India, it’s a very wide river, but maximum proportion of the river bed is sand, with small streams of water running through them. Crystal clear water, sometimes just wetting your feet and sometimes upto throat or may be more.  We were terrorized by elders and villagers that there are shifting sands and other scary things so we never ventured much.

 

I personally believe that most probably sometimes the sand banks gave away beneath the feet of a non swimmer plunging him into very deep water without any chances of getting out. We have seen those sand banks without water, they are sometimes very high, fifteen or twenty feet, may be more. And just like any other sand sculpture they are always ready to crumble.

 

I have spent a lot of time in the companionship of this river. One of my favourite hobbies was to wake up before dawn and take the longest possible route to the river bridge, watch the sunrise there and return home.

 

During the durgapujas I used to spend a lot of time having fun on its banks with my nephew and nieces. Splashing in the water and playing with the sand. Or just sitting there and talking for hours. Watching the river and enjoying its serene beauty.

A neem tree

How many of you have had a huge neem tree in your garden? We had one, in our courtyard; I think it was older than me. I recollect seeing it when I have visited my home as a small baby. Then childhood memories are quite tricky, but its trunk was massive so it might have been older than me. It was chopped down by the same troll, the greatest troll I have ever met in my lifetime and am not very keen to meet another or him again.

 

Neem trees are really beautiful, a little messy because they shed leaves but they compensate by wonderfully fragrant flowers. I love the fragrance of neem flowers and they look very beautiful too. I used to put the branches in flower vase after storm, they stayed fresh for a day or two, without fragrance though.. only the beauty.

 

The branches of this tree touched our roof, and created a wonderful hiding place for me, I used to climb down on a wide parapet with a book, or walkman and sit there for hours. I could see the surrounding from the cover of the leaves but was only partially visible to others. It gave a sense of disappearance in the crowd.

 

There were lots of squirrels on that tree; it also invited parrots and other birds with its ripe fruits. Parrots and koyals used to come and eat those bitter sweet fruits, my siblings also relished them, I tried a couple of times but did not love them much. I preferred the flowers and the tree itself.

 

We used to climb it a lot before a creeper completely covered it, that creeper had thorns, so we were deprived of that joy thereafter.

 

When a tree is standing in your garden for years it becomes like a living being, someone you know, I wonder why trolls don’t feel the same way. These people have an inborn hatred for every thing beautiful I believe, and its really painful to live around them.

Summer

I am almost nonchalant about summer. As long as the power cuts are not driving me crazy. I don’t get much exasperated by heat. If I can stay away from roads of Kolkata and its buses I can happily suffer summer.

 

To me summer means my childhood days, the strict instructions from adults to not venture out in sun, to avoid sunstroke. We just waited for mom to fall asleep, and then were out in the garden. Sometimes stuffing ourselves with pickles, tamarinds or fruits from trees and sometimes running barefoot on the burning pavement to catch the kulfiwala.. the ice-cream man.

 

Summer noon in UP meant absolute silence, it was so hot that even birds did not made sound, sometimes a crow cawed breaking the silence, that’s all. The only sound we could hear in those three or four hours was the bells of the kulfiwala, braving the summer sun for livelihood.

 

The summer of west Bengal is romantic if you live in a small town, with trees and birds around you. People take a siesta because the humidity makes them drowsy. The noon are silent, all you will hear is birds calling. The doves calling their mates in a sleepy tone or crows and bulbuls calling out. In Toto it’s a dreamy atmosphere. To be felt from the very depth of heart.

Monsoon

I was born in UP and lived outside West Bengal for the first sixteen years of my life. Mostly in UP and Delhi, places which don’t have much rain fall. There rain is fun, joy and very quick affair, it pours and stops.

 

I shifted to the greenest district of West Bengal. Burdwan district is the greenest district of west Bengal and its greenery is a feast for eyes. It can be relished to its utmost if one travels in some local train from Kolkata to burdwan, a thing which I have done for years and it was awesome. To see those fields of luscious green paddy stretched on both sides is a heavenly feeling.

 

My home had a garden in frontage, quite a big one, with trees and shrubs of all size and shape. Before joining a job going out in rain is an optional matter, so I relished monsoon or rain fall for quite a long span of time. It was a real joy to watch rain pouring down on the trees and bushes, cleaning them up and leaving them sparkling.

 

When the rain was over the drops of water still sparkled on the leaves and bushes, just like small drops of pearl.

 

Rain is a really enjoyable thing if it lasts for a reasonable time-span and you don’t have to go out in it. Or the clogged water of street drains doesn’t enter your house. The greatest agony of a huge proportion of Kolkata residents.

Rain man

Its one of the cutest movies I have ever seen. A spoilt young man comes to know from his father’s will that he has given away all his money to a trust. He finds out that the whole money is given to his autistic elder brother through that trust.

 

He goes there, plots a plan that he will either win his custody or force the lawyers to pay him half  his father’s property. He coaxes Raymond, his elder brother to go away with him. Thus starts a journey, ending in Raymond’s winning love of his brother.

 

In the end Raymond had to return to the asylum because he was too sensitive to live in real world but he transforms his brother completely. He becomes a loving and caring person from a self centered, sometimes mean guy.

 

It’s a worth watching movie, a truly heart warming movie full of beauty of human soul.

 

Pets

Ever since my childhood I have had pets at my home. Of all types and species I guess, except reptiles and illegal ones. Name them, and we had them cow, birds, cats, monkey, cats, dogs, fishes, rabbits.

 

If you have a spacious house and someone to care for them pets can be great thing. But one should never have pets unless one really cares about them and is capable of taking care of them.

 

My cherished ones were a spitz Misha, a cat Cato, budgerigars and rabbits. Though I have voluntarily taken care of the pets of other family members but these four were my pet ones.

 

Misha was a very important part of my life. She needs special description so I will just leave her with saying that my family members used to call her my daughter.

 

Cato, I rescued  him from drain, he became a darling part of my life. Then just like tomcats he left us. He later came back once or twice but was scared of us then and did not stay. It was a great fun to have him around.

 

The budgerigars were very cute but I was happy when they broke free.

 

The rabbits were the cutest pets I guess. We bought a pair and soon our home had quite an ample number of their offspring. They dug their own holes in the garden and lived there. But we had to keep an eye on them, the moment we realized that the mother was pregnant we had to trick her to the cage so she could have her babies there safely. The first time she had her babies in the hole was horrible. It was lucky that we saw them in the drain, red ants have attacked those tiny things before their eyes were opened, we had to pull those ants out and place them in the cage with their mother. After that we kept a watch that she does not bring forth her babies in the hole. It was a great joy to see those tiny bundles of fur.

 

I really think that every spacious household which can spare some time should have some pet. They make our lives complete.

Caged Birds

I really don’t like caged birds. I have once bought a cage full of budgerigars and after that I decided I will never keep a bird in cage.

 

Budgerigars are fabulous looking birds, they look like miniature parrots with different colour, completely different from parrots, their main colours are white, sky blue, turmeric yellow, lemon yellow and green. They have to be kept in cages which will give them a little place to fly, if you hang some appropriate earthen pots inside their cages they breed in captivity.

 

I have kept their cage in a verandah attached to our kitchen, which descended on the courtyard. Flocks of parrots always came to my home, always trying to build their nests in the mammoth sized drain pipes which released the rain water from roof.

 

It really was tormenting to see the budgerigars clinging to the net and crying in response to their cries. I was really happy when they flew away one by one (of course without my knowledge) after breaking the net of their cage by their sharp beaks. I never bought birds again.

Maupassant

I have always admired Maupassant, ever since I read his story “The necklace” in my early childhood (translation).

I was gifted a compilation of his short stories a decade ago and have been reading it since then, I believe I have already read it more than a dozen times, finished it a fortnight back and am eager to start it all over again.

My admiration for him has shot up ever since I have started to write myself. I don’t call myself a writer, I just love to write. M y only alibi is its better to write something than watch movies to kill time. It keeps the brain active and improves one’s linguistic expertise.

Back to Maupassant, if any one asks me to crown my favourite short story writer, I will simply place my crown at his feet. He is a magician. With limited words he can stir any soul which is open. Make them a better person.

The more I read his works the more I become mesmerized, how easily and expertly he touches the very soul and illuminates them.

His stories are full of human compassion (not for very conservative persons, I should humbly warn).

Cacophony

I believe every horror or suspense movie addict will share my misery. The hero/heroine is walking through dangerous alleys, darkness surrounds her, our breath stops… suddenly our heart leaps sky high, just misses the ceiling by an inch. Not because a horrible thing leapt out of darkness, but because of a shrill background music of horrible composition.

You will feel that your heart will simply explode. Then you will scramble for the mouse to turn down the volume before angry neighbours start to curse you in their heart because it’s late at night and you love to watch horror movies late at night.

 

I love a good horror, thriller, sci-fi and suspense movie that is why I notice this thing so keenly. Fortunately I watch them from home, in computer so I keep my hand on the mouse to choke that sudden blare of cacophony. I pity those who have to go through that blast in auditoriums.

 

Horror or suspense works best without background music. Because then you are completely in dark about what is in the director’s mind.

Kapalkundala

I was very young when I first read Kapalkundala by Bankimchandra, I remember that I loved Kapalkundala since our first introduction.. though I was too young to understand her then, still I wanted to be as brave and honest as her. Being a book worm I have devoured hundreds of books but I have not met a character like kapalkundala again.. she is unique, perfect in my eyes.

 

A little girl most probably abducted by a tantrik, being brought up by him with not very honorable intentions in a scary forest. She grew up roaming in the forest completely alone, serving the tantrik she called father, her only other companion was the priest of a nearby temple.

 

He rescues the hero, nabakumar who gets lost in the forest. Though she knew that the tantrik will kill both of them, still she saves him from being sacrificed and takes him to the priest. He marries them off and requests nabakumar to take her with him. Who happily does so, first reason because she saved his life and second reason was she was gorgeous, even though she was a perfect tomboy.

 

He brings her home, her family members too start to love her. She was a very charming lady, her domestic skills were perfect, but she just did not knew any thing about married life and was not least keen to learn any thing about conjugal life. Her husband’s love for her was so deep that he did not forced any thing on her but waited patiently.

 

Fate had something else in plan, nabakumar’s first wife who deserted him for money comes back to his life and falls in love with him. She slowly poisons his mind, convincing him that kapalkundala refuses him because of infidelty.

 

In a strange irony of fate nabakumar hands her over to the same tantrik from whose claws she has saved him risking her own death..

 

The tantrik asks nabakumar to bathe her and bring her back to his hut for sacrificing. As they both were standing in the river bank, Nabakumar’s love overpowers his hatred and he begs her to tell him that she is not infidel. She calmly says that he is the only man she has ever loved. When nabakumar asks her why had she not told him before, she calmly says because he did not asked.

 

The river bank collapses and they both perish in the raging river.

 

The traits which make me Kapalkundala’s admirer are her complete un atachment to material things..she gave away her entire box of jewellery to a beggar.

Her extreme honesty and truthfulness is the second trait of her which is magnetic to me.

 

Her fearlessness.. lack of fear for any thing including death is something I would have loved to have within me.

books

Well, I am one of those blessed creatures who was born in a family of bookworms.. who was surrounded by books instead of toys and expensive clothes.

 

A family where money was spent on books and true education, not on material luxury.

 

I have read all types of books .. actually devoured them. starting from cheap thrillers to writers like maxim gorky. No, I don’t read any thing but fiction.. I am not a serious reader. I have read non fiction only in school, college and other spheres of study.

 

Books are the best friend any human being can have, all he/she will have to do is select the type of book which will help him or her to reach his destination.

 

I will simply love to share some of the writers and books I have been touched by. I cant put my finger on a particular writer and say he/she is my favourite.. actually I cant even pin point half a dozen of them as my favourites..

Bibhutibhushan

This is another author my mother taught to love. She was a big fan of bibhutibhushan bandhopadhyay, so am I, just like most of the bengalis, I first read his pather panchali and cried like a river. I first came across this book when I was studying in raisina bengali school, delhi and instantly started to dote after durga. And that girl still holds a piece of my heart, and always will. With time I started to pity sarbajaya, love indir thakrun, feel ranu’s pain. But my first affection was for durga. I have read this book atleast fifty times and can read it again with great pleasure.

 

A simple story written by a fantastic writer, in gist, so simple a story, just like of human bondage by somerset maugham.. struggles of a clubfooted, ordinary boy. Pather panchali is struggle of a village boy, his entire life. Yet the magic touch of the master sculptor made the entire difference. Its one of my hot favourite books.

 

Just a little more adored is another masterpiece by him, aranyak, not very popular, even though I don’t know why, may be because most of the people don’t feel strong bonding with nature. The bonding which is reflected in every line of this book. Now, as I am writing this a piece of me is asking me to get up and get the book and start reading it. it’s a fantastic, divine story of a surveyor appointed by a landlord to chop off a forest and sell that land, how he fell in love with that forest and how it broke his heart when he had to order his people to chop it off. I will never forget those descriptions of simple life of rural people and tribals. The gorgeous beauty of virgin forest.

 

He was one of his kind writers, one of those who has left a priceless heritage for coming generations, books which can be relished again and again with same love.

Save me not from dangers

Save me not from dangers

give me the courage to face them.

I don’t want your consolation

for my aching heart, grieving soul

give me the power to overcome grief.

Don’t provide me shelter against problem

give me the strength of facing problems.

Even if I am deprived everywhere, lose all

let my soul never accept it as loss.

 

Don’t rescue me when I am in trouble

give me the power to overcome it.

Don’t carry my loads for me

give me the strength to carry it myself.

When I am happy let your face shine

in my humble, loving heart.

When the entire world turns my foe

let me not suspect your glory for a second.

Rabindranath Tagore. 

Bengali: bipode more roksha koro e nohe mor prarthana

Bow my head

Bow my head

down under your feet

drown all my arrogance

in the drops of tears.

To glorify myself

I invite insults to myself,

I waste my time flittering

around my very self.

Drown all my arrogance

in the drops of tears.

 

May I never glorify myself

in any thing I do.

Let your desires fulfill

through the life of me.

All I yearn for is

your endless peace,

your divine presence

in my very soul.

Hide my ego reveal yourself

in the lotus of my heart.

Drown all my arrogance

in the drops of tears.

 

 

 

Rabindranath Tagore.

 

Bengali: amaar matha noto kore dao

Aranyak

Its written by my favourite Bengali author, bibhutibhushan bandhopadhyay. The writer of the novel “Pather panchali” story of  Satyajit Ray ‘s legendary movie of the same name.

 

Aranyak means “of forest”. It’s a fabulous story of few years spent by a man in a remote forest covered land of Bihar. A fashionable young man of Kolkata, who had to go to Bihar for livelihood,.  How he fell in love with forest and its people. The innocent people of rural Bihar,. Who were so poor that they used to throng his Kachhari (office) to eat the leftover rice.  

 

First he was sick of that desolate land, without any companionship with kindred souls. Then he slowly fell in love with the nature. It unraveled its virgin beauty to his mesmerized eyes. In the nights he spent on horse back traveling from one place to other, while miles of land lay in front of him, miles behind him and above him the moon shined in a magical glory.

 

The acute poverty of local people, their pain, innocence, exploitations. The  cruelty of those who had the power.

 

How he tried to fill up a local pond with different types of flowers with the help of a person who was equally in love with the place. Then the sad part starts and he had to chop down the forests and every thing to distribute the lands, mostly to the corrupt and powerful people. Finally his return to Kolkata with ever-lasting memory of that beautiful place, virgin nature and human beings.