DD's

Died in Jerusalem, buried in Srinagar-V

2010-11-29T00:09:00.003+05:30

The legends regarding Jesus‟ tomb in Srinagar, and that of the Virgin Mary in Kashgar, are apparently of Islamic origin, emanating largely from the "heretical" Ahmadiyya sect. Such a creation would serve a couple of purposes: 1. That, as asserted in the Koran, Jesus was not the "son of God" but a mortal prophet, whose body was buried in Kashmir; and 2. that some presumably Moslem people are his descendants. Proponents of the Jesus-in-India theory hold up a number of other texts and artifacts they maintain "prove" not only Jesus's existence on Earth but also his presence in India. When such texts and artifacts are closely examined, they serve as no evidence at all, except of priestcraft. With one or two possible exceptions originating to a few centuries earlier, the Eastern texts regarding "Issa" seem to be late writings, some dating to the 15th and 18th centuries, based on traditions, not eyewitness accounts. Some of the "documents" are obviously fictitious, and others are downright ridiculous, such as the Bhavishya Mahapurana. A number of these texts merely relate the basic gospel story with embellishments depending on what the storyteller is attempting to accomplish. Over the centuries Jesus‟ so-called "lost years" and post-crucifixion life have provided much fodder for the fertile human imagination, leading to speculation, legends, traditions and myths that the great Godman and sage lived and studied in a variety of places. Once the fable of Christ became popular, numerous towns, villages, cities and nations wished to establish some sort of connection. Instead of recognizing that such a significant omission as Jesus‟ "lost years" is an indication of the mythical nature of the tale, individuals using typical priest craft have come up with countless extraordinary adventures of the "historical Jesus." Unfortunately for the believers, however, not only is the gospel story itself but so too are these Jesus-the-Globetrotter tales mere deluding smoke and mirrors, and the reason for the gap in Jesus‟ biography is because he was not a "real person" but a pagan Sun God turned into a Jewish messiah. In the myths revolving around the Sun God, there need be no accounting for "lost years," as the "age" of 12 represents the sun at high noon, while the 28 or 30 represents the days of the lunar or solar months, respectively. When religions are investigated with a profound knowledge of mythology, the correspondences are clearly revealed, and it becomes evident that it is not the case that this miracle worker or that Godman travelled to this place or that, as has been rumoured to have occurred with just about every God or Goddess. In actuality, it is the legends, traditions and myths concerning these Gods, God men or gurus that have been spread far and wide by their proponents, priests and propagandists. As was the case with the missionary and his brother in Japan, who were taken for the object of worship they were proselytizing, so has it developed in other parts of the world over the millennia concerning not only Jesus but also many other deities, such as the virgin-born, crucified Mexican God Quetzalcoatl, whose similar "life" and religion led to claims that "Jesus" was in America. The reason for the similarities, however, is because both Jesus and Quetzalcoatl are Sun Gods with the same attendant holidays and practices. In the final analysis, it is not possible that Jesus could have lived years after the crucifixion, fathered children and died in several different places, as legends represent. The past explanation for such discrepancies has been metaphysical, deeming Jesus to be multidimensional and capable of simultaneous incarnations in various locations. Such an explanation, of course, will not satisfy the sceptic and scientist. The mythologist has studied in depth the productions of the human mind. Because the basic story of Christ revolves around the sun, which was highly esteemed the world over beginning many millennia ago, the myth is likewise found around the globe. To the basic mythos and ritual were added various embellishments according to the place and era, and for a variety of reasons. In the end, Jesus the Globetrotter is a not a historical personage who magically appeared all over the world, bi-locating and flying on the backs of birds. "Jesus Christ" is mythical creature, to be found globally only between the pages of a book.

Died in Jerusalem, buried in Srinagar-IV

2010-11-29T00:08:00.003+05:30

Notovitch claimed that Indian merchants brought the account of "Jesus" to Himis, and that they had actually witnessed the crucifixion. Indeed, the text begins with "This is what is related on this subject by the merchants who come from Israel," reflecting not that "Jesus" lived in India but that the Jesus tradition was brought to India and Tibet. (Notovitch, 32) Notovitch's text also did not state that Jesus was specifically at Hemis: In fact, the lama stated that the Issa scrolls "were brought from India to Nepal, and from Nepal to Tibet." Yet, upon returning to Hemis through later visitors, the story eventually became morphed into "Your Jesus was here," meaning at Hemis itself. The "one book" or "two manuscripts" became "three books," which were displayed for the later visitors, with the implication that there was more to the tale. Although subsequent visitors were presented such texts, none but Nicholas Roerich's son, George, could read them. By his translation, Roerich was evidently shown the same text as Notovitch. Thus, it appears that there was only one text at Hemis, and that it did not state that Issa himself was ever at the monastery. Furthermore, that one text is based on hearsay provided by passing merchants and does not at all represent an "eyewitness" account of "Jesus" in India and Tibet, although the impression is given that this and other texts do constitute such records.Also, Notovitch asked if "Issa" was reputed to be a saint, and was informed that "the people ignore his very existence" and that the lamas who have studied the scrolls "alone know of him." These remarks are a far cry from Roerich's claim that the tale of "Christ" in India and other parts of Asia was to be found widespread. They also contradict the Tibetan text's own assertion that Issa's "fame spread everywhere" and that Persia and surrounding countries "resounded with prophecies" of Issa, thus causing the Persian priesthood to be terrified of him. This latter element sounds like typical mythmaking, especially since there were similar prophecies of Godmen for centuries, if not millennia, prior to Christ's purported advent, particularly in India. Moreover, the "originals" of the scrolls housed at the Tibetan capital, Lhasa, were composed in Pali, while the Hemis library contained one copy in Tibetan. Yet, the Tibetan alphabet was developed by the king who "reigned in the days of Mohammed"; hence, nothing could have been written in Tibetan prior to the 7th century. Although older texts were composed in Sanskrit or Pali, it is clear that the actual physical manuscript revealed to Notovitch could not have existed before the 7th century. In fact, it would appear that very few Tibetan texts date to before the 9th century. In any event, the manuscript itself certainly did not date from the third century, although it could represent tradition transmitted over the centuries. While Notovitch claimed the Issa story dated to shortly after "the Resurrection," in it there is no mention of the resurrection, and the tale ends with Issa's death. In this regard, the text depicts the "Jews," whom it calls "Israelites," in a favourable light, and is "the only [manuscript] ever to charge the Romans ["pagans"] solely for Jesus' execution." Unlike others, this account does not have Jesus being resuscitated and then returning to India, to father children and live a long life. Notovitch's modern editor, Frank Muccie, relates that the manuscript states, "Pilate is responsible for removing Jesus' body from the tomb," noting that this development somehow does not "mean the resurrection hope is invalid." He then says:"By the third century A.D., there were no fewer than 25 different versions of Jesus' death and resurrection! Some have him not being put to death at all, some have him revived back to life, and some have Jesus living on to old age and dying in Egypt!" (Notovitch, 6)Obviously, not all of these 25 or more accounts can be "true and genuine," and such a development casts doubt on the historicity of one and all.

Died in Jerusalem, buried in Srinagar-III

2010-09-20T19:06:00.002+05:30

According to old gazetteer records: “In 1898, Richardson, the Garrison Engineer, wished to demolish the tomb at the time of the construction of the defence tower. Shortly afterwards he died in an accident, and the locals connect the incident with his evil intentions towards the tomb.” The grave was thereafter promptly repaired. A little further down the ridge, the British built a convent and named it the Convent of Jesus and Mary. Today, it is one of the best girls‟ boarding schools in Pakistan. After partition the government of Pakistan procured this site from private landowners. This place was preferred due to its suitable elevation for the purpose of installation of TV transmitters. More recently in 1968, two towering antennas were added adjacent to one another on "Pindi Point‟, which the new name is given to the location. One of them arises from the same place where Mary is believed to rest. Crude looking cemented structure marks the spot nowadays where the alleged grave exists. The area is closed to general public due to security concerns for the safety of the TV boosters. Barbed wire surrounds the antennas to prevent anybody from getting near and civil guards keep a vigil on the installations night and day. Various superstitions surround the story of the tomb. Local residents have reported occasional sightings of unexplained luminosities in the vicinity of the grave, at night. Others describe rare encounters with a ball of light condensing into a fuzzy apparition of a veiled female form. Most of the eyewitnesses questioned believed the images were genuine and are connected to the woman buried on the hilltop who many also regard as a saint. Sometime back, a low-key investigation was carried out by a team of archaeologists, on duty from Islamabad. However, their findings, which were supposedly carried out to validate the tomb claim, were never made public. Sceptics from the field argue that regardless of the outcome of the team‟s findings, it cannot be accepted as the final verdict on the issue. As an expert puts it, “While serious research of this nature requires extensive excavation, the visit by those archaeologists in the past was merely a superficial survey.”Amongst the Christians, there is a group that believes in a post-crucifixion life of Jesus Christ. They insist that Christ travelled to Kashmir with his mother where he died. They believe that Mother Mary was also laid to rest in the same region. The Muslim view conflicts with the theory that Christ was crucified or that he ever died. Islam holds that Hazrat Isa ascended into the heavens by Divine command. Nevertheless, many Muslim devotees do not rule out that Hazrat Marium may have been buried in Murree. They quote the following verse from the Holy Quran in order to substantiate their claim:“And we made the son of Marium and his mother a sign, and we gave them shelter on a lofty ground having meadows and springs” [Surah: 23 Al-Mominoon (The Believers) Ayah 50]. They argue that the aforementioned scripture does not correspond to any landscape description in Bait-ul-Muqadas or Jerusalem. Furthermore, they point out that the mention of „lofty ground‟ with „meadows and springs‟ may perhaps is a reference to the place in question in Murree. Uncertainty surrounds other "Tombs of Mary‟ located around the world as well. One exists in Turkey. Others claim Mary was buried in France yet others say England was the place. Claims of similar nature and practice of „tomb assignment‟ to persons of significant standing is not uncommon in our own regional belt. It is thought that Hazrat Musa or Moses is buried in Bandipore, Hazrat Haroon or Aaron, at Harwan, and Hazrat Suleman or Solomon at Takht-i-Suleman in Indian occupied Kashmir. Lately, there has been growing international interest in these tombs. “I am only helping Kashmir,” says Suzanne Marie Olsson, a New York based researcher, who is on a mission to find the truth, “if the authenticity of all the holy places in Kashmir is established, it will place Kashmir firmly on global map as a leading pilgrimage site of Christians and Muslims and you will have the pilgrim traffic from all over the world.” Ms.Olsson‟s contention is equally relevant in the case of the mystery tomb in Murree. In the absence

of historical records, one is forced to rely on local legend. If any connection with Mary can be established through scientific means then the ensuing benefits to the tourism industry can well be imagined. Whilst many people remain doubtful of the claim of the tomb‟s existence, it is interesting to note that a section of Lahore‟s Badshahi mosque houses a collection of relics which are believed to belong to Prophet Muhammad (Peace Be Upon Him). These include the Mue Mubarak or the Holy Hair, his turban and a cloak among various other items on display. Hundreds of local and foreign visitors queue up daily to view these relics and to pay homage without ever questioning their authenticity. On the other hand, after undergoing extensive tests, most western scientists agree now that the famous Shroud of Turin, a woven cloth with an image of a man on it and widely rumoured for a long time to be that of Jesus Christ himself, appears to be a mediaeval art forgery more than anything else. The unprecedented technological advances made in recent years in carbon isotope dating and DNA testing methods can investigate with reasonable accuracy similar claims.In the interest of research, the gravesite should be opened for scientific study so that the issue may be resolved. Until then a question will always loom large over this riddle whether Virgin Mary is really buried in Murree. It remains an unravelled mystery.

To be continued

Died in Jerusalem, buried in Srinagar-II

2010-09-18T11:59:00.002+05:30

There are several versions on Jesus' India sojourn. Some books argue Jesus did spend as many as 16 years in India, becoming a disciple of Buddhism. But many dispute the entire version, saying there has never been conclusive evidence on Jesus' visit to India. The old debate or controversy resurfaced after Rozabal shrine of Sufi saint Yuz Asaf at Srinagar in Jammu and Kashmir banned visitors and believers alike from entering the sanctum sanctorum. It was at the Rozabal shrine, many believe, Jesus was laid to rest. However, there has not been any conclusive proof to substantiate the claim. The shrine's move comes after some believers wanted to exhume the remains to obtain carbon dating and get a DNA done."Some Christians claim it is the grave of Jesus and they had approached us with a request to exhume the remains for DNA testing. But, we refused," Mohammad Amin Ringshawl, the shrine's caretaker. As always in such cases, the ban has had a domino effect. The shrine had a mention in The Lonely Planet, a worldwide guide for travellers. As the word spread, inquisitive visitors started flocking the shrine. Angered by the sudden "interest" being shown by foreigners in the shrine, the authorities banned people from entering the shrine. Incidentally, the man -- Aziz Kashmiri, senior journalist-- who first wrote that Jesus was buried in Kashmir-- passed away recently, rekindling memories of the controversy and interest associated with the grave in the Khanyar locality. Aziz Kashmiri, the editor of a local Urdu daily Roshini, was the first to advance the theory in his book Christ In Kashmir published in 1973. The shrine shot into limelight following the publication of the book underpinning the theory "that Jesus survived crucifixion and migrated to Kashmir'. The claim is strongly contested by local Muslims who say the Rozabal shrine is the final resting place of two famous Muslim saints, Youza Asaf and Syed Naseer-ud-Din, who came here centuries ago. Ringshawl says the controversy started in 2002 when an American researcher, Suzzane Marie, had met him and other members of the shrine committee and wanted to carry out the digging to exhume the remains for DNA testing."It is un-Islamic. Further the Holy Quran clearly mentions that Jesus did not die on the cross, but was lifted to heavens by Allah.""Following our strong protests, the American lady had to leave the valley and we even filed a complaint against her in the local police station."Ringshawl said following this episode 'the entry of tourists in the shrine was banned by committee'. "We have locked the shrine and we don't even allow any photography even from outside it. They were hurting the feelings of the local Muslims." The graves of saints are covered with green cloth embroidered with verses from the Holy Quran and local Muslims often stop at the shrine to say prayers.In his book, Aziz Kashmiri writes, "Kashmiri history books tell us that Yus Asaf came from abroad. He was a prophet and a messenger. He came from Israel. He came to spread his teachings. He lived and died here. Yus Asaf was Issa. He was Jesus.""The meaning of Yus Asaf is, The Healer. Another meaning is The Shepherd the one who teaches others. Our history confirms that Issa was known as Yus Assaf, here in Kashmir.""The footprints were carved as a sign. The scars are clearly visible, sustained as he was nailed to the cross. They show that this is the same person who came here from Israel."And that he lived and died here. You won't find any footprints like these anywhere else in Kashmir."Meanwhile, in an interview to Times of India recently, Suzanne refuted allegations that she had attempted to remove anything from the tomb, or dig it up."I can't imagine who started those rumours or why," she said and maintained that the belief that there is a Muslim saint in the same tomb is untrue. "The tomb predates Islam and could never be a Muslim tomb," she was quoted as saying.

One more controversial fact that is related to the Srinagar shrine has its root in present day Pakistan. Thousands of devotees across the world believe Mother Mary is buried in Murree. But nobody has ever tried to verify the claim. Among the various, fascinating legends connected with the popular tourist resort of Murree, the self-styled „Queen of the Hills‟ in Pakistan, is a unique tale about the tomb of Virgin Mary. Believe it or not but some claim that located on a peaceful Murree hilltop is the very site thought to be the final abode or resting place of the Mother of Jesus Christ, better known to Muslims as Hazrat Marium. The site has been maintained and honoured as far back as anyone can remember. Its importance can be judged from the fact that the surrounding country is named after the supposed gravesite. According to legend, the name Murree‟ is derived from "Marium‟ or Mary.

Among locals it is known as Mai Mari da Asthan (Resting Place of Mother Mary). Indeed, when the British first arrived here in the 1850s, to establish a new hill-station in India, Murree was still known as Mari. The spelling was later changed to the present one in 1875. However, with the waves fo time, the exact origin of the shrine has become obscure. Since time immemorial, Hindus have worshipped it and the Muslims pay their homage on Thursdays by lighting earthen lamps filled with oil. Commanding, as one book puts it, “magnificent views over forest-clad hills into deep valleys, studded with villages and cultivated fields, with the snow-covered peaks of Kashmir in the background” and overlooking the plains of Punjab, it stood naturally eligible to be selected by the British for military purposes who built a watchtower at the site.

to be continued

Died in Jerusalem, buried in Srinagar I

2010-08-30T22:26:00.006+05:30

“It is simply of vital importance to find again the path to the sources, to the eternal and central truths of Christ's message, which has been shaken almost beyond recognition by the profane ambitions of more or less secular institutions arrogating to themselves a religious authority. This is an attempt to open a way to a new future, firmly founded in the true spiritual and religious sources of the past.”

- Holger Kersten, Jesus Lived In India .Penguin Books

Holger Kersten in his book claims that Jesus came to India not once but twice. Both the Testaments of Bible is silent about Jesus Christ’s life from the age of 13 to 30. Kersten claims that during these times he visited India. Not only these but also Jesus spent the last days of life in present day Kashmir. He further went on to claim that Jesus was buried in a mosque in downtown of Srinagar. Now, if these are true the question arise what happened during crucification. We are conditioned from birth to associate crucifixion with death. Many people will never have heard of the idea of survival of crucifixion. The idea of Jesus dying on the cross is something that is so widely accepted that its rarely questioned. But what happened to Jesus Christ? We are fortunate to live in modern times, when science and the field of medicine lend us powerful tools of analysis, as well as a language of medical and scientific terminology. These things even allow us to determine what may have occurred physiologically to Jesus Christ during and, assuming he survived the crucifixion, even after his ordeal on the cross. Holger Kersten has shown that, based on the Greek text of these events, it seems likely that the test for if Jesus was alive or dead was the lance used to pierce his side. As he did not react to this it was assumed he was dead. When Jesus side was pierced "blood and water" flowed out. Would this occur on a body that had been dead for some time? Hence the mystery remains. Dr Lloyd Davies, a noted British physician. Says Dr Taylor: "At his crucifixion Jesus was in shock and suffering from falling blood pressure ... his ashen skin and immobility were mistaken for death. Six hours on the cross. He fainted. A cool tomb, tended wounds and recovery. It all sounds so obvious, so simple. And it avoids the embarrassment of having to explain the resurrection of Jesus!” Kersten deduces that the tomb of Jesus Christ Himself is in Kashmir! The implications of Kersten's discovery are monumental. Christ's life in India, after the crucifixion, challenges current Church teachings at their very foundation. The theology of Saint Paul, the major influence on modern Christianity, is empty fanaticism in the light of this discovery. Threatened also are the doctrines of obedience to the Church, original sin, salvation through blind faith and the non-existence of reincarnation, etc. Yet these ideas underlie the morality and ethics, (or lack of them), that govern the entire Western social structure, from the legal system to medical health care schemes. It is no wonder that the modern Churches and their secular interests refuse to consider such a proposition as Kersten's!
Now if that is true then what happened to Jesus? Some people traces it back to Jerusalem other claims that it is in India. In 1894 Nicolas Notovitch published a book called The Unknown Life of Christ. He was a Russian doctor who journeyed extensively throughout Afghanistan, India, and Tibet. Notovitch journeyed through the lovely passes of Bolan, over the Punjab, down into the arid rocky land of Ladakh, and into the majestic Vale of Kashmir of the Himalayas. During one of his journeys he was visiting Leh, the capital of Ladakh, near where the Buddhist convent Hemis is. He had an accident that resulted in his leg being broken. This gave him the unscheduled opportunity to stay awhile at the Himis convent. Notovitch learned, while he was there, that there existed ancient records of the life of Jesus Christ. In the course of his visit at the great convent, he located a Tibetan translation of the legend and carefully noted in his carnet de voyage over two hundred verses from the curious document known as "The Life of St. Issa."He was shown two large yellowed volumes containing the biography of St. Issa. Notovitch enlisted a member of his party to translate the Tibetan volumes while he carefully noted each verse in the back pages of his journal. When he returned to the western world there was much controversy as to the authenticity of the document. He was accused of creating a hoax and was ridiculed as an imposter. In his defence he encouraged a scientific expedition to prove the original Tibetan documents existed. One of his sceptics was Swami Abhedananda. Abhedananda journeyed into the arctic region of the Himalayas, determined to find a copy of the Hemis manuscript or to expose the fraud. His book of travels, entitled ‘Kashmir O Tibetti’, tells of a visit to the Hemis Gompha and includes a Bengali translation of two hundred twenty-four verses essentially the same as the Notovitch text. Abhedananda was thereby convinced of the authenticity of the Issa legend.
.... to be continued

Katwaria Sarai

2010-06-27T18:12:00.005+05:30

My Delhi saga has just began and I have staying in this area since the last seven days.In spite of having hectic schedule I have started liking it.Katwaria Sarai is a bustling area.

As usual wherever I go I observe things going around me.

Now these are some my observations:

Its a completely Jat 'moholla' I should say.Some of my friends from North Calcutta will like this lively area well, especially if they are from Sobhabazar-Bagbazar area.

Heard that this area is the most vulnerable area to water born diseases in India. At least Calcutta Municipality will take breather when they hear this.Even former mayor Bikash Ranjan Bhattacharya can claim" Jara bolen Kolkata ta puro dengue-malaria r dera tara bhul bolen". Those who say Calcutta is a city of dengue and malaria are wrong.Or our Budhhababu can say "London noy Kolkata ke amra Katwaria Sarai banate pari jodi r o panch bochor somoy pai." Not London but we can make Kolkata a Katwaria Sarai if we are gven 5 more years.

The Blue Line buses of Delhi Transport Corporation on which it is written " Propelled by clean fuel" are much much worse than the private buses of Kolkata.

Heat?Here there should be a different scale of measurement which should be scaled at 45 degree Celsius during summer months. The sun also does some overtime here. Being a early riser I have never seen the red ball in the eastern part of the sky that I like to watch.It is alwys burning furiously.Well, as a matter of fact my day starts at 5-5:30AM. Also the ancient Egyptian God stays in his office till 8PM.

Bhai ghar jane jaruri nahi hai kya??

Yes, no Bengalees in my vicinity.At least nobody to walk with me parallely. The hostel caretaker is one but he is not in professional area.I spend time by reading Anandabazar,listening to Bengali songs.Yes I have loads of recent Bengali movies of Ravi Kinagi and Raj Chakrabarti in my hard drive.

Sanjay Van:Well it is one of the most haunted places in India.Location?In the heart of Qutab Institutional Area.To be more precise it is right in front of my institute.It is a huge forest area spread over an area of 10km.There is cremation ground inside it.

Everytime I pass by it I always think that one day I will take a walk inside it.

Our hostel is located in a very odd place.It is sandwiched inside two Jat houses.One of these houses may be termed a National Park.They have chicken coup right at their door step. Further there is battelion of bovines and nearly a dozen of dogs.All the dogs are of different breed. I have never seen German Shepherd,Alsatian,Bulldog,pug together!

Most interesting is that these people chain the cows and calves but they let the cannines go lose!!!!

Driving In India

2010-06-27T13:21:00.000+05:30

This hilarious article was written by an Expert from Baan, Netherlands who spent two years in Hyderabad.

I couldn't stop laughing while reading this! Please note this is pasted just for fun only.
I read this back in 2006. Since the original link is lost I am posting it in my blog.
This is how it goes:

Driving in India For the benefit of every Tom, Dick and Harry visiting India and daring to drive on Indian roads, I am offering a few hints for survival. They are applicable to every place in India except Bihar, where life outside a vehicle is only marginally safer.

Indian road rules broadly operate within the domain of karma where you do your best, and leave the results to your insurance company. The hints are as follows:

Do we drive on the left or right of the road?

The answer is "both". Basically you start on the left of the road, unless it is occupied. In that case, go to the right, unless that is also occupied. Then proceed by occupying the next available gap, as in chess. Just trust your instincts, ascertain the direction, and proceed. Adherence to road rules leads to much misery and occasional fatality. Most drivers don't drive, but just aim their vehicles in the intended direction. Don't you get discouraged or underestimate yourself except for a belief in reincarnation, the other drivers are not in any better position.

Don't stop at pedestrian crossings just because some fool wants to cross the road. You may do so only if you enjoy being bumped in the back. Pedestrians have been strictly instructed to cross only when traffic is moving slowly or has come to a dead stop because some minister is in town. Still some idiot may try to wade across, but then, let us not talk ill of the dead.

Blowing your horn is not a sign of protest as in some countries. We horn to express joy, resentment, frustration, romance and bare lust (two brisk blasts), or, just mobilize a dozing cow in the middle of the bazaar.

Keep informative books in the glove compartment. You may read them during traffic jams, while awaiting the chief minister's motorcade, or waiting for the rainwaters to recede when over ground traffic meets underground drainage.

Occasionally you might see what looks like a UFO with blinking colored lights and weird sounds emanating from within. This is an illuminated bus, full of happy pilgrims singing bhajans. These pilgrims go at breakneck speed, seeking contact with the Almighty, often meeting with success.

Auto Rickshaw (Baby Taxi): The result of a collision between a rickshaw and an automobile, this three-wheeled vehicle works on an external combustion engine that runs on a mixture of kerosene oil and creosote. This triangular vehicle carries iron rods, gas cylinders or passengers three times its weight and dimension, at an unspecified fare. After careful geometric calculations, children are folded and packed into these auto rickshaws until some children in the periphery are not in contact with the vehicle at all. Then their school bags are pushed into the microscopic gaps all round so those minor collisions with other vehicles on the road cause no permanent damage. Of course, the peripheral children are charged half the fare and also learn Newton's laws of motion en route to school. Auto-rickshaw drivers follow the road rules depicted in the film Ben Hur, and are licensed to irritate.

Mopeds: The moped looks like an oil tin on wheels and makes noise like an electric shaver. It runs 30 miles on a teaspoon of petrol and travels at break-bottom speed. As the sides of the road are too rough for a ride, the moped drivers tend to drive in the middle of the road; they would rather drive under heavier vehicles instead of around them and are often "mopped" off the tarmac.

Leaning Tower of Passes: Most bus passengers are given free passes and during rush hours, there is absolute mayhem. There are passengers hanging off other passengers, who in turn hang off the railings and the overloaded bus leans dangerously, defying laws of gravity but obeying laws of surface tension. As drivers get paid for overload (so many Rupees per kg of passenger), no questions are ever asked. Steer clear of these buses by a width of three passengers.

One-way Street: These boards are put up by traffic people to add jest in their otherwise drab lives. Don't stick to the literal meaning and proceed in one direction. In metaphysical terms, it means that you cannot proceed in two directions at once. So drive, as you like, in reverse throughout, if you are the fussy type. Least I sound hypercritical; I must add a positive point also. Rash and fast driving in residential areas has been prevented by providing a "speed breaker"; two for each house.

This mound, incidentally, covers the water and drainage pipes for that residence and is left untarred for easy identification by the corporation authorities, should they want to recover the pipe for year-end accounting.

Night driving on Indian roads can be an exhilarating experience (for those with the mental makeup of Chenghis Khan). In a way, it is like playing Russian roulette, because you do not know who amongst the drivers is loaded. What looks like premature dawn on the horizon turns out to be a truck attempting a speed record. On encountering it, just pull partly into the field adjoining the road until the phenomenon passes. Our roads do not have shoulders, but occasional boulders. Do not blink your lights expecting reciprocation. The only dim thing in the truck is the driver, and with the peg of illicit arrack (alcohol) he has had at the last stop, his total cerebral functions add up to little more than a naught. Truck drivers are the James Bonds of India, and are licensed to kill. Often you may encounter a single powerful beam of light about six feet above the ground. This is not a super motorbike, but a truck approaching you with a single light on, usually the left one. It could be the right one, but never get too close to investigate. You may prove your point posthumously. Of course, all this occurs at night, on the trunk roads. During the daytime, trucks are more visible, except that the drivers will never show any Signal. (And you must watch for the absent signals; they are the greater threat). Only, you will often observe that the cleaner who sits next to the driver, will project his hand and wave hysterically.

This is definitely not to be construed as a signal for a left turn. The waving is just a statement of physical relief on a hot day.

If, after all this, you still want to drive in India, have your lessons between 8 pm and 11 am-when the police have gone home and The citizen is then free to enjoy the 'FREEDOM OF SPEED' enshrined in our constitution.

Having said all this, isn't it true that the accident rate and related deaths are less in India compared to US or other countries!!? ?

Kirkee- III

2010-03-22T13:39:00.002+05:30

Feb 4^th, 11:30 PM

I switched off the light, pulled the curtains on, went under the mink blanket, and switched off the TV.

I closed my eyes but remained in that way for nearly fifteen minutes.

I felt uneasy as if something was urging from my inside that I have some big job to do tonight, so I should not sleep. The idea of sleeping beside a graveyard came in my mind. It was followed by the story Bram Stoker’s Dracula. I remembered that at home in my laptop I have the movie Rosemary’s Baby which I haven’t seen yet.

I put my cabin luggage at its proper place. I took my seat at aisle. Tirtha was fighting with Sandy over a window seat. Both of them have the reputation to fight for window seats while travelling in train. Now they are facing each other for the first time in air.

A voice was giving weather report in the flight” Pune has recorded maximum of 29 deg and minimum of 17 deg.”

“We have no idea of fog in Delhi so we can’t say whether Qutab Minar will be visible or not.”

The next day is Devarati-Anindya’s reception; I must try to attend it. Even Amrita will be there. She was present at the airport, but I can’t see her in the flight.

I was anxious about reaching in time. A bit tensed.

“oto tension noy,” said a familiar voice from behind.

Sujata spoke as if she has got immunity from her usual headaches.

I look around from my seat. I saw a lot of known faces were present.

I thought, everyone was in Pune yet I never knew!!

Suranjan? He should be in Boston right now. Then what is he doing in Flight SG212?

The flight was taking off. I wanted to go the toilet. As I stood up everything went dark.

Total black!! Then there was a huge blunt noise. Thud!

I can only hear some heavy movement behind the window. The movement was in beats at proper interval. It was coming towards my window and moving away slowly.

By now I was back in my sense. I searched for any of the following stuff:

TV remote,

My LED torch

Any of my two mobile phones.

I need to switch on the light.

I remembered to have put them beside my pillow while going to sleep.

I can still hear the sound. It was marching of heavy boots!!!

It was right behind my window.

I tried to sit up. It was pretty chilly. One mink blanket is sufficient in 17degree Celsius yet I was shivering.

I gave up looking for the remote or the torch or the mobiles.

Meanwhile, the sound was marching nearer. It reminded of the drumbeats and the Indian Army Kuchkawaz that takes place on 26th January every year.

I wrapped the blanket around me. As I stepped on the floor more surprises were in store. My chappals were gone. It seemed it has also joined the club with the remote and others.

I was keen on reaching the window. I tried to reach the switch board to turn the light on.

The carpet on the floor was very cold as if it was spread on a huge block of ice.

The light was not working!!!

I moved towards the window.

As I about to peep out of the curtain a thought flashed in my mind.

I came back and sat quietly at the edge of the bed.

I was sleeping beside a graveyard.

It is not a good idea to look for the source of the sound. All the dead soldiers were on their routine march.

I went to the dining hall. There was light outside, in the courtyard but it was flickering. I sat at the circular dining table. The head of a musk deer and the skin of tiger on opposite walls made the room appear more eerie.

I wanted to use the bathroom. But, for that I need to go near the window. I had no courage to do that.

Yes I was scared.

The idea of going to the caretaker’s bathroom came in. I opened the main entrance and stepped out in the courtyard. The caretaker’s bathroom was on the other end of the bungalow.

I stepped out and I heard the sound of boots marching nearer. This time it was very distinct. A company was marching in. It was coming just 20feet away from me.

If I go towards the end of the courtyard I will be able to see the backside of the bungalow.

I thought of going.

“There is nothing.” my mind said.

But what if my imaginations are true? No it can’t be.

I came back.

As I stepped in my room I found the light was on so was the fan. I left the switches on.

I could see the mobiles, the remote, and the torch beside my pillow. They were untouched.

The chappals were at the right place.

I picked up my Nokia2600.It was 2:37am.

There are five more hours to go for the sunrise.

For those who do not know: In this part of subcontinent the sun rises at 7AM and sets after 7PM.

I switched on the TV. Most channels were showing similar type of programs like TV Shopping, Creative Vision, Tele Shopping, Active Buying etc.

The series of incidents came that took place in the last three hours made me sleepless.

It all began with stupid thoughts, which was followed by a bizarre dream where the flight I was travelling with my near and dear ones had an air-crash.Then there was the strange sound.

Where’s the sound now? It has stopped now.

There was no sound apart from that of the TV.

I felt monophonic, I was longing for company.

5^th Feb, 10 AM

The Maruti Gypsy moved out of the CQA (M) mess main gate. The Sikh jawan stood up and saluted. I looked out to see the cemetery. It was shining in the morning sunlight. I kept looking at it until the top of the big cross disappeared from my sight.

I have spoken to my family before getting on the car. Everything was OK.

Kirkee-II

2010-03-15T06:18:00.001+05:30

continued from Kirkee-I

3:00 PM, 3^rd Feb 2010.

I checked from the care-taker of CQA (M) about the Agha Khan Palace, Dugruseth Halwai Ganesh Temple and Shanibarwada Palace and set out.

I called up Sushmita. O yes she is a Sen.

“Tumi tumtum koreo jete paro!!’.You can take tumtum

What is this tumtum all about?

They are six-seated auto rickshaws. One more big difference is that in other autos they use scooter’s handle but here they have big steering in tumtums. The view of tumtum reminded me the big10-seater autos which were among Delhi’s main attractions many years ago.

I didn’t think of tumtums but instead I took a metred auto. In Calcutta we don’t have any such autos. In Bhubaneswar autos do have meters are there but as vestigial appendages. In Mumbai and Bangalore they are present and used. Pune falls in that group.

The equation of fare is:

Total Amount = (Metered Reading X 7) – 3

It took twenty to twenty-five minutes for me to reach Yerwada, where the Palace is located. The fare was 53 rupees.

Agha Khan Palace is a marvellous white architecture surrounded by large trees with nice landscaping and lush green lawn everywhere. God knows what prompted the Agha khan to built a palace and donate it to the British only to keep our Mahatma confined after he called for Quit India Movement in 1942.This is where Kasturba died on Mahashivratri of 1944.

I later learnt that Agha Khan III built the palace with the intention to be a source of employment for the famine-struck villagers in the surrounding areas. Later his son donated it to the Government of India in 1969 in memory of MK Gandhi.

The place was not crowded and few foreign tourists were there.

The compound of the palace reminded me of our Central Park in Kolkata. Couples took every corner behind the bushes. A lone security personnel was whistling if he spots any nuisance in a place associated with Bapu. I found his whistling seldom stops, whenever he turns on one side someone starts snogging on the other. A nice cat-and-mouse game was on.

The ticket was as usual Rs.5 as in case of other monuments belonging to the Archaeological Survey of India.

The palace is a multi-storeyed building one but only the ground floor is open to the public. The palace had a good collection of items used by the Mahatma. They include charka, cutlery, bed, mattress, earthen wares, mala, chappals, letters etc. A small amount of Gandhi's ashes are kept here as well. His room along with the adjacent bathroom is maintained just as they were. In this room Kasturba died. There are several paintings depicting his life but some are damaged.

What surprised me was the bathroom attached to the room in which Mahatma and his wife stayed. It was very spacious about 20ft by 30ft. It was tiled, had modern bath tub, commode, and basin and yes a geyser. Mahatma is said to have lead a very simple life then how came his bathroom be so luxurious? This idea baffled me a lot. May be it was in a palace. I can’t comment on his other places of stay like Sewagram, Sabarmati as I haven’t visited them.

This is what I learnt while on visit to the museum:

Here Gandhiji and his wife were interned in 1942 after declaration of the ‘Quit India’ resolution. He was accompanied by Miraben, Shri Pyarelal Nayar, Smt. Sarojini Naidu, Dr. Shushila Nayar and his personal secretary Shri Mahadevbhai Desai.

Here are some of the milestones in Mahatma’s life at Aga Khan Palace.
- 10th August 1942 Gandhiji and his colleagues where brought here from Bombay
- 15th August 1942 his personal secretary and long time-aid Shri Mahadevbhai Desai dies of heart attack
- 22nd February 1944 Kasturba breathed her last after prolonged illness.
- 6th May 1944 Gandhiji and his colleagues were released from Aga Khan Palace because of his failing health and necessary surgery

A corridor followed by a walkway leads to a closed place. There is also a board, on which it is mentioned “This path was taken by Mahatma during Ba’s funeral.”

The Samadhi of Shri Mahadevbhai Desai and Kasturba are in a closed ground below the actual level of the palace. Charles Correa later built the samadhis. They are octagonal white marbled structure. They were typical Hindu memorial with a tulsi plant in each.

My next destination was Shanibarwada and Dugruseth Temple. Both are situated near Manpa (Mahanagar Palika) but across the river. The Shanibadwada fort looks classic from outside with a big cavalry statue of the Peshwa in the compound. But inside just the foundation of the majestic palace is there. Here I think some hidden vigilant cameras are absolute need. Not for security purpose but for voyeurs’ pleasure.

Shanibadwada was a wooden palace which is said to have been razed by fire.

Dugruseth Halwai Ganesh Temple is situated few hundred metres from the fort. It looks like a simple temple ,the idol can be seen from the main road.

Inside? It seemed to me that it is one of the most prosperous temples of the country. Inside the structure is silvered along with huge a chandelier at the centre of the temple’s ceiling. What caught my eyes was the pure gold ornament of Shri Ganapati.

7PM, 4^th Feb 2010.Hinjewadi.

One after the other Buses are passing by. God knows which one to take.

Jophy (Jophy Joy) suggested,” Aundh tak bus le na.”

In Infosys Jophy’s creation Channel[j] or J-Toonz are quite famous.

Sushmita Sen said” Wakad”

I came via Parihar.

Sanket is not reachable.

I need to go to Khadki Railway Station.

Boarded a tumtum.

Right opposite to me sat a girl who was speaking in Bengali in her hands free.

And her eyes were glowing simultaneously which suggested that she was planning some mischief.

“Haan,” she whispered in her phone “ shonibaar din jabo Monday-Tuesday leave nilam.”

“Take a hotel near the Pune station and spend the day here and there, I will come by the evening. Raat ta ek sathe katiye pordin Kamseth hoye,Lonavala chole jabo.Sekhane ami ghor book kore rekhechi”

“Muuahh!!”

“ Na ekhane keu Bangla bojhe na!”

I went on listening to her plans which she was explaining in my native vernacular.

She also got down at Auand with me.

“Excuse me?” I called her.

I was cautious, as I didn’t wanted her to listen to my offbeat Hindi which is always studded with gems of Bengali words.

“How to go the Khadki Bazaar?”

“Bus number 11 or 153”

Back at Torna.

I went towards the window to see the cemetery. Nothing was visible.

Dinner arrived when I was browsing the news channels on TV.

Rahul Gandhi will be on 1-day Mumbai visit. Balasaheb has called him the Prince Of Italy.

All channels were babbling the same story.

In one channel I found weather updates. Pune has recorded max. 29 deg and min 17deg.

I was much interested whether Delhi will have fog covered morning the next day because my return flight to Calcutta was via Delhi. I was not interested whether my flight will land in Delhi but whether I will be able to see the magnificent top-view of the Qutab Minar just before landing at IGI Airport.

to be continued

Kirkee-I

2010-03-08T13:44:00.001+05:30

7 AM, 3^rd Feb 2010.

Pune Railway Station

“Kirkee, Kirkee, Kirkee” Col. Lotay shouted in the phone.

I reached Pune Station by Azad Hind from Howrah sharp at 6:50pm after a journey of thirty-four hours. I am patient of colitis; moreover seldom I use the loos in train hence I wanted to reach my room as early as possible.

“Col. Lotay main Khadki suna hoon, Kirkee nahiin.”

“do no ek hi hain,the car will take you to CQA(M) OFF-MES,its in Mula Road.”

“Any nearby landmark, sir”

“Yes. It’s in the cantonment area, near the ammunitions factory “Col Lotay continues, “and you have a war memorial right next to your place of stay.”

I came out the platform and walked towards the MCO.A man in uniform came forward as if he was waiting for me and asked, ”Aap?”

I brought out my ticket and showed him my identity.

“Aiye sirji, mujhe Brig. Sharma ne bheja hai, Lotay saab aapko bataya hoga mere baare main, aaiye”

We came out of the Pune Station; I found a typical Maruti Gypsy used by the milltary was waiting for me. We left the station. After crossing the Pune Engineering College, the car took a right turn.

On the way I spotted a big Shopper’s Stop. Size? It stretched longer than the Howrah Station’s both complexes taken together. Then I spotted a board

MILLITARY AREA

KIRKEE CANTONMENTMENT BOARD

After going some distance I started seeing the scenes that I have seen in several cantonment areas like Ambala, Allahabad, Dehradun, Kurseong, Tura, Colaba etc

“Yeh rastaa Ammunition factory ho ke sidhe Khadki station tak jata hai. aur daaiyen taraf hai Bhaiyawadi aur thoda agey ek church hai, uske baad military officers ka residential.”

He took a sharp turn towards left after a hundred metres or so I saw a board:

CENTRAL QUALITY ASSURANCE (MILLITARY)
KIRKEE AMMUNITIONS FACTORY
KIRKEE CANTONMENT AREA,PUNE

The car entered a well maintained compound and stopped. As we were entering through the gate a Sikh army man who was sitting at the gate in his duty stood up and saluted. I felt a bit embarrassed.

This is why sometimes I feel why not the common citizen should salute a man in uniform instead of the vice versa.

Coming back, it was quiet a big compound. There were two houses one seemed to have been built in the pre-independence era and another was a new one. In the compound there was tennis court, a flag-hoisting corner and even a small stage. The old house was a bungalow type. It has a thatched roof covered with what in Bengali is called taali and had a big courtyard. There were two rooms “Raigarh” and “Torna”. The new one had the dining hall, bar, reception, kitchen in the ground floor and two rooms “Lohagarh and “Singharh”.

The Torna was allocated to me. It was a luxurious one. As one enters he step into a modern drawing-cum-dining hall. The hall had a huge sofa, a circular dining table with four chair , a refrigerator and a cupboard full of cutlery set. A skin of dead tiger, heads of musk deer and a bull were hung in the wall. There was two bedded bedroom across the hall. The bed room had an adjacent dressing room, a huge window and adjacent to the window was the bathroom. As per my habit I went straight to the bathroom. I was so delighted to see the geyser that I switched it on immediately. I removed the curtains of the window. The curtains were light ones, they allows light to pass though I cannot see what is there on the opposite side. I found the window opens in the back of the compound. A big tree and behind was a small wall and it shares the boundary with the cemetery. Yes, the Kirkee War Cemetery.

11 AM, 3^rd Feb

“When you go home tell them

Of us and say for your tomorrow

We gave our today”

As I was stepping down into the cemetery these words were flashing in my mind. Many years ago I visited Kohima where I saw the most famous war cemetery of The World War II, there I saw these lines written on the War Memorial. Even I saw another cemetery in Imphal also. Well, stepping down means stepping down, the cemetery is few metres below the level of the main road.

Walking on the Wimbledon grass I moved towards a huge it is the memorial that commemorates more than 1800 soldiers who died in the First World War (1914-1918) who are buried in civil and cantonment cemeteries in India and Pakistan where their graves can no longer be properly maintained. It stood at the centre of the graveyard and was surrounded by twelve concrete structures in arranged in circle. On the same memorial are commemorated almost 200 East and West African servicemen who died in non-operational zones in India in the Second World War, and whose graves either cannot be located or are so situated that maintenance is not possible. In front of it there were lines of graves stones about twenty in each row. With beautiful flowers and plants the place looked more like a garden of peace than a graveyard. This pattern of lines and rows were also followed in different sides of the cemetery. The Stone of Remembrance is a brightly polished limestone. The cemetery gate opens in the Mula Road, it is written on the wall KIRKEE WAR CEMETRY 1939-1945.These words speaks a lot. Soldiers fighting for the Commonwealth Forces serving Her Majesties were buried here. I did not go on to count but it seemed there were nearly 1500 hundred graves.

I don’t know what happened to me. I had planned to stay at the cemetery for just ten minutes, but something attracted me to stay there longer which was nearly an hour. I lingered around the whole place. In spite of the fact that it was a grave, the arrangement of the stones, the huge cross at the centre, the mast trees (Debdaru in Bengal), the Wimbledon grass, arches of bougainvillea together gave an awesome look. The gravestone carries the name, number, rank of person lying at the grave. They also had the name of the regiment the soldier belonged to, the date of there. Some of their ages were also mentioned. I noticed most of them were in their twenties. The huge cross in the centre is the symbol of sacrifice. The plaque behind the cross has names of soldered who sacrificed their lives.

The last line from Kohima cemetery “we gave our today” seems to hold true for all war cemeteries throughout. Thousand brave soldiers who left their home to fight for their nation died in foreign soil. This happen still today, Indian soldiers dies in Afghanistan, Sierra Leone.US Marines and other NATO forces dies in Iraq, Afghanistan, and Gaza Strip. Today the bodies of dead soldiers are carried to their home. But whenever anyone stands in front of a war memorial or a war cemetery a mixed feeling feels their mind. It is not the feeling of standing among the dead but being surrounded by brave soldiers who are sleeping peacefully forever.

I returned back to my room. After having my bath I lied on the bed as I was to switch to switch the TV on I turned my eyes towards the window only to discover that I can see the cemetery even when I am lying on my bed. The geometric array of white granite grave stones all neatly paced out in neat rows and columns, all facing towards the central stone of remembrance. It appeared that the men in uniform standing there on the richly manicured lawn shouting out their name, number and rank.

I don’t know how every alternate second my eyes were turning towards the grave even though there was something very interesting was being shown in Star Movies-Juno.

I walked up to the window and pulled the curtains on.

Staring at a grave 24X7 is not a good thing to do, my mind suggested. I came back to the bed.

Not even five minutes had passed I started thinking that I am depriving myself from a wonderful view.

So, I went back again and pulled the curtains off. I started watching the cemetery with its sun bathed grass from my bed. How teenage girl Juno was spending her gestation period took the backseat of my mind. Thousands of thoughts started pouring in.

How they died? Just a one-liner in a sealed envelope used to reach their home carrying the news of their death. Today people forget the heroes after initials hues and cries for few days. Then it would have been much worse sixty years earlier. At times not even any letter carrying the news of death would have reached the family.

.. to be continued

Archiving my first ever Blog

2010-02-25T15:50:00.001+05:30

http://bloggarts.wordpress.com/about/home-secretary/

Bloggarts's Blog

Home Secretary

with 5 comments

yesterday evening I was at Netaji Indoor Stadium where Sonu Nigam was to perform at Mackintosh Burns 175th year celebration.I managed I VIP pass which allowed me to sit in the very second row.
Well can anyone tell me what’s his surname Niigaam or NIGAM?
The once son-in-law of Bengal 100 minute performance was successful in getting the fifty-sixty plus babus of West Bengal Government off their feet.Some baldy WBCS officers in formal were seen jostling in front of the stage to be within 10 feet radius of the stage.
Well when it was nearly most of the program was over I went forward to take some snaps when Sonu was singing Chiggy Wiggy.
Yes he sang the chiggy wiggy female voice!!
Few weeks back Bapi Lahiri in an interview to anandabazar said:

” Jodi Sonu Nigam r Sunidhi Chauhan ek sathe gaan gay bojha jabena konta male voice konta female!”
This words proved true when he sang the numbers like:Mere Haath Main and Jeene Ke Hain Char Din .
Well, coming back I took steps towards the open space in front of the front row.There were few Calcutta Police men in their typical high-school PT uniform.
I went and took a place on my knees.I was shaking my body a bit.Of course Sonu sang both the Kylie Minogue’s and his own part.
There was a tap from on my shoulder. Turning back I found a man of 60s wearing blue specs like that Bangubandhu Shiekh Mujibar Rahman used to wear.O yes,this man also fancied a mustache but it was more like that of our daily municipal garbage collector Shambhu than that of Bangabandhu.
” Aye ki korcho?ki.Dekhcho na cigarette-ory saheb achhen?” Hey watch out,can’t you see the cigarette-ory sahib here?
“ke?” who?
“home cigarette saheb.”
Believe it or not it took nearly two lines of chiggy wiggy to decode that cigarette-ory is the Home Secretory.
” which home secretory?”
“Pashim Banglar Home cigarette-ory.”
“Ami ki korbo?bosey achhen toh.Sobbai Nachhe dekhchi” What can I do,if he is sitting everyone is dancing down here.
This time the Mr.Banga-shombhu took a pause and said ” ami tomay ta bolini,tumi aste chobbi tolo.”
I didn’t tell you that,take snaps silently.
Nobody, in this world can say what does he meant by taking snaps silently.I have never heard any big sound created while taking snaps.Leave alone zooming of aeroplane,the cameras doesnt whisper infrasound!!
“please be sabdhan,he furious,if uni rege jaan,angry furified,then amader ekhane we is law and shinghala problem of the order”

I can’t believe still now, what I heard!!
This is the effect of banning English education for a decade.
I felt a bit confused about what to say.And yes I can’t speak such a sexy Beng-lish.
I said.” na na ok ok. no problem.let him seat.”
I turned to my left and saw Ardhendu Sen, the Home cigarette-ory. Big fat mushy with specs.Its seemed that a jersey cow was sitting on a chair waiting for the foto to be taken.
“dekhecho kemon mon diye shunchen.” Mr.Banga-shambhu was back at his Bengali. See how is listening.
“haan.”
By that time chiggy-wiggy was followed by AAL IZZ WELL.

Written by bloggarts Edit

February 11, 2010 at 7:33 am

2010-02-23T13:41:00.003+05:30

Yesterday morning when I woke up a feeling came that today I should go for a trip. But where?
My driver arrived sharp at 8AM and by nine we were speeding down the Rajarhat bypass.
Destination? It was yet to be decided, but towards NH2.
I generally love to travel alone because it not only allows freedom but also the madness in my methods gets more priority. But this time I had my driver Ananta Babu with me because I am not that expert to drive along the national highways.

While having tea at the disputed site of Singur we decided our first stop will be at my ancestral village in Bankura which we reached by 12 noon.
Oh! Yes, there were two more unplanned halts.
One was at Palsit. It is a place where the roadway and railway travels side by side. It is right here in the fields of Palsit Satyajit Ray took the shots of Pather Panchali where Apu-Durga runs through the kashbon (common reeds) to see the train. Why we stopped? It was just to watch a goods train passing along the Bardhamman Main Line.

Next was the Kaushik Ghosh’s Langcha shop at Shaktigarh.
Well, for all lover’s of Bengali sweet 'Kaushik Ghosh’s' is one the very few langcha sellers who never put flour packing in his sweets.
There are hundreds of langcha shops along the highway with names like Langcha House, Langcha Mahal , Langcha Palace ,Langcha Sadan ,Langcha Hall, and even Langcha Emporium !!

But notable absenties included: Langcha Hospital, Langcha Disco and of course Langcha Bathroom.

After having a short nap we left for Bishnupur.
Now here is a big problem the road to Bishnupur from my village is through the deep forest of Jaipur which of course falls in the Maoist belt.
Bishnupur the ancient capital of Malla kings of Bengal, is a nice place. Its terracotta temple that includes the Jor-Bangla, the pyramidal Rashmancha, and the cluster of of temples stand as testimony to the exquite craftsmanship of the artisans of the region.
And yes who can forget the majestic Dol Madol cannon, constructed in 1742 by Raja Gopal Singh to keep the Maratha troops at bay.

Now when we were on the way I called up an old friend of mine who is currently teaching in an institute near Bishnupur.

“ Tui ektu bikel 4te nagad amar jonno bus stand e dnarabi”, he said. Please wait for me at the Bishnupur bus stand at 4pm.

So as planned, I was sitting on a bench at the bus stop.
This part of the country is barren; there is seldom any proper cultivation. The red soil is not as fertile as the alluvials found in other parts of Gangetic Bengal.
As the big fully loaded buses were passing one after another, they were leaving a cloud a red dust behind.
After one of the buses passed as I looked up when the dusts were getting cleared I saw something on the opposite side of the road.

These days, there are lot of bomb scares. Moreover in this place people do live in fear as Bishnupur is very near to rebel areas. The administration, the police take initiatives to be more vigilant, and also to make the public more conscious.
They use several methods to do so. They do routine flag march, they set up camps, they distribute leaflets explaining the dos donts etc etc

One such method is posters. The administration put up posters in public places carrying images and writing , explaining their purpose.

So, here are some posters. It is in Bengali. There are pictures of soft-toys, suitcase, and bags. I can’t read as it was quite far away. But it seems it’s about creating awareness about bombs.

I moved up and crossed the road.
Aha here is one in English too.

But what is this?
The heading says: “BO*BS COME IN DIFFERENT SHAPES AND SIZES”

Some mischief has scratched the M off from its place and has written a big O there.

10PM Wipro Signal

2010-02-15T12:15:00.000+05:30

10 PM 14^th Feb 2010

“Pehli pehli baar mohabbat ki hai

Kuch na samajh main aaye main kya karoon”

The number from the movie Sirf Tum goes somewhat like this. The bus is moving smoothly by the Eastern Bypass. These days bus journey in Calcutta has become very comfortable, thanks to JNNURM, Green Activitist Subhas Datta, and the Calcutta High Court. These buses are more comfortable than BEST or KSTC buses that run in Mumbai and Bangalore. These newly introduced fleets are low floored, 50 seaters with larger windows, more leg space and wider corridors. O yes Mumbai will defeat Calcutta in only one category: BEST buses have two LCD TVs in them which we don’t see in Calcutta.

Well, Sirf Tum was made in 1999 when internet was just becoming popular and STD rates were quiet high. BSNL Raj was on as only landlines were main mode of communication. STD calls were very costly though there was some relaxation in STD rates after 10PM.O yes, mobiles were there but very few people could afford. Also, incoming calls were chargeable. There was a time when making a STD was a nightmare when we need to call up the telephone office and book a trunk call. Later things were much easier when Sam Pitroda brought in a revolution in communication industry in India. On his advice in 1980s Rajiv Gandhi government introduced PCOs.

Well Sirf Tum storyline is more or less Meg Ryan’s ‘You Have Got The Mail’ type. Sanjay Kapoor finds a bag belonging to a lady. Being a do-gooder he mails the bag and the contents to that lady and they start to correspond with each other. Ultimately they fall for each other even before seeing them. There is a lot of khichdi in the movie but this is the main line.

Those who are aware of the word pen-friend they will get along with the movie, the liking and disliking comes later.

But take the story to a college goer of 2010 AD, they will say, “What love by correspondence? What an idea? That too by ordinary post? And then I need to scribble all those words in a paper. SMS, Skype, Gtalk, Facebook saare maar gya kya??”

This is the problem. People are ready to do MBA by correspondence then why not love?

Maybe life has become very fast. By the time the guy’s love letter reaches the girl, she has decided that “he does not love me anymore” hence she has started looking another guy as substitute.

Actually change of partner is more frequent than change of undergarments.

Now, about writing. Today we all can type; the problem arises when we need to write something. If asked to write a full page on a piece of paper is like asking for a kidney!! If it is a dictation then it seems like a death sentence. Short hand writing has already joined the dinosaurs so does stenographers. In a museum the type-writers now can be classified in the same category which includes the steam engine.

But still today we need to sign. There the usage of pen-pencil comes into play. God knows signing may becoming extinct one day. We have already seen the Idea ad “save paper save trees. What an Idea Sirjii”

I fear that a day will come when we will teach our children “Q-W-E-R-T-Y-U-I-P-A-S.....” instead of typical “A-B-C-D-E-F-G-H....”

Come on I am speaking of the computer keyboard. Obviously to increase our writing speed we need to remember them. If things go by this line then one day in Universities people studying History will have a new chapter added called “Handwriting” like today we study hieroglyphics which were used by ancient Egyptians in their pyramids. The Government Art College will also organize Handwriting Exhibitions just as we have painting exhibitions.

Then is the issue of ordinary post. In our days we had post cards, inland letters. Post cards are rarely seen these days so are the purple coloured inland letters. These inland letters were designed in such a way that after folding and sealing, the contents of the letter can’t be read from outside. The post cards and inland letters used to take at least a week to reach their destination. For few centuries they formed the integral part of India’s communication system. “Department of Post and Telegraph” was the most revered department of the central government after the railways. Telegram or telegram may be considered to be the predecessor of SMS. Sending them was also a tedious process. They used to travel faster as they were wire dedicated.

Postmans are still around. But their khaki uniforms are gone. There was a time these people were needed to read the letters for the recipients.

Suppose in todays time, I receive a SMS and I needed someone to receive it for me!!

Ok ok SMS may be too much what about a reader for an email?

The scenes from “Sandese aati hain” from the movie Border has become something which can be termed “gone are those days.”

When asked about these a Major who spent most of on field postings in Kashmir valley said,”Such things were seen mid 90s. After that they were there but telecom made a lot of progress. Even in Kargil war we had Iridium. After 2003 everything was gone. These days we have BSNL towers in Srinagar-Leh highway.”

Philatelists, refers to someone who collects postage stamps. Some people took it as a profession also. These days such people are never heard of. How many letters do we receive that are stamped? The courier companies never do so. Even Speed Post items seldom have them. All we have are generated Track IDs and a invoices.

Once, somebody said maintaining long distant relationship is becoming tougher these days.

But how? The reason I got was life is becoming fast!!

My God! So what, the world has become smaller. You have mobiles, chat engines. You can do everything possible on earth, but virtually. To do that you just need to switch on to video chat.

Just think of Kalidasa he had no mobiles, no internet access leave alone inland letters or telegrams, yet managed to keep his love for his lady alive. The result was reflected beautifully in his Meghdootam.

Those who have read it, knows what a masterpiece it is. I am a part of that group and I know today’s Valentine’s Day one-liners are no match to it.

Has anyone have heard about picture postcards?

No? Well that is not a crime. Today we all forward MMSs. Picture postcards were postcards with pictures on the side where we generally write the text. They may be of any occasion specific or location specific. I still remember to have received one from my aunt when she moved to Europe after her marriage in 1987. It had a nice picture of the snow-covered Alps.

One thing must be noted here unlike MMS picture postcards never had explicit pictures or nude images. I don’t know the reason but it may be because before reaching the recipient the card will fall into several hands. Just imagine a still from the raunchy MMS on a picture postcard and a postman arrives at your doorstep to deliver it.

Sending a picture is no tough job today. Maybe in the movie Dev D, Mahie Gill made it too complicated while sending her ‘bina kapdoon wali “image to Abhay Deol.

These days’ images are more processed than they taken. People think to be a good photographer a high definition camera is a must. O yes, Adobe Photoshop is also a must. If anyone adds a nice picture in his or her album in orkut instead praising the person there are people who asks “is it a SLR?” or “what is the EXIF info?” They think that they are expert in photography and so such photos cannot be taken without SLR or won’t be so beautiful without post processing. And then we have the EXIF info.

Problem with such people is that” yeh log sab kuchh jan janke janwar ban chukka hai.”

“EXIF info”, it seems just as a PC, a laptop or any damn electronics goods comes with a specification a photo should also come with that specification called EXIF info.

There are too many idiots (real idiots not from Aamir Khan’s 3 Idiots) who instead of looking at the subject or matter of the picture raises their voice “what is the Ev?”” it would have been better if you had decreased the ISO.”

Just imagine, today’s “Times Of India” comes with a picture of a person, below which it is written:

“Manmohan Singh in the Parliament f-stop f/28, ISO Speed ISO-80, model Nikon:XXX"

How will you feel?

I happen to know a Reuters photographer who still uses Fuji Film reels at occasions just for practice. Now if we ask these janwars to do so we will get an answer:

“yeh sab cheez Lord Curzon ke pardada use karte the, I am in the twenty-first century”

The person from Reuters said “How a photo is taken does not make a photographer but rather you should try making your picture speak, the photo will make you a photographer. Today anyone takes a rough snap goes home to process it. Nobody has the courage to put up the actual thing they have taken. That is why we seldom have any Kevin Carters these days.”

It’s like buying a scalpel from the stationary and going into a OT to perform surgery, degree does not matter. I have a scalpel hence I am a surgeon therefore I am the Devata to Devi Shetty because Devi Shetty took more than a decade to be what he is and I just bought a scalpel became a surgeon..

Actually the problem is not with the progress of technology, it is with us rather how we accept the change. It’s nice to “Ring out the old” and “bring in the new” but we should be careful.

There are occasions when toddler studying in class VIII (I am using the term toddler intentionally) proudly says “I can’t read or write Bengali.” or any of the languages spoken as mother tongue.

Their parents will shyly come with an explanation, “Studying Marathi is not compulsory in school.”

Agreed.

But in Class VIII your kid has already picked up all available Bengali abusive adjectives from all available resources along with their meanings and applications. Does any parent have any explanation for this? Learning abuse is not compulsory in school; it does form a part of the curriculum even. Are you sending him to special “Bengali Abuse Coaching Class” just as you send him to “Cricket Coaching “or “Drawing Class”?

We are picking up everything new and we should. But we should be careful in not picking up the inferior Chinese merchandise that are easily available everywhere.

Taking the newly built flyover to avoid a congested crossing every time is always welcome but we should know flyovers never have signals, which does not mean that one should be ignorant about how a traffic signal functions.

The bus has taken the usual U-turn; the next stoppage is Wipro Flyover. I need to get down at the signal.