Friday, August 28, 2009

Ek Alasher Alshemi!


Aamar dyara sotti i kichu hobena!

Katha chhilo kal bikel theke niyomito lekha shuru korbo. Aar prothom dinei jatharithi byartho. Emon kaajey atke gelam je aar lekhai holona. Jokhon bari phirey aamar study te boshar sujog pelam totokhhoney bhalo lekhar mejaj tai gayeb.

Tarupor sandhyebelar Mamar Dokaner breast cutlet er moutatey je bhabe abodhho hoyechilo shorir mon, tatey aar lekhar ichhe chhilo na.

Aami chirokaler late latif. Aami jani aamar moto alashata, aamar kuremi aamakey chirodin kurey kurey khaye, aar sei kurkure bhab ta aami besh ayesh korei upabhog kori.

Maa to bolei dieche, "Tor dara kichui hobena"

Thanks Maa, for knowing me so well.

Arekjon aamar kuremi sambandhye wakibahal. Ekjon joto ta sambhav chesta kore jachhen ei kuremi chharanor. Anyajon, boley boley ekhon haal chhere dieche. Bodhoy, bujhe geche 'bhobi bholbar noy' kingba 'aranye rodan!

Tateo bodlano jayni. Chaturdikey ei paribartaner hawa, cholo bodlai er aboheo aami sei timirei theke gechi. Attay ghum bhanga kali kaler bhanga bangiya bir pungab!

Emoni i bir je pash diye kono sarmeyo gele se bhoye more, bhison daray kono jhut jhamela ke, aparey maramari korle bhoye him hoe jae tar shorir. Tobu, birpungab!

Bodhyoy aamar moto birpurush der katha mathay rekhei kabiguru likhechhilen-- "Saat koti santaner he mughdha janani, rekhecho bangali kore, manush koroni"

Jakge, truti shikar kore nilam ei subadey. Katha roilo aaj bikel theke niyamito lekha hobei.

Katha roilo.

Apatoto karma khetre jawar prostuti nii. Anek getomi holo, tao mone hoche arektu alash hoye jai. E chhara aar ki i ba kora jay!

Ei to jiban kali'da!

Thursday, August 27, 2009

Hath Baralei...

Janina tomader kemon legeche kalker lekhata.
Bhalo lagteo parey, mondyo o. Tobe sotti bolchhi, kaal lekhata kore aamar nijer besh bhalo legeche. Koto chepe rakha maan abhiman dukhhera je kal bandhyo khacha theke beriye porlo, tar hisebi chhilona.
Mon ta o aaj ektu bhalo.
Jara porecho, kemon laglo janio. Jara poroni, tara pore dekhte paro. Bodhoy khub kharap lagbena.
Tobe, ekta khobor achhe, aaj theke aami niyomito likhbo. Bibhinno bishoy uthe ashbe ei virtual space e. Lakhsya rekho.
Aaj raat thekei shuru hobe niyomito kathabala.
Darkarey, adarkarey likhbo, porbe, janabe. Eksathey path chala shuru hobe.
Hath ta bariye dekho, Hath baralei khuje pabe aamakey!!!
Bhalo Theko sobbai...!

Ekta 'sotti kathar' galpo...



Aaj ektu Banglay likhi?


Asholey hoeche ki, ei koekdin ghatanar ghanaghata aar kaajer jatakaley emon atke giechi, je bhalo kore lekhai hoyni. Jemon ghotona ghotche temni palla diye barche mon kharap. Koto katha, kathokata r daripallay nijeke boddo baddhyo lagche. Tai aajker ei Blog Banglay!


Aami Banglar chhele, ami banglay katha boli, Baglay lekha lekha kori. Tai Blog tao banglatei likhlam aaj.


Ei kodin monta ekdom bhalo nei. Kichu karone bhison bishonno e mon. Karon ta abashyai aamar karma sankranta. Byaktigoto noy.


Kaajer subadey bohu ghotona, durghotona, durlabh muhurter sakhhi hoi aamra. Jara sangbadikatar pesha o neshay jukto tader kache biswas jogwota ekta boro bharsar jayga. But, ekhane kaj korte gie dekhchi ekhane sotti ke sotti bola jayna. Here, you can't call a spade a spade!


Pochhondo na holeo bolte hoy, Ki bhalo hoyeche! kingba, Ki Kharap hoeche!


Aabar sobshomy sotti na bolleo samasya. E jeno puro golok dhanda.Koto rangai na dekhchi ei duniyay tao mukh kholar jo nei.


Majhe majhe ghum na ele jokhon raat jege janlar pashey boshe thaki, tokhon mone hoy asholey aamra ki korchhi? Nijeder nirapekhhota promaner janyo mukh bujey, jene shuney jal uchu nichu bolchhi. Kintu keno? Kono uttor nei...


Aamader byojestho ra ajibon bole esechhen, "Sat pathey chalo. Sada ke sada aar kalo ke kalo bolo. Etai niyam". Tobe, aaj keno ei paribartan?


Asholey, Ekhon dey dhawa juger hawa, aar tatei ek futkarey jachhi urey....


Sotti bole ekhon se agya, aar mithye bolle se asath. Tahole se ki bolbe? Binarity te na hoy gelam na, tahole ki bolbo? Janina gochher kichu ekta?


Tahole je byojesthoder eto diner katha gulo mithye hoe jabe???


E jug bolbe, "Mitthye hok"! Aacha, khub jante iche korey, tahole aagami jug ki bolbe?


Tara to uttor i khuje pabena. Prashnogulo hoyto tokhon o sahaji thakbe kintu uttor gulo hoye jabe ajana. Tokhon, ki upay?


Asholey aamader samasyar bijta gobhirey. Aamra nijeder samalochona sajhya korte akhyam. Aamader asha lokey sudhui gaal bhore prosongsha korbe. Kono ekdin ghee khele, aagami koek dashak lokey sei ghee er gandhoi mone rakhbe. Keno baba, ke ei mathar dibbi dieche?


Aami jokhon kaaj korte namchi tokhon somalochona sajhya korar khamata thakbena keno aamar? Jibon ta sudhu golap chhorano noy, golap er gandher majhe kantao thake. Keno aamar paye phhutbena sei kanta?


Ami ki emon bigyo? Ki emon mohan khamata aamar?


Ashol samasya etai. Aamra prosongshar kangal. Samalochana aamader aruchir upadan. Keno?


Jotodin na nijeder bodlate parbo aamra, totodin ei samasya chholche, cholbe!!!


Aamra na chaileo...




Sunday, August 23, 2009

A Date with Dada!



(Statutory warning: Eta Kolkata, tai Banglay lekhatai banchhoniyo.)

We live in Kolkata, the land of Rosogollas, the land of Victoria Memorial, and also its the land of our very own Dadas. No, we aren't really referring them as brothers. They are just our Dada.

(Ekhane, Dadur boyoshi lok o apnar Dada!) Be it an old man just crossing the barrier of 90, or just a kid crossing his teenage days; they all are our Dada.

Here, the political leaders are Dada, the cricket captain is Dada, the phuchkawallah is Dada; or even the rickshaw puller is a Dada. (Rastar more dariye jokhon aamra chechai, "O dada sunchen!; tokhon ke je shone seta bola mushkil!)

That day while travelling in Metro, this journo came across an unique character. The man dressed in white kurta, and white payjama, introduced himself as ..... (naam ta dichhina, Dada khepe jete pare. The first thing he said was "Aami ekjon Dada. Shobar Dada"

Well, all this while we've seen Dadagiri of many people, but ini toh nijei nijeke Dada bolchen.


Journo: Who the hell are you?

Dada: Aarey, amaar naam....., duniyar Dada.

Journo: are you mad? You want to be the " duniyar dadaa?"

Dada: Arey Shala marbo ekhane lash porbe baganey. Aami holam Dada, aat theke ashi shobar Dada. Bujhle?

Journo: ( being a little polite) yup, bujhlam!

Dada: Shono bhaya, ami shokale dudhwalah der secretary, dash ta theke Auto bachao committeer sampadak, barotar por Bus tola jabena samity r pradhan, duto theke Footpath bachao committeer neta, tin ter por theke 'Hawker bachao committeer' sampdak. Charter por theke soja Maidan e Khela Bachao committee r karta, tarpor CAB r mali der sangram committeer pradhan. Chhota theke Taxi Andoloner kormi, sare sat tay Dhalao Mod license na dewa commiiteer hota, atta y Mod khan pran bachan commiiteer poresident. Natay Pratibad commiitee sere dashtay bari phiri. Aami Dada. Bojha gelo he sangabdik?

Journo: So, what do you do in late hours?

Dada: Oh, tokhon ami Ghumer bori khao committeer sampadak. Tokhon aami ghumiye ghumiye andolan kori. Koto struggle bujhcho bhai!

Journo: Well, have these protests of any use?

Dada: (With a soft smile) He He, ta ektu flop koreche boiki. Emon andolan korechi je loke ar ashol dudh kene na. Autoy chapena. Shob purono bus uthe geche. Footpath shob hawker ra nie nieche. Maidaner ardhek mathey khela hoyna. Andoloner jyalamoyi teje shob malider tariye dieche. Taxi ardhek uthe geche. Dhalao license dewa hoeche mod er dokaney. Dekhecho, koto kaaj hoeche.

Journo: How do you motivate people?

Dada: simple. Jekhane jai sekhanei chechai. Tarpor jhagra kori, loke bhabe circus hoche. Lok jute jay, tarpor tader matha chete ami andolan kori.

(Dada was in a hurry. He got down at Chandni Chowk), saying, "Choli bhai, ebar Metro bachao committee r sabhaya jabo"

For a second, this journo was speechless. If these are the Dadas, then can results be any better?

Jai hok, ei holo amader Kolkata, Ar ei holo amader DADA'R DADAGIRI!
(Next episode: Journo faces the agony aunt)

Thursday, August 20, 2009

The Princess and the Journo!


Kolkata; August 20, 2009: The day started off with a 'bang' (no, it wasnt good... my head was banging, thanks to the bad old headache problem!) There were loads of assignments to be completed, and I was not feeling well. The body parts seemed to have given up, I was feeling drowsy, coughing out loud...

Maa was quite scared, "Swine Flu holo naki re???", she went on with her curiosity, thanks to the great Indian curiosity...

However, It went on well... A hot cup of coffee was enough to bring me back to life.

I started penning down some reportorial assignments, then tried calling up my princess charming, but as usual princess had decided to shut down her cell phone. So, texting was the only option to fall back on.

Anyways, amidst coughing and sneezing, and the suspicion of being affected by the 'swine' flu, day went ahead...

Cut to 14:00Hrs (IST)

Venue: Rabindra Sadan Metro Station

Her phone was ringing. It was the third time I tried calling her, but all efforts went in vein... Every time the call would end with a lady voice saying, "subscriber cant be contacted"

Bloody Hell!!! Why wasn't she taking my call??

Suddenly someone called me from the back. I looked back, saw the three musketiers standing in a row, with a smile. As if they had done a great job by not taking my call.

Well, after chatting for some time the two ''laugh birds" disappeared, and I was now joined by the princess.

My sixth sense sparked me off. I was finally able to get hold of the Princess, how can I let this opportunity go?

The diary came out from my bag, the dictaphone went in to work. Now, I was ready to face the Princess.


Journo: So, finally you have finally appeared in Rabindra Sadan. Why did it take so long?


Princess: (In straight cut Bengali) Ha go, cholei elam... Ganga pare ja jam na go... Aamader rajyer gari gulo shob two stroke, tai cholche na, tai hete elam ... Tai deri holo. Jakge, Rabi da (read, Tagore) r namey station e eshe boddo bhalo lagche!!!


Journo : (wondering what did that mean?) Dont you stay in the palace? Then why do you need a public transport? Hell with Two stroke...


Princess: Arey dhur, public transport e asbo keno? Aamader gari gulo to shob auto, shob i dhowa chhara two stroke marka. Ki aar kora jabe!


Journo: Cant you even afford a car ?


Princess: Na go, ei maa mati manusher jugey shob hobe saman. Aamra ekhon khete khawa public. Maa mati manush, aamra aar gaari tey chhorbona, ekhon aamra sudhu train e chapbo. Aaj Duranto, kal Uranto, porshu Ghumonto... Koto train!


Journo:Et tu princess?

Princess: Na go mairi bolchi, concept ta total fultu... Train er koto subidha, Howrah theke chepe bosbo Dighay giye namte hobena. Tamraliptay jabo, Kandari hoye asbo...

Journo: Good, got you. So, where are you heading next?

Princess: Ei ebar Metroy uthbo, soja Garia... Abara phirti train e Esplanade, sekhan theke chakra rail e, tarpor bari phirbo two strokey. Etuku two stroke chaptei hobe, noile Dada ra aamari stroke kore debe. Jakge, ekhon kati, tata!!!



What was it? An interview? An hallucination or the real reflection of a common man's life? The Princess made me go back to a decade earlier. The catch line of a te;lecom company said, "Its for everyone, maharaja or praja"... Now, after a decade, its so true...


(Next episode: The Dada and the Journo)


Sunday, January 11, 2009

Kolkata in Auto mode...!


During my last visit to Varanasi, I traveled all around the city in a horse carriage, (Better known as Tanga in Uttar Pradesh), and surprisingly discovered that the ancient city prefers Tanga over Autos and cabs. On asking a local resident regarding the relevance of this policy, he smartly replied, “We don’t want pollution, so we prefer Tanga”.
But, back here in Kolkata, it’s just the other way round. It’s a world of Auto, Auto, and Auto. It seems that we simply are obsessed with this mini transport!
We seem to love the pungent smell of the kaata tel despite knowing the fact that it’s harmful. We seem to love everything about the transport. Be it the foul smell, the flames, or the slang’s by the auto drivers. Every thing!
Actually, the Kolkatans have become habituated to this Auto culture. We know that Naktala is a five minutes distance from Garia, yet we love to travel in Auto. We know that we’ll have to wait for hours to get an auto, yet we love to stand in the long queues at Tollygunje, or Gariahat. Obsession indeed!
Now, the ban on Two-Stroke autos comes as a shock for the Kolkatans. We don’t bother in taking the foul smell of Kaata Tel, we don’t mind in quarrelling with the Auto drivers, we know it’s injurious to health, yet we love to take an auto ride.
I remember a famous Bengali writer had once said, “Bengalis are now in an Auto mode, because of this domination by the Autos”
Reality bites…!
As a result, we hear Mr. Bose telling Mr. Ghose, “What will happen now? If Autos get banned, how will I reach office?” But, one wonders the reason behind this Auto fixation? We know it’s cheap, we are aware of the fact that it’s convenient as well, but are we least bothered about our health?
In spite of knowing the fact that the pungent smell produced by the Kaata Tel can cause Cancer, or cardiac arrest, we love to travel in Autos. Who cares about health? seems to be the common attitude…
If a dusty city like Varanasi or Kanpur can zero in on other modes of transport, in order to reduce the rate of pollution, then why can’t we prefer to travel in Eco-Friendly transport?
We study Environmental Education in schools, and colleges, we debate over the Pollution control, yet we travel by most polluted transport, i.e. Auto.
What a combination!!!
Despite knowing the consequences we bat for autos, we love to depend on the polluted transport, to reach our destination…
This clearly portrays a fact—“Reality is real, much real than the reality!”
So, in spite of knowing the consequences of Auto, we bank in on them as our friendly transport, effacing out all the issues of Pollution and problem.
So, the statement of a renowned writer says it all, “Bengalis are now in an Auto mode, because of this domination by the Autos”
How true…!

Tuesday, December 2, 2008

Once upon a time in Park Street!

Storyline of my First Fictional Film:A First look!
Once upon a time in Park Street— “A Tribute”
Story: In the first scene, it shows that Anuran Basu, an NRI writer comes to Kolkata,
Fifteen years later, in order to launch his new novel, “Once upon a time in Park Street”, where he writes about his memories on Park Street. Christina, a reporter & a resident of Park Street, visits Basu for an interview. Christina an Anglo Indian, hates Park Street from the core of her heart, calling it a “Devil’s Den”. While interviewing him, Christina asks him, “Why did you plan to pay tribute to Park Street, all of a sudden?”
At this, Basu tells her the following story.
“Arundhuti & Vanessa stays in Park Lane. Vanessa is a final year student of English at St. Xavier’s College, while, Arundhuti has just joined Forum, as a floor manager. They have an age-gap, yet, they are pol pals.
Vanessa comes from an orthodox Christian upbringing, but, due to this huge orthodox pressure from family, she starts living a bohemian life. She simply pays no heed to this orthodoxy. She stays in her own bohemian world, surrounded by music & nightlife at Someplace Else. She wants to break free.
On the other hand, Arundhuti belongs to a liberal family of Menon’s, where she has the liberty to do what ever she thinks well. Yet, she strictly follows the orthodoxy, fears to express her feelings, even to Nirvick, who has a soft corner for her.
Nirvick, an ex- Presidencian too works at Forum as chief stylist. Nirvick has a happy-go-lucky attitude, very friendly guy, who despite being a hard core Bengali loves to attend regular chapel services at Assembly of God Church, in Park Street. Nirvick has already popped up the question to Arundhuti, but, his parent’s are not ready to accept their relationship, because Arundhuti stays in the firangi area of Park street.
They feel that a Park Street tansh can never be their daughter-in-law. Park Street, to them, is an area of Flury’s, nightlife, wine stores, hooligans, & the loitering place for some illiterate Christian brats. How can their bouma be from such a “filthy” place?
Mean while, we discover two old men, visiting The Trinca’s & The Flury’s everyday. Both of them visits the area around evening & keeps on drinking, till wee hours. They hum Bob Dylan numbers, often falls in jhamela with the policemen. They wear torn faded jeans, T-Shirt & one of them carries a guitar along. They are Mike & Kabir. Mike is a Christian & Kabir, a Muslim, yet they became friends some two decades ago, in a wine shop at Park Street. Mike lives in Ripon Street, while Kabir is a vagabond. They have no source of income. Mike’s spouse Nelly teaches at Don Bosco School and, what she earns go into Mike’s wining expenses. Nelly, an extremely good looking lady, can’t understand her hubby. She tries hard to win over Mike, but, Mike hardly listens to her. He’s just crazy about Park Street.
In the posh locality of Salt Lake, there lives Shaman, a college student, who too visits Park Street, everyday for college. But, feels that Park Street is the den of poor Christians. He has a group of friends namely Patrick, Rudi, Natasha, Aniket, who are his college cronies. Everyday, while coming back from college, they chat outside the Park Street metro station, regularly. From Politics, to, Sports they chat over every issue. They roam around Park Street, freely. Yet, Shaman can’t really trust their friends, as they are Park Street Christians. “Bastards, Saala!”
Suddenly, there happens a riot, over the banishment of a Muslim author. The whole Calcutta gets a horrific look. While returning back to his home in Salt Lake, Shaman, a hard core orthodox Muslim boy, saves himself from falling into preys of Muslim rioters, with the help of Aunty Nelly. Who, saves him from the hooligan attacks & gives him shelter at her residence, by effacing out her hubby (Mike)’s insult.
Park Street, saves life of Shaman as well. Park Street has a golden heart & Not all Christians are bastards, realize Shaman, after recovering from this attack by the fellow Muslims.”
Basu pauses here, observing Christina’s sorrowful face. Christina realizes that her Park Street is not only about Christmas parties, or, night outs at Someplace Else. Her Park Street, is a great place to live, having great people like Aunty Nelly, who are ever-ready to help anyone who seeks help.
“Where else would you find this affection?” Christina wonders, while Basu smiles softly & an Anjan Dutt number peeps in from background.
“E sandhyer sahar amaar, je rastay neon ekakar, e rasta boroi purano, rastay amaar chhelebela, ekhan theke swapno dekha, alo adhari restaurant, e Kolkata sholo-ana, E Kolkata 16 amaar…”