Every morning, the brain wakes up but the body refuses to budge…it creeks and ouches at every possible point… needs lot of cajoling and petting to stand up and get going through the motion called life. Though I would have liked to withdraw myself completely…kind of Vanprastha perhaps, but Madhav has cast his Mayajaal so elaborately that I have to wait awhile before I can start walking towards Dikshunyapur…
My friends are also into that sphere where they ought to feel really tired and retire… however, I am amazed to find the jest in them to continue their march on the streets of every day (mundane?) chores… I guess it is the desire for more and more and more…some intrinsic, some materialistic… it is like glued to the Keshav App created by Madhav Inc. I have more or less everything that I may need, in fact more than I need but the Keshav App says yeh dil maange more!!!
Couple of months back, we were considering in investing in a larger accommodation and had almost fallen for a 4-bedroom ultra modern apartment of around 4000sqft… then I, first reasoned with myself and then with my better half, “Do we really need that big a place to live”? The current place is a 3-bedroom 2000sqft apartment in a very central location and in a peaceful colony. Yes, it needs some amount of renovation or makeover… and then in few years time in the near future, it will be just two of living here…the son is itching to go to the greener pastures of a place called “abroad” and it may happen sooner than we can anticipate… Thankfully, she understood and let it go but also reminded me that in the absence of any Govt. Pension (being in private service), we would need a steady income every month and a rental income will be welcome in days to come when we will be completely obsolete both physically and technologically and shall be unemployable/ unbusinessable. I agreed to that…
Two years back I sold off my Duster as it was standing in the garage and literally rusting as we were away in Hyderabad and there was no certainty when we will be back. It was a diesel vehicle and usurped 60% of its life (10 years being the limit). Things looked up in the last quarter of 2020 and we took the decision to come back. Initially, it was okay with one car as movement was restricted due to covid restrictions but as the guards were lowered, we realized three people wanted to go to three different directions and one car cannot cater to all… in the month of June we bought the second vehicle… And now I am realizing owing to personal reasons, I cannot go for a spin as I would have liked to… most days both vehicle don’t move an inch from their spot. Hindsight is always wiser!!
In this current environment of covid scare still looming over our heads, the movement is restricted; we go out when it is absolutely necessary. Visiting relations and friends (vice versa) is practically nonexistent and I am afraid, it shall remain so in the foreseeable future. In such a scenario, one neither needs a big house throw parties nor an exhaustive wardrobe to change into every few hours. When we came back to Delhi after closing down Hyderabad chapter, I cleared up my wardrobe by almost 50%…logic being that if I haven’t missed those clothes for 3 years, they are redundant to me…donating them to the charities was the only good thing to do…
Going forward, I expect our basic expenses will be on everyday subsistence viz. electricity, water and food with occasional refurbishment of wardrobes and travels (till the body supports) and most importantly MEDICAL EXPENSES. Therefore, how much is sufficient or say a bit more than sufficient to carry on with the charade. I am not good at maths so I left that decision to my better half which I believe she’s good at… I am more philosophical and believe that if Madhav wants me wait a while, He will ensure the charade continues uninterrupted.
A few of my friends, in the very near future are destined to be told by their employer, “Enough is enough you have slogged too hard for too many years go and rest a while”… What will they do with the sudden but inevitable interruption and change of course… I don’t know for each has to cope with their unique situation. I have chosen to be the Bawarchi of my home and a writer of irrelevant stories to keep me going bonkers. I am a recluse, a loner and introvert…I prefer the back office rather than the limelight of the reception desk.
Years ago, when I had not become the cranky atheist, I had consulted the astrologers and numerologists to know what the future holds for me… More often I was told that I would be successful as a businessman… taking their cue, I plunged into it only to realize that to be successful in business, one has to take all kinds of crap from the customer and vendor with a smiling face… one can’t tell them that they are simply morons. The worst comment I received was ‘Aranjit isme mazaa nahi aya’ and that after spending two sleepless nights to create an advertising communication because that’s what the timeframe demanded by the client… I went back created half a dozen more layouts and copy and returned after one week… then, the client goes back to the first and approves it. I decided next time I hear such a phrase, I will tell them to go someplace else to get their Mazaa. I did tell one of them but I was called back once they realized the mazaa is a relatively elusive phenomenon in communication.
I failed to keep up the momentum due to factors within my control and beyond my control; I was/am stubborn and carry my ego on the tip of my nose and therefore refused to take anymore bull crap from anyone howsoever high and mighty they maybe…externally, the good fellas with whom I had established a rapport through diligent service decided to look for greener pastures elsewhere and their replacements had their own agenda which I refused to accept. Also, 15 years of anarchy with my body had taken a toll on the health and frankly the years were catching up fast and furiously so I called it quits. Now, I am told to open up a restaurant or at least a ‘takeaway’ outlet and I am scared of yet another failure… I know, I am a reasonably good cook… I have inherited the ‘taste factor’ from my mother and refined the presentation by keenly watching numerous culinary shows. But home cooking is different from professional cooking. I don’t know if I should or shouldn’t… I leave it to the future…
We have a WhatsApp Group called Mastans of RBHS80 comprising of Class of 1980 of Raisina Bengali School, Mandir Marg (the original one). We discuss everything from sports to politics to religion to philosophy to x-rated subjects… we consider ourselves as Utracrepidarian (is someone who is in the habit of giving advice or have an opinion on matters of which he has no knowledge…like a politician)!!
Today, we were discussing some funny and naughty incidences during our school days and I thought why don’t I pen down the some of the memories before it fades away with age?
I joined the school in Class 4 as my parents wanted the child to learn mother-tongue Bengali and the best (at that time) was Raisina Bengali Higher Secondary School. My brothers had gone to Union Academy School but it was no longer in demand by the time it was my turn to join the high school. Anyways, the first friend that I can remember befriended me was Manojit Dasgupta aka Gora…
One evening when I had gone out play with my colony friends, he came searching for me in a full size cycle, and pedaling it in scissors style (I never could do it)… I got the details from my sister who couldn’t remember his name but knew his sisters (being in the same school, Vidya Bhawan). Next day, she found out where they lived and took me to meet him. That day we formed a friendship that is now more than 5 decades young and continuing. Together, we have done few adventurous trips, which I have written elsewhere (Summer of ’83 at aranyascope.com) and have shared our joys and sorrows and fought for each other as well as with each other.
The next one is Manas Kanti Chowdhury who joined in my class (and section) after the summer break. I used to take the School Bus from a stand across our residential block, there were many other students but mostly seniors of Middle School (class 6 to 8) and as that age group does, they royally ignored us, the juniors of Primary School (class 1 to 5). In such a scenario, one day, a gentleman with two kids holding his either hands joined our bus stop… the gentleman looked around and fixed his gaze on me for few moments and then approached me and asked my name and introduced me to his son Manas (my classmate) and daughter Mitali (probably one or two class junior). The friendship continues till date despite losing touch post school and reviving it some two decades ago through the initiative of my enterprising friends of RBHS80…
When I joined the school, Raisina used to be co-ed till class 6 and thereafter only for boys, however, this was to change later… by the time we completed the middle classes, the school decided to become coeducational institute. We welcomed the change as some of the heartthrobs of primary school rejoined us in class 9… one such sweetheart was Kanika Chatterjee…
It used to be ritualistic (even now, I believe) to distribute candies to classmates on one’s birthday… Kanika on her birthday gave away 2 candies to everyone barring me… she gave me a handful and thus the rumor spread like wildfire that she had a crush on me… while the truth is that neither of us had any inkling about it… I was ‘informed’ of the ‘status’ by one of my class as well as bus mate Nobin Ghosh… While returning home in the school bus, he asked me in a conspiratorial tone, “Do you know the meaning of mohabbat?” I truthfully told him that I had absolutely no clue about it. So, he continued and explained not only the meaning of mohabbat but the significance of those extra candies as well.
The next incident that I recall is of Ashish Banerjee aka Hathi… The incident was while we were in class 7, Ashish used to be FAT and I was close to be called anorexic but so were many others. Ashish was nicknamed Hathi (and till this day he is instantly recognized by that)… in one of our class (verbal) fights I said to him, “You’re Hathi’r Baccha” meaning son of Hathi. He complained to the class teacher Reena Didimoni. She asked me if it was true and I confirmed… She was perhaps impressed with my truthfulness and instead of reprimanding, she humored both of us and said, “Instead of calling him Hathi’r Baccha, you should call him Baccha Hathi”… and to break the ice, she arranged for ICE CREAM for the whole class. Ashish remains a Buddy till date.
The Class 8 brought with it our first share of ‘Group Punishment’ and helped develop a deep rooted bond that got rekindled about 15-16 years ago through Facebook and flourished through the years. The incident happened in class 8, one day, after the first period we had 2 periods off due to non-availability of teacher and the replacement teacher happened to be the PT teacher who sent us away to ground (Pahariwala ground) to play football. Let me tell you a bit about our school geography… the entry to the school is from the point where Peshwa Road connects to Mandir Marg… there are three schools, on the extreme left was DTEA, then in the middle NP Boys (now renamed Atal Adarsh Bal Vidyalaya) and extreme right is Raisina Bengali School (erstwhile Raisina Bengali Higher Secondary School). As you climb up the stairs from Mandir Marg, there are two lawns on either side then further up you reach the schools…the ground where we went to play is right behind the NP Boys on top of the hillock and it belongs to our school.
We went to play in the second period and should have come back by the end of third period (70 minutes) to attend the fourth period of Maths just before the recess. However, as with the boys of that age, we got so much involved in the game that we forgot the time (and I don’t recall anybody in the class having a wrist watch those days). One of our classmate Amit Mukherjee came down to the main building to drink water (we had no concept of carrying water bottles, packaged or otherwise) and was caught by the Maths Teacher Shri. Shyamal Roy Chowdhury. He asked Amit to get us all back immediately. We were all lined up outside the class and each one was given lash of cane on each palm and a hard slap on the left cheek… no discrimination about first bencher and last bencher. The recess for us was cancelled and we had to continue with the math class.
In the next class (Class 9), the girls returned to the school, few old ones including Kanika and few new entrants. The initial euphoria of having her back in school and that too in the same class was quickly evaporated when it was established that the class Hulk Biswanath Ghosh aka Bishu and Kanika had become (unofficial) couple. I was in touch with them till college days and knew about their flowering romance but lost touch thereafter. So, it was a shocker when I met the school buddies after some 20 years, to know that Bishu and Kanika had a breakup and she had moved to Canada where she tragically died of cardiac failure…the imaginative grapevine in a hushed tone suggested suicide!! Whatever may be the cause, it was tragic and I pray that her loving soul have attained Moksha. Om Shanti.
Another important thing happened while we were in class 9, we had a new Principal Shri Amarnath Banerjee who joined us from Sainik School, Purulia, West Bengal. He was a strict disciplinarian and extremely good administrator. During his tenure, Raisina flourished under his able guidance.
If the class 8 incident bonded the friendship of the classmates, the incident that happened in class 10, helped (some of) our bonding with the dreaded English Teacher, Shri Bablu Sanyal, affectionately nicknamed Jagga (as in Jagga Daku). He had a very short fuse and not just the students but the whole school including some teachers used to dread him and avoided crossing his path. Our friendship with him ensured immunity in the school from seniors as well as the teachers. Moreover, being in his good book automatically put us in the good books of maths, commerce/accountancy and biology teachers as they were close pals.
Class 10 meant we were to appear for term end Board Exams and the new Principal wanted good results for the school. He called for Tutorial Classes for the Board appearing students to be held every day after the regular school time. This was told to us in the morning (first class) by our Class Teacher Shri Bablu Sanyal aka Jagga and he advised that we all have “a tutorial note book for each subject”…we assumed the classes would start from the following day. However, it was a shocker when he landed up in our class as soon as the final bell rang. He asked us to open our “Tutorial Notebook” which none of us had barring few good boys who had un-used notebooks and took them out, but that number was significantly miniscule. It was a Monday and Jagga used to be in terrible mood on Mondays due to hangover from previous evening merriment. Realizing that most us do not have the Tutorial notebooks and have quietly taken out our “Rough copy”, he flared up and demanded to know why we have disobeyed him. The clever ones, including this one kept quiet but there are idiots and one such guy blurted out, “But Sir, you asked us in the morning only, how could…” the poor fellow couldn’t finish the sentence as a solid slap landed on his cheek… a few more were planted on some others who were in the vicinity of that idiot. He then, very quietly asked us to explain the meaning of “Gunny Bag” picking it up from one of the chapters from the text book. We surely knew the meaning of Gunny Bag but in Bengali, he wanted us to tell him in English!! Some of us probably knew the answer but in the tense situation we were all dumb-stuck. This time his fury fell on the well built hulks of the class including Bishu and they were welcomed to the class 10 with few blows that are etched in their body and mind till date. However, the very next day, he called some of us and told us to be successful, we must be prepared for the unexpected…it was, I guess (now), perhaps a way to apologize for his unwarranted behavior. He remained our Class Teacher through the rest of the years and “the gang” as he used refer to some of us became his protégés, for him we were beyond any mischief. What happened in the following year, made him proud of the class that was under his tutelage.
We were in Class XI and just before the HOLI, the colourful festival, the Principal Shri Amarnath Banerjee who by now had been affectionately nicknamed “Ganderi”…I will come to the reason a little later as to how the name evolved, announced in the Assembly that no students shall bring Gulal (Aabir) or any colour to play Holi in the school premises. If he hadn’t announced, nobody would have thought about it but since he said, it was decided to defy the order. On the Chhoti Holi day (the day before Holi), Bishu was all smiles as he showed us the Gulal packets in his bag. It was decided that the “Play” would take place in the recess. Jagga Sir could sense our planned mischief and jokingly warned us, “Remember, you can’t hide the color.”
As planned, we all splashed the Gulal on each other including the girls…we had 2 girls in our Commerce section but the Humanities students also shared the same class room which had around 6 girls out of their total strength of 11 students. As soon as the recess finished, we were hauled up at the Principal’s office in our colorful Avatars. Shri Amarnath Banerjee aka Ganderi wanted to know who had brought the colors so he could punish that fellow only for defying his dictate. But to his surprise, none of us opened our mouths including the girls and were ready to face the repercussions together. He kept on asking “Who brought the colours?” and Bishu, like a broken record kept repeating “I had the colours, Sir”. Though he was speaking the truth and perhaps trying to save the rest of us but it was not the answer that Gander Sir was looking for… in the process each of us got 3 or 4 lashes of cane on our palms and bums… one of the guy Utpal Das Sharma used to wear loose trousers the lash only fell on the trouser missing his flesh and he exclaimed (quite vocally), “Dhur Shala!!” meaning WTF. The Principal couldn’t figure out who said it and lashed out at the nearest student, a guy called Debashish Chatterjee or Chatu, a smart aleck who cried out, “more gelam” meaning “I am dying”. We were further detained for one hour once the school got over.
Looking back, I feel bad about some of my fellow classmates who were really innocent but stood by us with full solidarity…some of them were good friends of mine as well viz. Probal Ghosh (since kindergarten school), Taposh Dey, Niladri Mallick and few more…
Shortly thereafter, we all sailed into our final year of school, we were ‘The Seniors” and notorious as well but loved by our teachers and students. The Principal, Ganderi Sir had also accepted the fact that we were beyond redemption and thought once we leave school, peace would prevail.
Let me come back to the naming of Shri Amarnath Banerjee, in fact most of the teachers have had student given nicknames…some of them not so alluring… so I am refraining in spelling out those.
Well, when Shri Amarnath Banerjee joined our school, he immediately realized that the senior students, though are quite vocal amongst their fellow mates, they lacked the confidence of public speaking; of course there were exceptions. So, he initiated a process where the senior students from each class/section will give speak for few minutes on whatever subject of their choice, each day at the assembly. To break the ice, he recited a very famous patriotic poem in Bengali titled “Kandari Hushiar” by Kazi Nazrul Islam. So he instantly became Kandari (meaning the Helmsman or Steersman) of the School and later mutated to Ganderi (I will not tread the path to explain further… Samajhdaro ke liye ishara kaafi hai)…
We were in the final year of school and most of the students had by then decided their future course of life and accordingly they started preparing. But then, guys like us who neither had the vision nor had any counseling to tell us what we should aim for in the future. Our aim was therefore to clear the Board with best results and get into a college for graduation and job thereafter. In short, we were bindaas about our future. I had a longing to join the Defence Services (NDA) but my physic would not allow (I was thin like a stick with a potato head).
Anyways, like what the Principal said before Holi, he dictated that no one should burst crackers in the school premises before the Diwali. He shouldn’t have said that… it simply rekindled the thought of revenge in us… we planned well, both in terms of weapon of choice (the gola and sutli bombs), waited for the opportune moment and timed our moves perfectly. The result was a series of cracker burst at different locations near the Principal’s office when no one was around the places. The masterpiece was the one that blew out the nameplate of the Principal, we were with Jagga Sir discussing the game of cricket (his favourite sports), very far away from the hotspot but could hear the Bang. He looked at us and we acknowledged our handiwork in the ongoing ruckus thereby making him a partner of our crime. We also knew that he will now save us with all his might. The Principal also knew that it was all our doing but we had perfect alibi and witnesses, he couldn’t do anything. Revenge was served cold but boldly and the class of 1980 became Legend for years to come…
We passed out and went ahead in our lives but the bond that was formed in those days have only strengthened over the years and we hope it shall remain in the future as well.
I have huge Type 2 OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder), honestly, I don’t know if it is good or bad or ugly. I like to keep things in their proper places. I have often straighten up the framed pictures/paintings at places like doctor’s clinic, in client’s office, at friends or relatives home, and not just wall hangings but arranged furniture as well; always switch off the lights/ fan/ AC while going out from hotel room. I am told that my OCD has increased during the lockdown and WFH in the past one year. I don’t deny that because earlier, I was spending less time at home and even the other members too would leave for work early in the morning returning late evening. The entire house was at my command and I would ensure it is in proper shape without any external influence. However, with WFH, both my wife and son being at home, it is democracy now and I am no longer in control of things. This would cause stress and friction and I would often get irritated and at times show my angst.
The show of angst apparently has a negative effect on my son and he would shut himself in his room. Then my wife would vent her emotions and the cycle would go on…
Recently, I was reflecting my relationship with my father in my twenties. There is no shame in admitting that though it was friendly but never intimate with him. I never shared my work life trials and tribulations with him though he would routinely enquire about my job and general well being. Frankly, I was busy building up my career, preferring company of friends rather than spending time with my aging parents. Now, if my son in his mid-twenties does the same thing I have no reasons to complain but it feels sad to drink alone while he’s around.
I am often told that with my temperament, I should have been in the armed forces… in fact, in initial days in Hyderabad while walking Rolf in the neighborhood, many thought I am a retired army colonel, especially as I carried a baton to ward off the stray dogs!!
Coming back to the OCD, I am sure it is not genetically passed on to me because none of my parents had it, they were most liberal and accommodating and socially amiable. So, why I am like this?
Well, one of my sisters is a cleanliness freak: I remember, she had put up a signage at her home in Kashmere Gate that actually said, “NO SHOES/ CHAPPAL BEYOND THIS POINT”. In her home, the hair cutting of all the male members are a ceremony itself and had to be done on the same day…once back from the salon, each one should enter at a time and go straight to the bathroom to take bath, while the other(s) should stand outside. She had many such weird ideas and would force them on her husband and two sons. However, over the years, she had mellowed down or perhaps the guys have become rebels…
I am not that crazy!!!
I am a perfectionist or try to be one. Back in Dabur days, every year there used to be bunch of Management Trainees joining and they would routinely be sent to me for orientation. My word of advice to them, at the end of the session, would always be, “Try to be a perfectionist now because you will have to make lots of compromises as you climb up the corporate ladder.” I do not know if any of them had taken me seriously and had followed the advice.
The idea of perfection makes one an awkward guest in matters of interpersonal skills. You tend to lose the art of diplomacy and are blunt with your observation to the point of being rude. This definitely affects one’s career growth because no senior would like to be corrected at every corner. However, it gives a feeling of uprightness and pride that no one can snatch from you.
Coming back to the point, where it started, I often wonder about why I acted in certain way or why I am obsessed with the balance of things around me. Why it affects me if the ‘forks’ are kept in the same slot as that of ‘spoons’ or if the towels are not folded in a particular way. The answer to these is frightening…
With no occupation, gainful or otherwise, I have developed a feeling of being useless, a handicap to the other members of the family. In short, my existence doesn’t matter. This did not happen overnight but slowly and gradually over the last few years. My actions and language, if I may be blunt, is that of a frustrated loser who is trying hard to remain relevant to his surroundings.
I know that I have to get out of this mindset, but how?
Till few years back I was doing freelance designing and creative writing though it was not a regular affair but I used to be occupied at least 10-15 days a month on such assignments and moreover, since I was selective in accepting the job, it was mostly, intellectually fulfilling if not financially. Then in the end of 2017, I had to relocate to Hyderabad and all such opportunities simply vanished. I did some online content writing just keep myself occupied but they were poor both intellectually and financially and I lost interest in pursuing them. One particular organization still owes me money…
Also, around this time I had serious health issues and was confined to bed for more than 6 weeks… making me lethargic and it also made me question my ability to do anything…the self confidence took a nose dive. I became hesitant to talk to strangers and became a recluse…ready to dive into depression but thankfully I survived.
I started spending time in the kitchen…experimenting with traditional recipes and creating my own concoction. There have been disasters but only in terms of the look or getting overcooked but never on taste. My mother had passed on certain things genetically and I think the culinary skill is the best one…I am not boasting but the people who have tasted my food, do certify that it taste quite similar to what mom used to make. Obviously, I will never be able to reach her level… I tried making Punjabi Kadhi-Pakaudi, though it was edible, it lacked the zing that she could bring out.
Having worked in five star hotel kitchen for nine months, discipline and hygiene in the kitchen is ingrained in me and I generally keep the workstation clean as I work, keep washing the used utensils after use (not leaving it for the maid to wash up later) because, the dirty utensils can pile up and become eyesore (for me). However, my wife is just the opposite… she would work in the kitchen with gay abandon… so much so that once she had left her mobile phone inside the refrigerator and had looked for it not just through the house but the entire housing complex!!!
Anyways, it seems my working style is too dictatorial… it is my way or highway kind.
So, we have come up with a solution, I don’t enter the kitchen while my wife or the maid is working there and I don’t allow anyone to come inside while I am cooking. I don’t mind cutting the raw veggies, meat, fish on my own because based on the dish, these has to be cut in a particular shape…you can’t have one item shredded and the other cut in cube!! I am told it doesn’t matter but it does matter to me not just emotionally but scientifically too… if the veggies are cut in similar size and shape, they will cook uniformly and will look good in the dish as well.
The pandemic and resultant lockdown, restricted movement has had an effect on my culinary journey too. Anyone, who loves cooking, would confirm that if what you are cooking is not shared with others, it is no fun anymore. The whole of 2020 and I suspect 2021 will too see a taboo in get-togethers or very restricted entertainment. The sword of covid contamination is still hanging on our head and frankly, we are scared of meeting friends, relations… especially, because of the rise in cases across the country once again, as I write this…
Therefore, my active participation in the culinary sphere is also getting restricted to cooking up for my son whenever he’s home.
My other passion is reading & writing but that needs a cool, stress free mind… where do I find it?
There are at least 3 books which are in various stages of unread, in last 2 months I have picked them up to complete but haven’t moved beyond couple of pages. My dear friend Indrajit had been coaxing me to pick up the pen or rather open the laptop…I ended up translating a couple of posts that I received in whatsapp message…then my other dear friend, Monojit said, “These are nice but please write something original”.
To write something through imagination needs the mind to be uncluttered and to do that, I thought it is best to write down what’s on my head right now and be done with…
Hopefully, the next one will be a hardcore fiction with lots of action…
Three years ago, almost to the date, we had taken the call to relocate to Hyderabad after living in Delhi since our birth and through the ups and down of life. The reason we could take such a drastic call was because we no longer had any strings attached with the city, both our parents had crossed over the rainbow bridge, the only child is grown to be a fine person and living independent life in another southern city. We were looking forward to a great second innings of our life…
Well, it wasn’t such a great knock as far I am concerned but Deepika did love the city. Frankly, if asked, I can’t really find any fault with Hyderabad. The weather is generally good with only about 3 months of acute summer as against 6 months in Delhi, there’s practically no winter making it a place with even temperature all through the year. It’s a growing city with infra development all over the place and still having huge tracts of land for further growth. The govt of the day is thinking progressively and have some of the biggies in IT/ITES organizations to invest in the city generating employment. Then, what???
As I look back to this second innings, I realize we had missed few hard realities when we took the call…
We came to Hyderabad, a new city for us after crossing the half century mark of life. We didn’t have any friends except office colleagues for Deepika and a distant acquaintance from my Dabur days. We called both sets over dinner and lunch to bond and have bonhomie but it was not to be… colleagues, especially the ones reporting to you can’t become friends till you are their boss. With the other couple, I really don’t know their psych because they never called back or made any attempt to nurture the relationship. Once I met the lady while driving back home and had a forced conversation at the roadside for 5 minutes. There was no follow-up even though I was assured of a call back. I am a self confessed snob and egotist; I carry my ego at the tip of my nose… I am not going to call, ever again!!!
Despite such unwelcomeness, we managed to live in the city for almost 3 years now. We also met few guys who are like us ‘outsiders’ but have made Hyderabad their home now. These gentle souls are amiable and friendly; we perhaps would have bonded more but then covid jumped in the frame of things and all physical socialization became a taboo.
Coming from the city of forts and monuments, the famed Charminar and the Golconda Fort did not charm me but I was visibly impressed with the Salarjung Museum even though there’s a serious lack of maintenance and upkeep if you compare it with the European museums. I am also impressed with the Falaknuma Palace, the Taj Group that manages the hospitality section has kept it nicely and entertains the guests with lots of insight with a guided tour of the palace. Though the visit to Falaknuma Palace will make you poorer by few grand, it’s still a worthwhile visit, at least once in a lifetime for many of us.
One aspect of Hyderabad that amazed me and frankly I liked it a lot, is the size of the stand-alone shops, especially at the newer expanded part of the city viz. Gachibowli, Madhapur, Hitec, Jubilee Hills etc. I remember the Hypermart (now closed) inside the Inorbit Mall was my first experience of the hugeness of the supermarket both in terms of size as well as items. It was quite like Walmart stores in US. Talking about supermarkets, there’s a overload of them in the area where we live…with Spars, Vijetha, Big Bazaar, Reliance Fresh, Spencer, More and Ratnadeep having multiple outlets. There’s even one Tata-Tesco outlet too though I haven’t been there so far. These large outlets do elevate one’s shopping experience to another level and we found our solace visiting such outlets for our weekly rations every weekend. One could pick-up the dry grocery, vegetables, meat/fish/egg, and household cleaning items and even crockery-cutlery, kitchen utensils and even small electrical appliances too. So, even if you don’t intend to purchase anything beyond the veggies, it is a great place for hours of window-shopping!!!
The ONE thing that helped in favor of living in Hyderabad is choosing the right residential society. When we had decided to move here, many people suggested that we take up independent house preferably with lawns for Rolf to roam freely. We did our searches and realized that such houses don’t come cheap or even affordable besides having its own discomforts and disadvantages. Even Mr. Agarwal, the property consultant who was helping us to find a suitable accommodation advised against such places. The biggest disadvantage is the security besides the little errand jobs that would keep surfacing like plumbing and electrical repairs… honestly, though Hyderabad is much less polarized on language front compared to the other southern cities, it is still a difficult task explaining your problem to that class of people who mostly are proficient in their native tongue and has an understanding of English. So, living inside a relatively large residential complex takes care of these issues as they provide such concierge services. We were extremely lucky to chance upon the NCC Urban Residency and a fully furnished apartment where we just moved in with our clothes and few other items. Most of the apartments here have open spaces greeting them (no face-to-face flats) resulting in airy, naturally lighted rooms. Another advantage here is that there’s no surface traffic of vehicles, the parking is below ground giving much needed respite to the vehicles from natural wear-n-tear like blazing sun and incessant rain. There’s also a convenience store within the complex which was a great help during the lockdown period.
I must mention here that Hyderabad is much more pet friendly than Delhi, especially the kids are generally more dog loving and fearless. In our everyday walk, many of the kids would stop Rolf and cuddle him. There have been people in high-end luxury cars stopping and requesting a photo shoot with him!!! Also, there are dedicated individuals in the complex who regularly feed the street mongrels’ morning and evening. I found the Streetys’ of Hyderabad much docile compared to some of the resident devils that we have in my New Delhi residential colony. Every day, two of such streetys’ accompany us in our walk since the lockdown began in March and they are kind of bodyguards to Rolf!!!
I have mentioned earlier too but it needs to be reiterated again…the daring devils in 2-wheelers, both male and female. It seems that the covid hasn’t been able dampen their spirits; on the contrary, the near empty streets have made them even more brazen in their misadventures on the road. Earlier, the excuse for rash driving was to reach the work place on time (which is a misnomer in Hyderabad – no one takes the appointment time seriously; reaching in 10 minutes may mean “reaching in 2 hour” and without apology), but now why are they putting theirs as well as other’s life on the edge, is unfathomable. The closing of the offices had taken out the Mahindra Xylos and all such call centre vehicles from the equation giving much relief to the normal humans behind the wheels.
As I was writing this, Hyderabad faced unprecedented rain for over 3 days due to depression in the Bay of Bengal. Normally such depression and subsequent landfalls doesn’t have much impact on the city as it is at least 500 km inland from the shores. But this time, the rains created havoc, especially in old city and other low lying areas as almost all the lakes and water bodies became full to the brim. The floodgates of Himayatsagar Reservoir were opened up after 8+ years and river Musi flowed with full glory of the past. We were spared the agony as the area where we live is on higher grounds and relatively better planned than the old city. The only damage our residential complex witnessed was few uprooted trees including one that we had planted and grown to about 10 feet height. And as per the IMD, there’s no respite for at least another 7-10 days with sporadic rain across the region. Most of the times, in Hyderabad, the rains start in the evening hours and then continue till about midnight or sometimes carry over to the morning as well.
One disturbing trend that I have noticed not only in Hyderabad but in Bengaluru and Chennai as well is the lack of civic sense; barring the main roads of the city, the sidewalks of the colony roads are used as dump yards. And most of the cases it is the well to do households that dumps their daily garbage and other disposable/ discards on the roadside. The municipal corporation is either ill equipped and/or least interested in clearing and cleaning of the muck. In Bengaluru, they simply burn the stuff at site once the dump becomes eyesore for the bosses.
Our residential complex Nagarjuna Residency is situated on a connecting road between Old Mumbai Highway and Mindspace Road which also boasts of two of the most popular schools viz. Prerana Waldorf School and NASR School for Boys. It is the latter that is the cause of concern. It has a sprawling campus with separate grounds for football and hockey and also houses the bunglow for the Principal or the Head of the Institution and is well landscaped with water bodies for the ducks to swim. Since about a month back the housekeeping workers from the school started dumping first the pruned tree leaves and other remnants and then even the household garbage including food waste on the sidewalks just opposite the school. The situation has gone from bad to worst with the garbage now overflowing onto the road as well. I understand that the workers were told not to dump but they haven’t heeded, in fact they openly flaunt a devil may care attitude, obviously assured of support from their politically well connected boss’s. I am told that numerous complaints/ requests have been lodged with GHMC but so far no action has been initiated to clear up the mess. Don’t know what values are they imbibing in their students!!!
First time in the last three years, we will be spending the Durga Puja in Hyderabad but alas the covid has ensured that we don’t get to see the Durgotsav of Hyderabad as most of them are either doing a symbolic puja or have restricted the entry to the members only. The Durga Puja, as I have seen growing up is “Sarbojonin” meaning it is open to public from all walks of life without restriction and without bias of race, religion, color and caste…but the Covid19 has taken out the “Sarbojonin” out of it making it a private affair of the few. I understand it would be difficult for the organizers to control the devotees if it is kept open to all but then why have it in first place? This year, so many other religious and cultural celebrations were cancelled or curtailed across the country, so why not cancel the Durgotsav as well. I can smell politics… WB will be going to polls next year, so they have to please the citizens who have been waiting for the biggest cultural festival of the land. There’s commercial angle to it as well, the Durga Puja coincides with Navratras culminating in Dusshera and ushers in the festive season of Diwali which also witnesses a frenzied buying season. The argument in favour is that the “economy needs the boost” and I agree on that point but can it be at the cost of the health of people? I don’t want to be the judge, let people decide what’s best for them. On my part, with great reluctance and at continuous pestering of Deepika have agreed let a Purohit come and do the annual Kojagori Laxmi Puja in a much smaller scale…
Contrary to the popular belief, the Goddess neither arrives nor leaves. She is the omnipresent, she has existed before time and will continue to stay beyond eternity… She is always around you and also within you, She lives in your conscience and in your breath, often guiding your soul when you invoke her, showing you the path whenever you deviate. Durga Puja and the nine nights of Autumn are therefore symbolic of our life. We arrive, we live through our blessings, we celebrate our existence, and we merge back into our elements.
For me Maa Durga manifests in two primary forms…
(1) AS MOTHER: Ya Devi Sarbobhutesu Matrirupenam Sangsthita, Namasteswai Namasteswai Namah Nama…
(2) AS SHAKTI: Ya Devi Sarbobhutesu Shaktirupenam Sangsthita, Namasteswai Namasteswai Namah Nama…
This year, I would like her Shakti Roop to unleash her fury on Coronasur and vanquish the demon of Covid19 from the face of the Mother Earth!!!
In the closing days of 2019, the popular joke was “How different will be the new year 2020?” and the cryptic answer in Hindi used be, “Zyada nahi, Unnis-Bees ka hi farak padhega.”
Well, I guess the Kaal Chakra probably was having a hearty laugh… the 2020 has turned world upside down, we are past the 9th month and is on the verge of forgetting what’s it like being normal. The term “New Normal” has been coined to calm the nerve of the human race but how long can this new normal be sustainable? In the process of keeping physical distance, we are getting socially distant, the grandchild is not allowed to hug the grandparents, the best buddies can’t even shake hands, there’s always a fear, “Will I get infected doing that or that?”
So, how’s my 2020?
Well, the year started off promisingly… in the first week of January we were in Delhi enjoying a particularly good chilly winter which we have been missing for three years having relocated to the southern cities. Then in February, we went to Goa to celebrate my son, Ayush’s 25th birthday. Though it was a short stay of 2N3D, it was thoroughly enjoyable. We used the opportunity to take possession of the One Bedroom pad that we had taken up jointly with our long time friend Robin. Looking back it was a wise decision to complete the govt formalities using the short sojourn.
We were in the middle of discussion about our June (anniversary) vacation that we usually undertake with Basu family when the lockdown happened. At first it was fun getting locked up with all offices and school/ college closed, shopping malls, multiplexes and restaurants closed… nowhere to go, no one to visit you. The lockdown happened from 23rd March and because of our Goa trip the previous month, the buying cycle of our monthly groceries had somehow moved to the middle of March, so we were well stocked up for a month and more. As far as vegetables and fruits and dairies were concerned, the convenience store within the housing complex geared up to cater to 350+ families. The NCC Urban Residency did an excellent job by arranging fruit, vegetable and meat vendors to come to the complex and set weekly shop and/or deliver the online orders. In fact, we were never out of any stuff during the complete lockdown of the phase I.
However, our son who lives in Bengaluru wasn’t so lucky… he had gone to Goa again in March 2nd week with his school/college friends and as a conscious citizen went ahead with one week self isolation upon his return on 16th March. Ironically, the day he could go out was the day nationwide complete lockdown happened. To make matter even grimmer, his flat-mate decided to move with his girlfriend in the same city, thereby leaving him alone in the apartment. It had a positive side as well… he no longer had to share the limited grocery and other food stock and could extend till the relaxation happened. Deepika used her connections in Bengaluru to arrange for some medicine that he had run out but beyond that we could not help much. It was agreed that at the first opportunity he will come over to Hyderabad as his company like many others had announced WFH till end of the year, so location did not matter…
One item that reached critically low (quantity) was the Dentastix of Rolf and surprisingly, the Pet Food was not considered “Essential” by the govt, therefore no e-commerce sites were delivering any pet food. I had to cut them in half to extend the inevitable end and every day would remind Rolf that soon it will be over…
Then one evening during our daily call, Ayush suggested that I try the Swiggy app which had started delivering grocery and other stuff. It was such a relief when the following day I could locate one shop having stock of Pedigree Dentastix, I ordered for 8 packets good for 8 weeks hoping that life would step back to normalcy by then.
One gets used to certain luxuries of life, mine being my morning cup of Lipton Darjeeling Tea which I have been having since the time I started drinking tea!! Unfortunately, my stock got over by April end and it was not to be found in our convenience store (though it was an extension of a large departmental store) and I had to look at outside avenues. The famed BIG BASKET failed miserably in our expectations, though they had the tea but for continuously 15 days, their delivery slots were always blocked and all this while I could see their delivery executives visiting our complex not once but twice a day to deliver to different apartments. I had to adjust with whatever was available for about a week before I could get it from Amazon pantry.
I was addicted to gutkha (mixture of betel nut & chewable tobacco) for over two decades… my stock got over in the second week of lockdown and since the pan shops were shut, there was no way to replenish; the first week I did show some withdrawal symptoms like headaches and irritability but I suppressed the urge knowing that this was one opportunity to chuck the addiction. Once the shops opened up I crossed my regular shop while driving back home but there was no urge to have it…
NRFOWA, the RWA of our residential complex proactively stopped the services of the maid, drivers and other helps to all apartments except to few senior citizens living alone in the beginning of March. They also put an embargo on visitors to the complex much before it was official, thereby reducing the chance of infection. We have had sporadic cases since the lockdown relaxation and the figure approx. 10-12 out of over 1000 residents.
I must mention here the need for clear communication to the last man at the front… recently I read a story of a Delhi based advocate winning a case against Delhi Police. The person was fined INR500 for not wearing a mask while driving alone in his car. Apparently the policeman who challaned him was not briefed properly as to what constitute as public space and what’s a private domain. Similarly, when the lockdown happened on 23rd March, the RWA had issued advisory that morning walk/ jogging etc along with sports arena are being closed to residents. There were exceptions mentioned like pet walking and visiting the convenience store for essential items… So, as soon as I had had stepped out with Rolf for the morning walk, a young guard came rushing towards us and said we must not walk and should go back immediately. Since I had read the advisory earlier, told him politely that pet walking is allowed under exceptions, but he was adamant that there’s no exception and we must turn back. It was irritating so I told him to convince Rolf otherwise we are going ahead, he can take a chill pill. As expected, he rushed to his Supervisor at the main gate and complained. As we approached the gate (about 200 meters from our apartment), the Supervisor came up with the same narrative; I showed him the entire communication of the RWA to which he said that he wasn’t aware of the same and can’t allow me to go out of the complex. Needless to say, I was furious and told him that I am going out definitely and he can complain about me to anyone he deems fit. I think I had raised my voice a bit high and also used some choice words which made him realize to back off…
In April, Rolf became 11 (hooman) years young… the celebrations were low key due to complete lockdown but he got extra portion of “Chimken” and 2 scoops of Vanilla Ice Cream…
In Hyderabad, the worst months in terms of weather are April to June when the dry heat of April-May becomes humid and sultry by the beginning of June, you simply pray for the rain god to come soon!! This year, because of the lockdown, staying indoors, the severity of the weather was not felt, especially for people like us who are living on the ground floors of multi-storied complexes. We also avoided the severity of the monsoon which this year had been above average resulting in many water logging in the city. So, to that extent the lockdown has been a blessing in disguise.
After two cancellation of flight, Ayush finally managed to reach Hyderabad on 7th June morning and immediately quarantined himself for the next 7 days. The 3 months of no-gym had a toll on his body both physically and mentally. For a young man, being locked up at home without any social contact is really frustrating. Even under normal circumstances, I rarely moved out but when you are forced stay indoors because of external factor, there’s kind of rebellion enters the mindset. I could sense that in Ayush with his constant irritable stance and practically non-communication. His mother and my wife Deepika was concerned and upset at the situation but I knew that over time, he will be fine. Since 2013, he has been staying away from home, first in college hostel and then with flat mates when he started corporate life…he had tasted the gay abandon of living separately from the parents… what he needed was an assurance of having a private space while living with us which I ensured through minimal interference in his life. His presence also provided me with an opportunity to explore my culinary skills. I have never cooked as much as I did in the last 3-4 months. He has settled down now and is enjoying his stay at home, although he refuses to acknowledge Hyderabad as home and calls it a camp and frankly I agree with him on this count.
Actually, the private space factor is very important in all relationships… it affected me too in some ways… Since the time we moved to Hyderabad in the beginning of 2018, my life had seen a kind of solitude 5 days a week… from Monday to Friday I used to be on my own once Deepika left for office or I dropped her to office. However, with Deepika working from home, I first had to give up my desk and the cozy corner office that I created for myself, then my OCD came to the fore and we would often get into arguments over trivial issues. The presence of Ayush helped in minimizing the domestic skirmishes as well, although my OCD is still quite strong but I am now simply going about it quietly.
In June, we celebrated our 29th anniversary quietly with Ayush in attendance taking pictures for memory sake. Normally, every year barring a few emergency situations, we have gone for “destination celebrations” with our dear friend the Basu Family (and sometimes the Dutts as well), but this was exceptionally different.
Now, most of the lockdown restrictions are gone, not because the epidemic is over but people are impatient to get back to pre-covid freedom but there lies the real threat of another wave of the pandemic in the near future. The least one could do is to maintain physical distance, wear a mask and keep oneself sanitized while in the public places. It is really surprising to see the educated people not wearing the mask properly covering the mouth & nose or even not wearing at all. I am told by my friends in Delhi, Mumbai and Kolkata that this is an issue even there too; in fact a friend who drove down from Siliguri to Kolkata said that about 60% people are covering their faces in some form in Kolkata but in the hinterland it is business as usual…no mask, no physical distancing.
As I was concluding this piece, the news came in that C-19 has entangled my in-laws family in Delhi. My prayers are with them for a speedy recovery.
The Unnees-Bees joke has given way to “I am not adding 2020 because I didn’t use it” statements from all netizens. Frankly, I don’t care if it gets added or subtracted, I want the last quarter to sprint to the checkered flag… and I would surely like to welcome the circa 2021 with all my friends around in a grand celebration.
We have lived through the 9 months unscathed and sincerely hope to scrape past the balance 3 months as well in good health and high spirit.
I am really tired and RETIRED… Every morning, the brain wakes up but the body refuses to budge…it creeks and ouches at every possible point… needs lot of cajoling and petting to stand up and get going through the motion called life. Though I would have liked to withdraw myself completely…kind of Vanprastha perhaps, but…
The Covid pandemic (second wave) and voluntary house arrest therefore has had some psychological effect on all of us. There have been mood swings to the extreme at times. What we needed was to come out of the shell. The infrequent visits to the mall or eating out wasn’t the kind that satiated our appetite…
I was born and raised in Karol Bagh, more specifically in an area called WEA (Western Extension Area). I have lived in 6 houses in the span of 24 years of life; though I don’t remember the house no. of 14A block where I was born (it belonged to a doctor named Dr.Bali) or the…
Sushant Singh Rajput took his life… committed suicide at the young age of just 34 years!!
Somehow, this news has rattled not just me but a whole lot of people. Why? I did not know him personally nor did I follow his film career as a fan. He did some remarkable cinemas like Kai Po Che, MSD, Kedarnath, Chhichhore etc which shall remained etched in ones memory for years… but the question remains why did he take the extreme step?
As my son pointed out, the “suicidal thought” is something that’s embedded in the persons mind for a long time but is subdued by the happenings in one’s life. I agree with him, in fact I would like to point out that a large section of the society around us have a dormant suicidal thought deeply embedded in their subconscious and in most of them it remains dormant all through their life.
I remember of a death by suicide in my distant family… the person was highly educated (Gold Medalist), well established in profession (professor at a renowned university) and had a beautiful family. I have met him once or twice as a child and my memory is that of a benevolent uncle who would give me a Cadbury Chocolate bar every time we met. However, my mother and elder siblings believed otherwise; according to them he was self-centered, selfish person who ill treated his wife and child and made her leave home with their child never to return again.
Why I brought it up? Well, I wanted to bring about a different dimension to the narrative of suicide.
Many years later, that child and I became very good friend, we used to communicate every week through snail mail (the only option in those days) and would meet once or twice a year. In one such communique, she informed me of her father’s demise by an act of suicide. She wrote and I am quoting from memory, “I don’t know whether I should grieve on his death or feel freedom from a suffocating relationship. Frankly, I do not know him much or rather he did not let me know him all these years. All I know is that he loved oneself immensely which to the outside world seemed self-centered, selfish and therefore, his taking this extreme step reveals that he was in some kind of deep pain which he could not withstand anymore.”
I think I wrote back some consoling thoughts which I did not believe myself. But her words that “how could a person who loved himself so much take his own life”, remained etched in my subconscious and surfaced now when I read the news of SSR.
Most people consider suicide to be act cowardice, I don’t. It takes guts to jump off the 20th floor, put the noose around one’s own neck and then kick the chair, gulp down a bottle of high-dose sedative or slash the vein of your wrist. Yes, it takes lot of unbearable pain, both mental and physical that induces the person to take the final step. Why guts? Because, the person is fully aware that there will be no turning back once the clock is set in motion. The desire to live for something… to love someone gets erased momentarily but completely… it is like one has entered a tunnel where it is only way forward to an endless abyss. So what triggers this? Many things actually in succession or simultaneously… be it a financial or emotional loss… it could be certain physical ailment that has reached incurable stage.
The counter argument often is that one should talk to family, friends or doctor to get out of the misery. But what to do when one has lost all the zest for life? Think of the terminally ill patient counting days while experiencing excruciating pain every moment that refuses to subside even with the strongest medication. Think about the person in vegetative state where the mind is alert but rest of the body including the tongue is inert or the comatose patient occupying the (hospital) bed for years together. There is no coming out these miseries even if you have tons of wealth to garner the best medical team. Will it not be logical or rational to let the person go with honor? It does sound politically correct to say that the family will take care… arrange for best medical facilities… and hope the person gets well, when it is evident that it is not going to happen, the vegetative figure will never get up and stand on its feet.
The mental illness or the depression is something that doesn’t happen overnight but seeps into the brain cavities over a period of time. What triggers it is a point of debate…
Let’s take a hypothetical case of a person who had been in a administrative job all his/her life…the person having worked in middle management level was never a decision maker but a good follower and implementer of the instructions… suddenly with the lockdown across the country forcing the employees to work out of home, makes his/her job redundant… with still few years before retirement… with no other skill set to explore newer alternatives… becomes kind of unrelevant to his/ her own universe. The person is physically there amongst people but has nothing to contribute productively. His/her existence is taken for granted and doesn’t have any impact on the people around except probably as an irritant. He/she quietly waits in silence to become completely irrelevant from this stage of unrelevant before fading away completely.
There’s a section of such people who disappear in milling crowd in anonymity, some take the spiritual route to find relevance of their existence. Though the thought of going to Dikshunnopur is highly romantic as has been painted by the Bengali author late Shri Sunil Gangopadhyay or Neel-Lohit (pseudonym) but I find it to be uncourageous because one remains as useless as before… still unproductive, a parasite living off the society… only the environment changes.
I strongly feel that if such a situation arise in one’s life, it is better to go with your dignity intact. There is no shame in accepting the final defeat and cross over the rainbow bridge to a world of classless society… (I am guessing!!)
NB: Won’t be apologetic to those who may find this “defeatist and/or morbid”… I have the freedom of thoughts…