The rhythm of life

Her name is Ru. Right from her birth, she got introduced to the magical rhythm of tabla by an uncle next door. She used to fondly call him Bajumama ( mama means maternal uncle in Bengali). They were all distant relatives staying in adjacent houses who were once uprooted from Bangladesh during the Liberation War of 1971 and has taken refuge in the city of Agartala in the northeastern corner of India. Finally, they made a home in the same city, and gradually those families started thriving together. 

Ru got accustomed to falling asleep while listening to different Rythm(Taal) being played by Bajumama’s magical fingers creating music and even wake up listening to it. During rain, the 'Dadra', 'Tri Taal', ‘Keherwa’, ‘Rupak’ of tabla used to get fused with the drops of rain and attain a different motion with the magic of the music. The infused smell of the wet mud and the pouring rhythm was a part of the rainy season as important as those crystal clear pouring droplets. Summer, winter, autumn, and spring had a different rhythm, variable notes as expressed by the recital of his tabla.

Just as different essence of life and part of growing up, gradually those ‘Bol’ and ‘Taal’ of the Tabla, Bajumama, many other neighbors became feeble existence in Ru’s life as she became busy in her new life and studies. She had to go, dancing classes, singing classes, painting classes after regular school hours. In summers swimming class and visits from her cousins and visiting cousins used to keep her busy. While in the fourth standard they moved to a new house in the same lane and hence she got completely disillusioned from that part of her life.

It was several years after that. She was in the tenth standard gearing up for her secondary exams. One morning she wakes up with the hush in the house and a gloomy mood all around. When she went to the verandah, she could spot the neighborhood full of people. Everyone was busy in some discussion and it was quite obvious that the topic is something severe. After several inquiries, her mom spilled the bin. She was in utter shock from what she heard. That day Baju mama was being sent to a mental asylum as he was acting insane for the last few days. It seems he was already under medication. Recently things move out of control when he started acting violently. He was agitated with the entire society and especially with his parents.  Since his parents lost complete control they decided to hand him over to the asylum.

The flashback of those bright eyes, the wide warm smile of assurance and affection for a little curious kid and magical finger creating music started pouring back in Ru’s mind. There are so many talents who are getting lost unacknowledged. There is not enough provision for those talented people for jobs and to carry out a livelihood. After a certain time, they all face the reality of earning alms, fulfilling societal terms. Unless and until you are exceptionally brilliant in performing arts with good connections with the affluent and influentials, your talent gets lost in the crowd. Some people find out an alternative and settle down with some adjustments. Unfortunately, few like Baju mama who used to live in Rhythms and talk through the beats of tabla get frustrated and lose hope after a certain time. Only a few smiles, little encouragement would have made his life worthwhile.

Ru started wondering as she heard once that music is the healer of every wound …what if music is the cause of your wound?? There must be many such unaccomplished singers, artists, and musicians who are every day losing the fight and deciding to quit. She started weaving a dream that one day she will try to create some platform for those talents so that they can bloom a little in a worry-free life... She wanted to scream and let the world aware of their existence.

আমার জীবনে রবীন্দ্রনাথ

রবীন্দ্রনাথের লেখার সাথে প্রথম পরিচয় হয় যখন,তখন আমি বাংলা পড়তে বা লিখতে কোনো টাই পারতাম না।  তাই দাদাভাই এর মুখে 'বীরপুরুষ' শুনতে শুনতে নিজের ভাবনাকে সঙ্গে করে চলে যেতাম অনেক দূরে:

আমি যাচ্ছি রাঙা ঘোড়ার পরে
টগবগিয়ে তোমার পাশে পাশে

নিজের অজান্তেই আমার শিশু মন ভাবতে শুরু করতো আমি  বুঝি মায়ের প্রহরী, প্রচন্ড প্রতাপশালী। বাস্তবে ফিরে আসতে ইচ্ছেই করতো না।
মা এর সাথে প্রথম খেলা, একে ওপরের কাছাকাছি না থাকার ব্যাথা প্রথম অনুভব করেছিলাম, আমার মা যখন  আমাকে 'লুকোচুরি' পড়ে শুনিয়েছিলো:

আমি যদি দুষ্টুমি করে
চাঁপার গাছে চাঁপা হয়ে ফুটি

মা যখন বকাবকি করতো, আমি ভাবতাম আমিও কোনো গাছে ফুল হয়ে ফুটে উঠি।  মা আমায় আর খুঁজে পাবে না, কিন্তু আমি মা কে সবসময় চোখে চোখে রাখবো। আমি দেখবো আমায় দেখতে না পেয়ে, মা আমায় কিভাবে খুঁজে বেড়াচ্ছে। মা তখন স্কুল এর শিক্ষিকা হবার জন্যে ইন্টারভিউ দিতে যেত।  আমার খুব রাগ হতো ।  মনে মনে ভাবতাম আমাকে এত অবহেলা। আমাকে ফেলে স্কুলে পড়াতে যাবার প্লান হচ্ছে ।  সে আমি হতেই দেব না ।  যদি সত্যি সত্যি যায় তবে দেখাবো মজা ।  নয়নতারা গাছের ফুল ই হয়ে যাবো আমি । নিজের অগোচরেই কখন যে কবিরতার অংশ হয়ে যেতাম, কখনো বুঝতে পারি নি । ফুল হয়ে তো আর ফুটতে পারি নি , কিন্তু রবীন্দ্রনাথ অবশ্যই মনে কুড়ি বেঁধে গিয়েছিল ।

আমাদের বাড়িতে দশ পুরুষের পুরোনো প্রতিষ্ঠিত কৃষ্ণ ঠাকুরের যে বিগ্রহকে নিত্য পুজো করা হয় উনার নাম 'গোপীনাথ' ঠাকুর।  তাই ছোটবেলা 'রবীন্দ্রনাথ ঠাকুর 'শুনে শুনে ভাবতাম উনিও বুঝি আমাদের ঘরেরই আরেক ঠাকুর ।  মনে মনে তাই ঠাকুর ঘরে প্রনাম করার সময়, রবীন্দ্রনাথ এর উদ্দেশ্যেও একটা প্রনাম করতাম। মা কে জিজ্ঞেস ও করেছি বেশ কয়েকবার যে 'রবীন্দ্রনাথ ঠাকুরের' কোনো মূর্তি কেন নেই ঠাকুর ঘরে।  মা বলেছিল যে রবীন্দ্রনাথ ঠাকুর শুধু ঠাকুর ঘরে থাকে না , সব জায়গায় দেখতে পাবে।  তাই আগরতলা র রবীন্দ্র ভবনে একবার 'রবীন্দ্রনাথ ঠাকুরের 'মূর্তি দেখে কি যে খুশি হয়েছিলাম। আসতে আসতে বুজলাম যে রবীন্দ্রনাথ ঠাকুরের  ঠাই  বিশ্বজুড়ে।

"রাজব্যবস্থা" আর "বড় এসেছে বীরের ছাদে" এত বার আবৃতি করেছি  যে এখন ভাবলে মনে হয়  ওরা যেন ছোটবেলার একটা অংশ ।  কাবুলিওলার খুকী আর ডাকঘরের অমল যেন ছিল অতি পরিচিত বন্ধু।
নাচের ক্লাসে "শীতের হওয়ায় লাগলো নাচন" আর "পাগলা হওয়ার বাদল দিনে" শুনে বুঝতে শিখেছিলাম প্রত্যেক টা ঋতু কে যে আলাদা করে ভালোবাসা যায়। আমার এক দিদির কাছে প্রথম গান শেখার হাতেখড়ি ।  'আয় তবে সহচরি' আমার শেখা প্রথম গান। "আমাদের ভয় কাহারে" যখন গাইতাম তখন সত্যি মনের মধ্যে কি যে একটা অদ্ভুত আনন্দ হতো ।  ঐ প্রথম জানা, প্রথম শেখার অনুভূতি গুলো যেন রবীন্দ্রনাথ সকলের জন্যে সাজিয়ে দিয়ে গেছে। বড় হবার সাথে সাথে অনুভূতি বদলেছে।  বদলেছে ভাব, ভাবনা, ভালোলাগা, মন্দলাগা, বন্ধু। কিন্তু যেটা অবিচল থেকে গেছে, সেটা হলো রবীন্দ্র রচনার সঙ্গ।

আমার ছোট কাকু আমাকে প্রত্যেক বছর জন্মদিনে একটা করে খয়েরি মলাট জড়ানো বিশ্বভারতীর প্রকাশিত রবীন্দ্রনাথের লেখা  বই উপহার দিত ।  বলতো খুব মূল্যবান উপহার দিচ্ছি।  এখন বুঝি মূল্য দিয়ে ওই উপহারের কোনো ওজন হয় না ।  মহা সম্পদ দিয়েছে আমাকে ।  সারা জীবন দিয়ে  আমি ওই সম্পদ ভেঙে চলতে পারবো, তবুও ওই সম্পদ ফুরাবে না । রবীন্দ্রনাথের 

রচনা " সারা দিন সঙ্গোপনে সুধারস ঢালবে মনে"।

আসতে আসতে তালগাছ ছাড়িয়ে, বড় হবার সাথে সাথে অনেক প্রশ্ন সাথে নিয়ে "গোড়া" আর "নিরুপমা" প্রবেশ করলো। পরে এলো এক এক করে 'চিত্রাঙ্গদা', 'চোখের বালি' আরো কত গল্প।  সবগুলো যেন মনের ভেতরে মিশে যেত। কখনো কোনো কোনো গল্প পড়ে গল্পের নায়িকার প্রতি খুব রাগ হতো। কোনো কোনো গল্পের প্রধান চরিত্র কে আমি বাস্তবে খুঁজে বেড়াতাম ।  উনার লেখনীর মধ্যে যেটা সবচাইতে ভালো লাগতো তা হলো নায়িকাকে জীবন যুদ্ধে জিতিয়ে দেওয়া। তারা প্রাণ ত্যাগ করে হলেও সবসময় জিতে যেত । 

আমার যে পিসি আমাকে সবচাইতে বেশি পড়াশোনা করতে সাহায্য করেছেন সেই পিসি কে দেখলে মনে হয়তো 'কৃষ্ণকলি' যেন রবীন্দ্রনাথ আমার পিসি কে দেখেই লিখেছিলেন। পিসির গায়ের রং চাপা হলেও কারো চেহারা যে এত সুন্দর হতে পারে তা পিসি কে না দেখলে কেউ বুঝতে পারবে না। যেন তুলি দিয়ে একে রাখা কোনো প্রতীমা । "মুক্তবেণী পিঠের 'পরে লোটে। কালো? তা সে যতই কালো হোক, দেখেছি তার কালো হরিণ-চোখ" ..  কারো সৌন্দর্য যে গায়ের রং নয় তা উনি বার বার উনার রচনার মাধ্যমে চোখে আঙ্গুল দিয়ে দেখিয়েছেন । নারী শিক্ষা, বিধবা বিবাহ সব কিছু একে একে গল্পের মাধ্যমে সবাইকে জানিয়েছেন। 

কোনো চরিত্র ভালো লেগে গেলে মনে হতো ইস আমার নাম যদি ওটা হতো।  যেরকম 'চিত্রাঙ্গদা'।
আমার 'তনুকা' নামটা ও তো উনার লেখা কবিতা 'ক্যামেলিয়া' থেকে ধার নেওয়া।  তাই ভাবি এই অহংকার তো উনি আমাকে দিয়েছেনই 'আমি গার্গী নই, মৈত্রী নই, হৈমন্তী নই, চিত্রাঙ্গদা ও নই..আমি 'তনুকা'।

অবশ্য শুধু কি প্রেম আর আবেগ? আত্মত্যাগ, শিক্ষার মর্যাদা, দেশপ্রেম সব কিছুতেই আমার জীবনে তুমি প্রথম । আর তার কখনো বিকল্প হয় নি আর হবেও না ।  যতই দিন কেটেছে ঘুরে ফিরে আবার সেই রবীন্দ্রনাথ এর লেখাতেই ফিরে এসেছি ।  জীবন সকল প্রসের উত্তর যেন এখানে ।  মনের সকল শান্তি আর ভালোবাসা যেন উজাড় করে দিয়ে গেছেন উনি মানবজাতির জন্যে।  মন যখন খুব অবিচল হয়ে ওঠে তখন মনের ভেতর থেকে উনার ই লেখা পংক্তি গুলো গর্জে ওঠে "ভগবান তুমি যুগে যুগে দুটি পাঠিয়েছেন বারে বারে" কিংবা 'ক্ষমা করো সবে' , বলে গেল "ভালোবাসো- অন্তর হতে বিদ্ধেষ  বিষ নাশো"। চারিদিকে দাঙ্গা হাঙ্গামা দেখে বার বার কি মনে ফিরে আসে না সেই দেশের খোঁজ যার স্বপ্নের বীজ রবীন্দ্রনাথ আমাদের মনে গেঁথে দিয়ে গেছে "চিত্ত যেথা ভয় শূন্য" লিখে।

চলতে চলতে কখনো হাপিয়ে উঠলে মনের মধ্যে যে প্রথম গানের আওয়াজ ভেসে আসে তা হলো "ক্লান্তি আমার ক্ষমা করো প্রভু "

উনি লেখার মাধ্যমে শিখিয়ে গেছেন  আমরা যেন বিপদ কে ভয় না পাই "বিপদে মোরে রক্ষা করো এ নহে মোর প্রার্থনা ...বিপদে যেন না করি ভয়।"

কখনো কবিতার কিছু লাইন লিখতে গিয়ে আমি যখন থমকে যাই, ভাবি কি করে উনি এক জীবনে এত এত কাব্যের রচনা করলেন। এ হেনো কোনো মুহূর্ত নেই যা রবীন্দ্র রচনা তে ব্যক্ত হয় নি। তাই জীবনের প্রত্যেক  মুহূর্তে যেন উনার লেখার মাধ্যমে উনার উপস্থিতি অনুভব করি । রবীন্দ্রনাথ  আমার ছোটবেলা থেকে বড় হয়ে ওঠার চিরিসখার সেই চিরসখা ই। 

mesta jelly/ mesta plant and Gongura

We used to have a Mesta tree in our garden of Gopinath Bari. One day I saw Thakurma(my grandmom) collecting the strange-looking buds/fruits from that tree. When enquired she said it is a wonder fruit and she is going to make jelly from that. One strange thing about the jelly she made from those buds is that she tempered it with Kalonjee seeds or something black. Though the purplish/mauve color of the jelly was very attractive, that seasoning was something that caught my attention. She said I can taste the leaves. The raw leaves even tasted delicious. So that was my first introduction with the Mesta tree. I have no idea what happened to that tree after my grandmom passed away as my mom and neither of my aunts has any interest in such out of the box stuff.#Mesta Jam #Mesta Jelly #Tangy juicy leaves #Indigenous plant#Sorrel Leaves #Roselle Jam #Roselle Jelly

After relocation to south India, I saw and ate many delicacies using 'Gongura leaves'. I love the south Indian daal with Gongura leaves which they call 'pappu'. The scientific name of the red-stemmed one is Hibiscus sabdariffa. In fact, I bought bunches of 'Gongura leaves from the market so many times for making that Pappu. # Gongura Dal #Gongura Biriyani

I never tried to relate both, as it never stuck my mind. I never could draw a link between a plant, whose leaves are used for making Pappu can be the same with the plant whose fruits are used for making jelly.

Last weekend my husband got a few bunches of Gongura leaves for making Biriyani. Out of curiosity to know its scientific name and English name I did some google search. I was so overjoyed to know this is the same Mesta that my Thakurma used to nurture in her garden. I realized that these are indigenous plants and adapted in different cuisines in different forms blended according to taste. The Tangy leaves for South India and the fruit buds for Bengal to satiate their sweet tooth. Well, I couldn't take pictures of the leaves as we already cooked them by the time I was done with my research.                                                                                                                                                   

 

I was so much thrilled that day while relishing the tangy, spicy Gongura Biriyani as if my mind was playing an orchestra by looking and creating long lost flavors in known food. 

'Bor esheche Birer chade' and 'Amader choto nodi chole anke banke

During my childhood days, we used to learn and recite the poetries of different poets. According to Ma, I was always an avid learner though I have enough doubt about my memorizing power. So much doubt that I bought some Brahmi tonic and nut powders for myself while I was preparing for GRE. When I was a little more than one year, she used to read to me all the short rhymes of both Bengali and English. I started talking clearly at the age of 10 months. So one day my aunt asked her why she spends so much time reading to me every day? So she instead asked me to recite and my aunt was surprised that I could recite most of the poems by heart.

Poems by Tagore were a part of Bengali culture and learning those at a very early age is always a must in our kind of houses. Raj Byabostha was one of the first poems I have byhearted and I used to enjoy reciting that.

Moharaja bhoye thake
publisher thanate
Ayin banay joto
pare na ta manate... I used to recite that looking at the sky/ceiling in a very serious tone!

Soon a cousin elder sister was about to get married. So my Grandma taught me another piece from Tagore to recite that in front of the groom. She asked me to recite that to him whenever I meet him first. I really couldn't get the metaphors of the poem at that age. In fact, later I realized that I learned and recited one word wrong throughout. Instead of 'Birer chad' I used to tell it 'Biyer chad'. Since there is 'Bor' which means the groom is Bengali and 'shyaali' meaning sister in law (brides sister), I thought that was reason enough to make it appropriate for the occasion.

Once learned something by heart.. it will always be imprinted in your mind. So was this poem:
Bor esheche Birer chade  - By Rabindranath Tagore
Bor esheche Birer chade
Biyer Logno atta ( 8 ta).
Petol-ata lati kandhe
galete galpatta.
Shyaalir shathe krome krome
slap jokhon uthlo jome
Raybeshe nach nacher jhoke
mathay marlo gatta.
Shoshur kande meyer shoke
Bor heshe koy-"Thatta"!

Later, I learned poems like 'Amader choro nodi chile anke bake' in class one, Talgach and so many others...poems were an important part of giving shape to our mental frame of imagination.
We used to get frequent load shading every day. In the summer, during evening load shading which used to be for more than one hour, we all used to sit in the courtyard lighting kerosine lamps /hurricane lamps. We used to sing, recite, dance...elders used to drink tea and 'muri chanachur'. Sometimes neighbors used to join us. Still, it seems to me like we used to stage some theatrical performance every day. There was no technology, entertainment used to drip from heart and soul. There was no lack of enjoyment and people used to enjoy each other's company.

The undeclared cultural program used to get over when power used to come back. We used to get back to studies with a satisfied heart.

Again another bengali new year knocking at the door............

Oh....today is chaitra sankranti and tomorrow NabaBarsha or poela boiskakh! or our Bengali new year! Which year it will be? Well for a person like me it really need not to stress my head to remember all such nity gritty  as I just search it and found out from Google. 1421 it will be from tomorrow!!!...............Actually for me those years, months hardly matters now. Almost for nothing do we follow those bengali dates. But what really matters is those sweet memories of celebrating all these special dates which we still live in. Week before Sankranti I could remember Grandma , ma and all others busy in washing and cleaning everything right from all the storage jar in the kitchen. They all used to be so busy. And the excitement used to continue by buying new clothes that we will wear to welcome the new year as if the new year will be noticing us for our dresses. The Day before chaitra Sankranti all the ladies used to get busy preparing sweets and cutting Raw Jackfruit for making 'kathaler Echor' a special bengali delicacy and then Raw mango Dal which are a must in the menu of Chaitra Sankranti. Well to keep those memory alive today I went out in the scorching heat of Hyderabad to see if I can get a little piece of Raw jack-fruit ( I was ready to take all the pain of removing all the sticky glue like enzymes and making it ready for the curry) but couldn't really find it anywhere. Well so for me today Raw mango dal is all there to satisfy my taste bud and sentiments from the memory!! I am missing every moments of those frying sweets in Dalda and the tempting smell. On Nababarsha, we used to touch feet of all the elders to take there blessings and used to visit all the shops and business centres to wish them good business for the coming year. They used to celebrate a ritual of worshiping Lord ganesha 'Godishite' if I could remember it correctly. They all used to give us boxes full of sweets. As it was impossible to eat in all the places, I used to collect all the boxes in a plastic packet and get them home. And later used to open and see and compare with my other cousins how much more or less sweets I have collected! So as I told, for me those moments really matter..........as I know I have left them far across and there is no way to get back there. Visiting Lakshmi Narayan temple in the morning can be replaced with some temple here...........but I cannot get that same smell, same feeling and same excitement in reality.........but only by walking down my memory lane. Still will like to celebrate it my way keeping the spirit alive and wishing all the elders over telephone........Welcome new year....Welcome 1421!!!

Ghosts in my dream and a Red Hand print in the wall

I don't know when I actually got introduced to ghosts or 'bhoot,petni'. Probably from the pictured epic of Ramayana for children or from the time my mother scared me telling that while eating food if it spills on my clothes and I don't change them I will definitely see ghosts in dreams. Sounding funny??? Well for the first time even I thought so. I thought she is playing a trick on me so that I eat carefully without spilling. But that night I dreamt of a horrible ghost and I still remember it. An ugly looking person with long curly hairs and sharp teethes dancing in front of the map of India and there was fire all around the border of the map.
It sounds funny and you won't be able to draw any correlation between a ghost and the Map of India. But that was my dreadful dream. I got so much scared that from that day I always eat carefully and till today carefully change my clothes in case of food spills.
I always used to stay away from any discussion on that topic and used to divert my mind with positive thoughts. I have seen something natural about being drawn towards positive while you get to know about the negative. I rather choose to believe that a positive aura will always sail our boat through anything negative.
I was forced to stay alone in my small rented flat in Bangalore when I was a student of masters. My roommate got her leg fractured and couldn't join me after the vacation. Initial few days I literally begged few friends to come and stay with me. They had all their important appointments and reasons to show a tantrum. I decided that I have to learn to be self-sufficient. So I started staying alone. I used to read Gita every day before going to bed and avoid discussing anything negative throughout the day even in college. In that span of 20 days, not even a single day I dreamt anything bad. Hence I became more confident that its all in our mind. We should always choose the bright over the dark and the +ve over the negative.
That was just the beginning. After marriage when I relocated to Hyderabad I had no idea about the extent of the summer heat of Hyderabad. Since there were possibilities of my husband getting relocated to Europe and I wanted to pursue research for at least a year, I chose a flat affordable enough to pay from my stipend of a Junior Research Fellow (there was nothing fancy about it). It was on the top floor with a long verandah adjoining the hall and a bathroom at the end of the Verandah. There was one more bathroom attached to the bedroom.
Before the onset of the summer, my husband went to Switzerland for a month. Few days after he left, the summer suddenly appeared and I have completely swept away with the extent of heat. I mostly started staying back in CCMB  labs the whole night and working throughout the night and used to come back home in the morning and sleep till afternoon. I used to eat my meals at CCMB. I never got time to look around the house. Atanu's stay got extended for 10 more days due to some volcanic ash ejection. So finally the day before his scheduled flight, I decided to clean the house, do some grocery and stay back home during the night. After all the cleaning and cooking when finally I went to bed, I found it literally impossible to sleep because of the dry heat. I came out and made a bed in the hall. Shifted the air cooler to that room ( I thought the circulation will be better as there was verandah all around. But still, I was feeling scorching heat as if the whole house is on fire...... It was already past midnight. I decided to splash water on the floor as that might cool down the room. So to get the water, instead of going to the inside bathroom I went to the bathroom outside. I kept the bucket under the tap and after putting the tap on, I felt a little relaxed with the cold water touching my feet. I was just moving out with the filled bucket that suddenly a small plastic mirror attached to the pin in the wall fall down. It was framed with plastic all around. I took it keeping the bucket in the side and placed it back to the position and suddenly my eyes went to a red handprint on the wall. A feeling of chill ran down my spines and I immediately ran to the hall with the bucket. I shut the door and started reasoning my mind. I was scared to the core and have no other option but to control myself. I just lay down in front of the cooler and was praying to god. I don't remember when I finally fall asleep.
My husband was supposed to reach home by 6 A.M. When I woke up, I checked the watch ( I never ever take off my watch except while taking shower) and it was already 7:30 A.M. Yesterday's memory was out of my mind and I started wondering if the flight is late. Still, I decided to go and check outside. I opened the door and I saw him sitting on the stairs. He said after knocking the door constantly for half an hour he had no other option but to wait outside and wait for me to get up. I usually have a very light sleep. But probably because of the sudden fear and anxiety I slept like a dead ( being in the hall also I couldn't hear all those knocks). I was really happy that he was back.
After having breakfast I gathered all the courage and asked him if there is any red handprint in the outside bathroom. He said that he has seen it there as it was there from before. But he too found that incident of mirror falling down a bit strange as no wind was blowing at that time( even with the wind blowing, the probability of that moving the mirror is very less)!!
I never dared to go to that bathroom again during our stay in that house even after though there was no precise proof of abnormal activity other than that afterward.

I know where the sun resides

Who knew then that the sun and the moon whom I see everyday, whom I refer to as mama (meaning maternal uncle in bengali) are actually so distant habitat. At least I never knew it then as a 3 years old. The Ramnaar road no 4 road has a end from where it bifurcates into lane which are lying perpendicularly to the main road. And at that junction where all the three lanes are meeting there used to be a Mosque. So if I used to look at the left hand side standing in front of our gate I used to see the Mosque which was about 0.5km away. Every evening I used to observe that the sun used to go and hide behind the Mosque. So the genius in me assumed that the Sun must be staying somewhere behind the Mosque.
I requested my mom several time to please take me to Sun's home once. Every time she used to tell that she will take me later. So one day I decided I can't wait anymore and started preparing for the visit. One day the opportunity came as I found my mother occupied with some cooking in the kitchen. Slowly I came out of the house and started walking towards the sun. That was evening and the sun was about to set. Few of my neighbor saw me walking alone in the street and immediately stopped me. They forcibly brought me home and told my mother everything.
Being terribly upset I kept on crying for my failed mission. Later one evening my mother took me to that area. By the time we reached it was already late evening and the sun was already set. So I keep on roaming fromone lane to another forcing my mother to come along in search of the suns house.I came back home bing upset that I could not identify the Sun's house.
It was only later when I got to know about rotation and revolution I realised  how stupid I was!!   

Aari aari aaari

'Aari ari aari,
kalke jabo bari,
porshu jabo ghar,

hanumaan er leje dhore

tanatani kor,

ek ghoti jaal ene
durga puja kor...'
Sorry, really can't recollect any more!!!! And the lines too also might have got interchanged. Pardon me for such a bad memory!! Find it difficult even to believe that it used to be such a big integral ritual of my childhood days. So many times everyday I must have got upset with friends and siblings and everytime broken my ties of friendship with them showing my little finger and by default uttering these lines.Now I find it so funny. But at that point of time it used to be so emotional breakup. Only good part was that ari was never permanent. In good time we used to heal the broken ties by touching each others thumb and uttering 'BHAB'. Just one short, simple word was enough powerful to make it up for everything.Strange right!
Probably all war, quarrels and everything bad are longer procedure....but everything good is always short and precise.
Another good part about this 'Ari' and 'Bhab' was that we never used to keep anything inside our heart. Then e used to be open. But now how many of us really have the guts to utter those words again??
Well to tell you frankly, I still do!! But not always and not with everybody.

Bulbul pakhi moyna tiye

'Bulbul pakhi moyna tiye,aeyna jana gaan shuniye......dudhbhat debo sondesh makhiye'-Antara Choudhury. I still get fascinated by this song. I got an audio cassette of this song gifted to me on my 6th birthday. That was the first time I made friendship with this singer.Almost all the songs she sang sits with the imagination a children can think about....I loved it. Till today whenever I listen to these songs I feel well I am again knocking in my childhood's door.
Actually songs are n integral part of our life. It make us smile,dream,laugh and cry. It can directly connect to our heart.

Horek mal 3 taka...ar dugdugi bajiye sonpapdi

Horekmaaaal!!!!....Horekmaaal!!!!.....used to be a basket full of delight. A person carrying a 'tukri' or a big cane basket carrying on his head with all sorts of small to big articles like small colorful toys, cups, saucers, small bowls, strainers, playing cards, hair clips, hair band and etc, each costing 3 rupees then, is what we used to call Horekmal. Today it feels like as if that was a miniature china bazaar inside a basket. The best part was that everything used to be of the same price. We used to feel thrilled to look inside that basket and used to wait eagerly whenever they pass by. Though everyday afternoon they will definitely pass by calling out 'harekmaal 3 taka' but not everyday will the elders of the house allow them inside the house. So we used to wait eagerly for such days when my mother or grandmother will have some plan of small shopping and call them inside. Gradually from horekmaal 3 taka, it became horekmal 5 taka. Now today,I wont even wonder if they tell each costs 15/20 rupees. But surprisingly nowadays whenever I go home for a vcation I dont hear Horekmal any more. It might be due to inflation they are unable to cope up with the investment or people find it difficult to buy such small things with such big prices. As horekmal of Rs3/Rs5, each used to be really sweet. I MISS U HOREKMAAL!!!!

Another winter delight was sonpapdi....soft sugar candies. The person used to keep them in a glass box kept around the neck and on one hand he used to have the dugdugi .Dugdugi onomatopoeic name for percussion instrument shaped like an hourglass, with both ends covered with goatskin. A string with two small lead or iron balls is fastened around the narrow waist of the dugdugi. When the instrument is moved rapidly in one hand, the small balls hit the skin, making sounds like dugdug-dug dugdug dug. The dugdugi is also known as damvaru or damaru(*) and in the other he used to hold colorful packets of pink-colored sugar candies. We used to hear that tempting sound of dugdugi and start pleading to elders to give us money for buying sonpapdis. Each sonpapdi used to cost 50p in our time. They used to be round in shape and creamish white color and used to melt as soon as we put them inside our mouth. I think today Sonpapdi costing a huge which are available in famous sweet shops like Haldiram and etc also can't beat that taste.

SOURCE FOR THE COMPLETE MEANING:
(*)-.http://www.banglapedia.org/httpdocs/HT/D_0302.HTM

Ramnagar 4 no H/s school (Madrasha school)

, One Prominent feature about Ramnagar Road no 4 is its two schools. The second thing is its broad lane compared to other lanes of Ramnagar. Just as you enter through Sankar Chowmuni and you cross the first crossing, there is a well famous girls school called Vani Bidyapith H/s Girls school. That my home is near to that school obviously used to make my home more attractive to all my friends (boys of course) of my school. And that school is, of course, significant to me since that was the center or my Madhyamik(10th final) exam. One more reason is that Ninipishi, my 3rd pishi(sister of my dad) was a teacher of that school.
Well and about the second school, as we move farther down the lane after the 3rd crossing comes the next school i.e, Madrasha school. Though a long time back it got adopted by the government and it became Ramnagar 4 no H/s boys school, but still, to me, it is the same Madrasha school. Though this is not a very famous school still many people from my family studied their initial 1 year in this school. Moreover, when I was small, I have a fascination with studying in that school. There is a sweet incident related to that. I was around two years old then and used to tell my mother that I want to study at Madrasha School. So one fine day, when she went to take a shower and others in the family, was busy, I took the chance of taking a walk towards my dream. Barefooted and dressed in some banyan I took my small suitcase made of tin having all my rhyme books and crayons in my one hand and a plastic bat and ball in the other and started walking towards the school. An aunt in my neighbor of the opposite house ( Shupti Pishi of Durga Bhavan) saw me on the road and asked me where I am going. It seems I replied confidently to her that I am going to School. Without disturbing my mood she immediately informed my family and they all came running after me. They took me to the school and asked the Headmistress there if I can be admitted. But the headmistress told me still I am too small for the school.
So later they put me into a nursery school of Ramnagar Road no 4 called Shishu Mahal. I dint liked that school somehow and used to make a lot of fuss about going to school. Then after few months in another nursery school called Montessori School of Maya Aunty, I got selected in the admission of my alma-mater Shishu Bihar H/s School where I studied for the next 15 years of my life. 

Ulto diker Durga Bhavan er Gyan Babu ar Rajmohanda

Considering life to be a real stage drama, there are always some special characters whose memories are always    cherished even though they might not be intriguingly related with our life. In my early budding years such was the role played by Gyanbabu or gyandadu of Durga bhabhan (the house which is just oppposite to our house. He was a balled old person with  a very serious look. Probably he used to give lectures to everybody and that is why he was named as gyan babu)), Saraswatir Ma ( This lady brought up her daughter 'Saraswati'by selling milk in the locality. Later got her married also. But her husband left her and so she came back to Ramnagar to stay with her mom. She was a primary school teacher but still they had those cows then), Kuttir ma and Joyer ma dida (my grand moms friends), shibupaul dadu (Joy uncle's dad and definitely a versatile personality of that time. He used to paint, do gardening and had an awesome bungalow. He used to get his grand daughter tushididi along so that I can play with her). And those dida's used to come to meet my thakurma and sometimes read along ,Ramayana,mahabharata or manasaangal. Well I must ofcourse mention Rajmohan da!! My grand mom used to appoint him for mansion work on daily basis for putting fence around garden, for harvesting coconuts beetle nuts and e.t.c. I especially usedto like the way he used to puff is Bidi and take sip on the tea that used to served to him in some old glass. From the plate they used to transfer the whole puffed rice (muri) into a special sack made out of the towel they used to wear. There was another lady who used to come once in a while to beg money from Thakurma. Thakurma used to call her 'kalishiddhya' and somehow she used to look very scary. As soon I used to hear her voice I used to ran away and hide besides Thakurmas bed. Today most of them passed   away. I dont even have any picture of them. Inspite they are alive in my memory and just as lively as I can see any of my friends now.  

Grahan...........the eclipse

Solar or lunar eclipse.....Grahan used to create a thrilling effect and fantacy in our mind. It was mainly because there were demons named Rahu and Ketu involved in the story.

In Hindu astrology Rahu and Ketu are known as two invisible planets. They swallow the Sun or the Moon causing either a solar or a lunar eclipse. So this whole story used to thrill us. And the rules was that nobody used to keep any uncovered food as then Rahu Ketu will come and eat that. So on the day of eclipse, we all used to have our supper early and the utensils used to get cleaned much before th eclipse starts. People used to chant the name of god so that they save us from the demons. The whole day used to thrilling that now RAHU KETU is getting ready to eat the SUN or the MOON. We used to have some vacant space in between our kitchen and living rooms in my ancestral house. Considering RAHU KETU should see us we never used to come out of the room only,during the grahan. Every body used to be inside the house waiting for the time when the eclipse will get over.

But as we started growing up, we started realising that , that was just a mythological representation of the actual scietific fact. But today I really miss those thrill and wonder I used o have as a child.

Kheerer Sandesh and naru

There used to be one aluminium stove and one copper vessel that my thakurma used to call 'mailsha'.

Whenever thakurma used to get them ready means she will be making some sandesh. Either for Gopinath or for sending to my uncles or some occasion must be approaching. I ate so any kheerer sandesh then and now. But none is upto the one made by my Thakurma taste wise and look wise.

I was lucky enough to learn that special art of making sandesh. Once the dough made by thikennin milk and sugar in right proportion gets ready (it should not be too hard nor to soft) , we used to rub ghee in those casettes with different designs (made up of stone or special mud and burnt to give a dark texture) which she have collected since ages. Then taking small amount of tat dough we used to made a thin layer over the cassette that is called 'Shaj or shach' making a bit thicker layer around the edges and thin in the middle so that it sets the pattern properly into it. And before that gets too hard, we need to take that of the shaaj slowly so that it remains intact. My Favourite sandesh among all were one oval one with 'Bhalobasha' in bengali written over it, another flower pattern that we call Kolka, another half moon shaped one and few small flowers that I mostly used to use as a beginer.

She used to tell the dough should look creamy in color rather the reddish one. I still miss those like anything.

nailya patar ghido, shimer bichir dal, loti chocchoori...mukhi.

Strange names to those who never heard of them, but mouth-watering delicacies for those who have the same taste buds like mine. Nailya pata ba pat path is leaves from plants grown very commonly in Bengali households. The body of the plants is used for doing Yagna ( holy fire during different puja's). Those of us who are rooted originally in Bangladesh have lots of recipes using different leaves from different plants. Nailya Patar ghido/ geero was a special recipe made by my thakurma. She used to knot a few clean leaves together ( a great task of patience). after doing several, she used to boil them in mustard paste and add dried seeds of jackfruit to that. It was just amazing and Yummy!! The mixture of bitter and tangy effect...wow.and even when those leaves are dipped in pice and turmeric paste and deep-fried it taste great with warm rice. Shimer bichir dal..difficult to take out all the seeds from each shim. and after gathering all of them ( say around half kg), grandma used to roast them and then boil them. After they are soft yet intact she used to season it with brinjal fry and ghee. Loti chocchori, mukhi..all are similarly appealing. In Bengali, there is a proverb that there is gold in the soil. But that gold is nothing, but the fact that the soil itself is so fertile that it gives wonderful crops for any seed sown inside it. Plenty of rain is anyways offered by nature.

I sometimes wonder people get Nobel prize for so many this and that..but why there are no such big awards for the discovery of great recipes with great nutritional value. If there were something like this then there would have been an award showcased for almost all Grandma's like mine. With almost no infrastructure, no equipment, no gadgets, and least ingredients they used to cook some wonderful delicacies..everything homemade and garden-fresh. Trust me, they taste even better then food from a five-star hotel worth a thousand dollars.

mach niye gelo chile

Fish!! It is the sign of prosperity and good luck for we east Indians. We even have to carry a big fish when the groom goes to the brides house for getting married. And a bride is judged for her skll by how expert she is in scaling and cutting a fish after she comes to the new house after her marriage.The word itself bring back so many related memories. Right from my childhood I have seen how fishermans used to catch fishes from our pond. Above that my dad is an expert of fishing using fish rod which we call 'borshi'. He used to take out some old bread from fridge, soak it and convert that into dough, mix ant eggs and etc to make it more delicious and catchy for fishes and then used to use that as a trap. I have seen my dad catching 'telapia' fish with his hand while swimming. And not only catching fishes, he loves feeding people with good sumtous meal having different fish preparations.
So every evening that was his favourite passtime to fish for sometime. Even I used to go and sit beside him and observe his fondness and dedication towards this game. I have heard from thakurma that when our economic condition was not very good, and if we used to get surprise guests like my pishos ( husbad of my father's sisters), thakurma used to go to the pond and keep a fishing rod or used to ask my dad to catch a fish and she used to make a feast for the guest with those fishes. I heard from my grandmother that fishing was his passion right from his childhood. When he was very young, he used to spend afternoons catching fishes. It seems once it happened so that while catching fishes with a rod, the sharp iron hook attached to the thread got fixed in the skin of his head. And while trying to take it out, it got fixed making the whole thing worse. So the only way remaining to take it out was to cut it. So he came to boro jethu and boro jethu ( fully nervouse and tensed looking at the blood flowing out of his head) took him to the doctor. While the doctor was about to operate it out, to everybodies surprise he told the doctor, to take out the hook intact so that he can use that again . He also assured the doctor that for that if he get more hurt it is not a problem and he is ready to bear that.
Sometimes, when baba used to call fihserman to catch fishes, it used to be real fun. There were different techniques for that. One was by using small nets and trap around 10-12 fishes out of which one or two used t be big. But the other type was by using a special net called 'bera Jal' that used to almost cover the whole pond and thats why huge number of fishes used to get trapped. I used to spend the whole morning watching the whole activity and enjoying every moment about that. specially the small mishes that used to get caught along with big fishes and the shells were my main object of interest. Those sells which I learnt during my graduation , called unio were used to feed the ducks we used to have as pet then in our house.

Hmm, to this I remember, even I used to love the ducks house that used to be there in our house. feeding the ducks, making there room with Hays to keep it warm, putting them in there house every evening, checking early in the morning if egg is there was fact of curiosity for me.And believe me the taste of those duck eggs were just amazing.

There were some rules in our house like to make children's healthy, we were served with fishes like 'magur' and 'singh' macher jhol. Those anaerobic fishes have loads of bloods and hence are very healthy. Since I was not very healthy in my childhood my diet mostly used to include those fishes.

Still now we have the pond as it is in gopinath's house but the duck house is not there. baba still take some out almost every evening to take a stroll to that house and spend some time catching fishes. Even though I am far away, I can visualize every moment of it.

eksho bar korbo, hazar bar korbo!!

Can you guess what I want to do by screaming out "eksho bar korbo, hazar baar korbo", which means " will do it hundred times , will do it thousand times"!!!The funny part is that till date I don't know what we wanted to do! I have already mentioned about tutudadu or Hiralal Chakroborty who was our next door neighbour and Sonama's uncle as well. My mom and dad used to call him 'Mejda' and thakurma used to call him 'kanu'. He was a very jolly person and more the just a neighbour. We used to play with him, and visit his quite a few time a day when we are together. Sometimes we used to have music adda's or just adda's in his house. He even used to enjoy cooking a lot. So all of a sudden I think we did some meschief and he scolded us. Just to irritate him we started telling eksho baar korbo, hazar baar korbo..and he became angry and pretended to chase us. So from then on, whenever we used to see tutudadu, we just used to tell eksho bar korbo, hazar baar korbo and he used pretend as if he is chasing us. The thrill, the escape..everything was just great.

There was another game that we used to play frequently. 'ami ja dekhi, tumi ta dekho'? and 'name, place,animal...'.All these might funny but those were what we used to wait eagerly for throughout the year so that we can play them when Dadabhai and boney dada comes during there long vacation. Right from the time I remember, jethu ( Debu) was posted in a place called Shapotgram in assam, then Guahati, Shilchar and finally he was in Shillong when we were already grown up.

Jethu used to be the jackpot of all games. He always used to thrill us with his new ideas of new games. When power used to go off, we all used to sit in the courtyard of Gopinath bari with a Hurican litted in the front Varandah in front of Gopinath Ghor. We used to do recitations and sing songs. I still remember few lines of 'Maharaja bhoye thake poolish er thanate, ain banae joto pare na ta manate, take take chore chore sadho jodi chara thake, rokhha korite tare rakhe jail khanate. ' Boe esheche Biyer chade' was again my favourite. But I really used to admire dadabhai reciting 'Birpurush'. He used to get into the peom and I used to feel the charm of 'tumi jachho palki te Ma chore!'...We all used to sing 'Klanti amar khoma koro prabhu'. Then I never knew what is klanti at all. But while doing my masters in college, I really used to get fed up of endless examintions, submission of assignmets , tensions of scoring high, college politics...I just used to sit alone, being tired of the situation and used to sing that song from the depth of my heart. I really used to apologise to God to forgive me for all those tirdness.

I still remember everyting boron jethu or jethun after coming to agartala used to go to there maternal uncles house , fulda jethu, ranga jethu and manju jethu's house in Ramnagar road number 9. There again it was real fine to get pampered by everybody. What was a routine snack served to us there was grated milky tender coconut, with deep fried 'chira' and sprinkle of sugar on that. That just taste yummy with hot tea. We all use to go to Misti pishi and Nini pishi's house at Krishnanagar. All those were some routine activities that we always used to do with other activites like taking bath in the pond, roaming around the pond side, picking up flower for Puja ini the moring and e.t.c.

I still remember one incident. One day me and Boney dada just entered home after playing around in the locality. Boney dada used to love home made curd with lots of sugar in it. So though basically I never used to like that, but still used to have that along with him always. That day 'thakurma scream out our name and told she has kept two 'patil' full of curd in her kitchen. Both of us ran towards that immediately. And immediately looking at those boney dada understod what is wrong. But Like a fool inspite of stopped by him I put that in my mouth. That was nothing but 'chun'. I started crying immediately and I understood what I did was really foolish.

Those were really amazing, carefree days which are never going to come back in the same form. I miss those days.

Tei ka tei

My mom wanted to see all her childhood wishes getting fulfilled by me. It seems it was her wish to learn singing and dance. But due to different reasons all those could not happen. As well one of her big dream was that her daughter should study in Shishu bihar school. So the first one took shape as soon I cleared the admissiono test of nursery. To her the others were also not that tough as she put me to a dance school and my cousin mani didi became my music teacher. And she also appointed a lady to teach me paintings. Little did she knew that to appoint teacher is not the end of everything. The most difficult job was to manage her own little daughter who was according to her dad ' nonir putul lotor potor'. I mean even if anybody used to touch me without my wish, I used to start crying. I was so moody that, if anybody used to take my pillow and it used to get warm by touch, I used to start crying ' gororm kore niyecho, thanda kore deo'. So whenever I used to feel, it is not very interesting for the day to go to the dance class, which was in our neighbour only, I used to go and complain thakurma, that my legs are paining ans still ma is asking me to go for dance classes. And if further Ma used to force me to go there, thakurma used to scold Ma.
I specially used to hate all those classes when Dadabhai and Boney dada, Sona all used to come to agartala for there vacations. I still remember, when boney dada used to come, once in a while we both used to steal money from thakurma's bag ( and ofcourse we used to tell everything to het later) which used be there in one korner of thakurrma's alna in the store room. The amount we scold never used to exceed one or two rupees. We used to start planning right from the noon, and we used to get our operation done before evening. Then evening we used to eagerly wait when amulya kaku will open his shop. That tong dokan in the corner of ramnagar, was nothing less then a place of delight. the sight of the jars full of orange chocolates, melody chocolate, poppins, chatpat, hajmola, packets of maggie what not. I used to dream what more one can dream in life if one get all those inside the shop together for oneself as a gift.
So one day we stole or got money from somebody and as usual I started telling ma I will bunk my dance class that day. But somehow she managed to send me for the class. Now what she din't noticed is that Boney dada also followed me for the class and he hide himself somewhere there itself in the dance school. That day while dancing I was facing the window and my teacher, Ajanta aunty was sitting keeping her back to that window. She was teaching me a typical bharat natyam dance called 'tei ka tei'. During the first 'tei' u have to move your hand inwards moving your hand nine degree down fromthe axis if you keep your fore arm straight folded towards your shoulder, during 'ka' it will make an angle of 180 degree and go outside and during the last 'tei' you will have to again move the hand inwards with a reverse 180 degree angle. the legs will have movemnet accordingle. So now comming to the funniest part, that day, as soon I started practising the dance, boney dada stood behind the window and he was showing me that one rupee note. I felt like taking that and I was streching my hands towards the window instead of moving it on the sides. Ajanta aunty could not understand what is happening as it is impossible to make same mistake repeatedly. And everytime she was looking outside , Boney dada was hiding himself sitting below the window level. Atlast she started scolding me and might be boney dada felt bad and he screamed, Dona dont worry, i wont use the money without you and he came back home. To my much reliefe Ajanta aunty understood what happened and I started practicing with a free mind. Though I attenede those classes not for long, but I still remember, I really picked up dance with one song very nicely..'sheether hawae laglo nachon amloki roi dale dale'. I continued with music classes till mani didi got married and then all of a sudden somebody inculcated in my mom's head that it is important to learn classical. So she forced me to join a classical class. Due to my heavy voice and lazy nature to practise and take my voice to those curves wha really a difficult task for me. I wrot and cleared several years until finally one day she really gave up forcing me further., But I really used to enjoy and still enjoy singing Rabindra sangeet, though I pick them up listening to songs and I enjoy singing them. I dont know if at all what i sing is at all audible or not, but it is true I enjoy singing atleast for my own delight. And I really enjoy when Anka is around as we both have some common numbers that we like to sing together like ' ei monihar amay nahi shaaaaje', ' tomar khola hawae' and Kusume kusume charan chinho diye jao, seshe daao dao muche, ohe choncholoooo, bela na jete, khela keno tobo jae ghuche..haeeeee'.
And among all the three what I thoroughly enjoyed was my drawing classes. As I was lucky enough to get an ofbeat teacher. My early days of painting started with pencil sketches..just drawing perfect circles and straight lines. Slowly towards pencil figures based on those shapes. With time and year I became the favourite student of my art er aunty , 'Reena Aunty'. She even became a tenant of our gopinath bari. She used to call me 'Dunny'. With time I even started dreaming of making art my passion and to become an artist. I used to draw whole day, sittingin class, home everywhere. I hardly used to draw with colours and I myself could observe the maturity in my paintings based on shades and everything. My mom always used to repent that inspite of learning art for almost 10 to 11 years I don have certification. But ma, the prizes that I have won wherever I have participated till date( I hardly used to participate in compitetions in school) , the way I have got introduced to how to use right colour in right form, every nitty griity of painting..I a really thankfull to ma for taking me to Reena aunty instead of any general art school. And thanks to 'Reena aunty ' as well for teaching art to me with passion and so much of care. I still miss those sunday classes and long chat while making sketeches. That too in the room in the back side of gopinath bari....

Dudher chachhi khaa sorger nagal pa

Dudh is a terrible word for most of the children. I was not an exception, and as usual forcing yourself to drink a HUGE glass full of milk, twice a day used to be a common torture for me. Right from my childhood I used to hate drinking milk and especially used puke it out immediately if the cream has not been removed completely. But one thing I surely used to enjoy is to take the milk from Saraswati Pishi who used to own a cow in our locality. She or her mom, Saraswati'r ma used to get the milk in a copper glass or sometime in a aluminium measuring can with a handle. pachsher, or adha litre, ek pa those were some terms used by them. And sometime when she used to get late I used to go to there house with some elders and she used to milk the cow. That milk used to worm. And everything related to those cows, there rooms were a amtter of delight for me.

Something I used to do without anybodies notice is to take milk in two small gasses and pou them together to unite. I used to think doing so will turn them into CADBARY chocolate as it used to come in the advertisement of dairy Milk chocolate.

And something I really used to enjoy is when thakurma used to make sondesh after thikenning and tightening the milk in the copper kadai ( malsha). Right from chilhood she made me an expert to pull out sandesh using saj ( stone blockes of diferent designs). The smell just used to be yummy..and in that form I think milk is also Yummy.

Chana or cottage cheese, that is another way I used to get tortured with. Ma and thakurma used to tell Baba is so strong because dadubhai used to feed him with a spoonfull of chana every evening. But I used to hate the smell. specially once when I caught Jaundice, ma replaced my glass of milk with chana.

But I still remember, that Ma and Rangama used to steal milk from thakurma's ranna ghor and sometimes batasha from thakurghor and have there great treat in afternoons. It seems I used to complain thakurma bout those as I used to keep an eye on everything and keep thakurma informed about everything going around.

The quality of that milk was gradually degrading. So finally didibhai ( sonama's ma) was al set give away her cow. and baba asked one of his worker Subhas kaku to take incharge of that. only he need to do is to give us a litre or so of nice pure milk and he can do anything with the rest. So we really enjoyed nice pure milk for sometime, but I really used to hate drinking that every evening. BUt what to do..dudher chachhi kha..sarger nagal pa..means if you drink milk, you can grow so tall that u will be able to touch heaven..and everybody dreams to be like that!!!

I really laugh at myself when I look back at those sweet milky days..after all the colour of my dreams were also white the..clouded with white wonders.

Bashanta panchami and Hatekori

"Nama Sharada, Nama Sharada, Nama Sharada mata- Ma Veena Pustaka dharini- Ma Vidya gyana pradayini, Bhava banjani, manoranjani..gyana pradayini ma. ....Brahma sanatani ma.."

'Bashanta panchami' or 'Sree panchami' is the day of worship for the deity of learning Godesses Saraswati. It is festival for students and those involved in the world of knowledge, art, eloquence e.t.c. It is celebrated almost in all the houses as well as schools. For me that used to be double retreat. First of course because it was a festival and holds excitement. Second because on that day officially we were not allowed to study since we used to keep our books in front of the deity so that she can shower all her blessings on them. We used to fast whole day and used to break out fast only after offering pushpanjali to Devi Saraswati. There are some special chants that I still do recite for describing teh beauty of saraswat and to offer her prayers-" Jaya jaya devi, Chorachoro Share, kuchojugo shovita, moni mukta hare. Bina ronjito Pustaka hashte, Bhagabati, Bharati Devi namastute." The pranam mantra was like this-" Saraswati mahabhabe, Bidya, komololochane, Bishwarupe, Vishalakshmi, Bidyang dehi, Namastute." I remmber one more that I was asked to recite every time before starting with studies-" Saraswati Nomostavyam, borode kama rupini. Bidya arombhomkaraswamy, siddhi bhabatu meshwada".

When I was small , I used to go to Durga chowmuni bazar on the eve of Saraswati puja along with baba or bishum ( a place very nearby) to choose and buy the idol of saraswati and do other shoppings as well. That used to be something, that used to really excite me. There were certain things related to saraswati puja like polash fool, gada fool, amer mookool( mango buds),kul and boroi ( berry). On the day of the ouja I used to get up early, take shower after applying a paste of turmeric and neem that thakurma used to make in the haman dista. then after shower I used to help elders in preparing for the puja and used to wait eagerly for the preist. We used to stand in our gate to observe small guys and guls going to the schools in our neighbour wearing sarees. After Puja we used to eat those mango buds ( bashanta manjari- it was believed if you have this on that day immersed in chandan, it will keep away all seasonal diseases away) and prasad. Then just like others used to go to school. Everybody used to wear saree on that specially of bashanti rang or yellow colour. When I was small I used to wear saree too. But later I stopped wearing that as I used to feel shy and only again when I was in 10th standard I started wearing that. Evening We used to go to mamar bari in bhatta pukur. That day I used to wear TV for long, watch movies as there was no studies officially that day. Next day Ma used to wake me up early in the morning and We used to write the name of Saraswat"shree shree saraswati devi nama namaha" for several times in a banana leaf with milk using a shoot of jute 'doat'. And then we used to float that leaf in the pond after touching that in Saraswati's feet and then used to take her blessing and books kept at het feet and start studying for another year with lots of new hopes that probably this year she have blessed me enough so that I can top even with minimum effort.
One of the tradition of our house is to give 'Hatekori' to a child before he actually starts with his studies. Hatekori is to do a Saraswati Puja especially praying to make the child knowledgable and then to make the child write for the first time on a stone plate in front of god( Gopinatha and all). Previously the ideal age of a child for becoming eligible for the occasion used to be 5 years. But now since, we start our education much before that, the age comes down or mostly that is not the first time a child writes.

For me that was exactly at the age of five. Thakurma always used to tell me that I will have my Hatekori. On the day of the Hatekori, everything was ready. Kanudada started with the Puja write from the morning. Even pishi's and all came down. I still remember I was wearing a white new frock on that day. So though that was not for the first time wrote, but still I got to know that I am being formally eligible for studies.

Later I saw my other siblings also getting there hatekori just like that.........