Oh! Calcutta

We went out for dinner to Oh Calcutta. The husband, following his low fat, low salt diet didn't have much of a choice. He had to satisfy himself with yummy fishes and green salad. The brother in law and me feasted on 'luchi' and 'kosha mangsho'...all those who love bong food, would immediately sense the pleasure that we had. The only sore point-- the husband didnot realize that they had already charged us Rs. 400 as service charges. Since he was in a generous mood, he tipped the boys an additional Rs. 350. We ended up spending Rs. 750 just on service charges and another 400 on VAT and other taxes...oops! that was indeed a lot of money.... Otherwise, it was a very enjoyable evening. Oh Calcutta at Tardeo is delicious and much better than the one in Andheri...drop in if you have a taste for the flavours of Bengal

To Kuheli

Kuheli called after ages. We had a heart-to-heart talk. It’s amazing when we are talking how we manage to bridge all the lost time. It was as if we were continuing the thread of our conversation from yesterday.

I see a reflection of my life mirrored in hers. It’s surprising how we go through the same milestones and obstacles in our daily existence. We even share the same wedding day. To both of us, who have managed to complete three years of glorious married lives.

Here’s to you, Kuheli and myself and our respective spouses. Wish you a very happy wedding anniversary.

Trivia

The husband and I had an argument over the new President of the United States today morning (as if there wasn’t anything more important closer home). The husband felt that there was too much noise around the swearing in this time around. According to him, while it is really commendable for an Afro-American to occupy the highest post of office in the US of A, the man should be measured only by the performance that he brings to the table.

All the noise around the person, according to him is unjustified, unless he is given enough time to prove his mettle. He feels that empty words and being glib is just not enough, unless he can fructify all that he has promised. If for some reason, his action doesn’t measure up to his words, all the noise that surrounds him, and the frenzy that he is associated with today, will become so much more painful.

However, I am all swept by the charisma of the person, the wiry frame, the enigmatic smile and the vibrancy and exuberance that he exudes. I am completely bought by his glib, his recounting of his personal life, his family persona , his everyday normal guy attitude and images of him swaying to music (have we seen any other President clapping and swaying to music before??)

I guess this is the basic difference between the man and the wife. While the husband is all practical and will measure a person only by his actions, the emotional, gullible fool in me will be easily swept by anything charismatic and pleasant to the eye.

In a completely different note, I was wondering, if being glib and a good public speaker was the only criteria to become a successful mass leader. Who would then qualify for the post in India?

My choice was Farhan Akhtar, to which the husband totally freaked out. He felt that even if we did agree with my misplaced logic and superficial qualifiers, Vinod Dua would be a much better choice. (Sometimes, I wonder how two people could be so different and still be man and wife)

We also disagreed about the need to be wiry to be a charismatic person. According to me, you need to have a lean and athletic body to exude energy and confidence (oh, how perverse I can be….), while to him, body weight is irrelevant in the scheme of things. As a justification, he cited the example of Winston Churchill, whom he feels was one of the most charismatic leaders in modern history.

Guess, ours is a match of two different personalities trying to lead a life together…the husband says we are like the chalk and cheese…I am happy to assume that I am the cheese here J.

Legacy...

First love letter—Wrote my first love letter to Roberto Baggio, when I was all of 8 years. The letter was written in hindi, as a part of my third language assignment in the fourth standard.

Cricket aspirations: Was to become Mrs. Mohd. Azharuddin—found him very handsome (yaks!!!!!) at that age. Fall back option was Ajay Jadeja in case things did not go as planned with Azhar.

Movie Connections: As in all girls school, I had my fair share of followers. I distinctly remember some school kids comparing me to the hero of Maine Pyar Kya (hero, ay?? )

Sainthood dreams: Every time I was rebuked, I wrote a letter to Mother Teresa wanting to be a nun. I must have written more than 15000 letters to her. (yeah, you got it right-- I wasn’t exactly the model child and had enough reasons to be scolded)

Altruistic tendencies: Hated regular food. The brother and I got a good spanking from the parents when in the absence of elders, we invited a ragged beggar, made him sit at our dining table and fed him our food at the age of 10-11. Thankfully, the beggar was no crook or else God save us.

First real ambition: Was to become a maid, a house help, so that I would be allowed to wash utensils at home and avoid the grill of student life.

First Real Crush: Oh..so many. Anyone who had a good voice and was a good orator, I was immediately floored. So many heart breaks I must have suffered.

The list continues…. more on this later. Stay connected.

My Bong Roots

Mr. X and Y were busy discussing a lady and her eccentricities, without heeding that there were others in the vicinity. Slightly perturbed by the nonsense banter, I tried my best to engage myself in whatever I was doing. And even with the most honorable intentions of not overhearing the conversation, my ears picked up a few lines which antagonized me endlessly.

Here is how the conversation goes:

Mr. X: Y, did you know I had just called up Mrs. C

Mr. Y: Is it? So, what happened?

Mr. X: Oh, don’t ask. As soon as I greeted her, she replied ‘Don’t call me Mrs. C. I am Ms. C’

Mr. Y: Ha!Ha! You need to be careful with these Bong women. They are very dangerous.

Now, if you were me and you belonged to the same community, how would you have reacted? It is not a question of whether I am Bengali, Gujrati or Marathi or from some god forsaken island community in the middle of nowhere. It is about, who gives right to other individuals to make fun of anyone else.

Read further and you will notice how far these ‘so called sophisticated’ men can go.

Yours truly: I am shocked and take grave offense. Y, how dare you speak like that when I am around?

Mr. Y: Hey, but you are not a bong; you don’t look and behave like a Bengali at all. You, surely, are from some other part of the country.

My Bengali roots boiled at that statement. Why do people typecast a community a certain kind? Even with all the progress that we have made and the potpourri of cultures that we exist in, it is shocking to hear comments like that. More frustrating are the assumptions that I would be overjoyed to be bracketed in a group who did not belong to Bengal.

I was at a loss to explain the psyche of such people. Who are ‘they’ in the reality of today—are they representative of the mass or are they in the minority? Are they some insecured bunch of commoners who could only mouth the stereotypical reactions or are they radicals who truly believed likewise?

While I truly consider myself a conscientious human being, an Indian and a Bengali in the order mentioned, I do hold some pride in my bong roots. I am nowhere close to being a flag-bearer of the community and most of my closest friends are non-Bengalis. I am open to the world and would embrace its every nook and corner with the same enthusiasm.

But at some corner, I am as intensely proud of my roots as is anyone else. We pride in our destiny and our roots, for they define our culture and being. And I hate such mindless quotes, who out of whatever reason, even dare to bracket us in the stereotypical nonsense.

On a serious note

A couple of days back I heard something interesting and very thought provoking. Here is a version of how I recall it.

Old methods/behavior+ old techniques= predictable results

Old methods/behavior+ new techniques= unpredictable

An example,

War is an old behavior, an old method to settle scores or win territories (whatever that may be). In the old ways, when people fought with bows and arrows or local warfare, it had predictable results (though war has never been totally predictable, yet you could still gauge the winner or the extent of carnage from the strength of stake holders involved)

War, the old behavior still continues, but with alarmingly new techniques. Is there anything predictable in the high tech, atomic warfare of today?

Serious thoughts but expand it to any facet of life, and it might hold true.

Is it time for us to change those old habits which have become obsolete in today's world and might be detrimental to our existence?

K K Menon- The Superstar

Why was K K Menon left out in Wednesday? I really loved the movie and thought the portrayal of the characters were very good, right from the assertive Anupam Kher, to the conscientious Naseeruddin Shah, to the hunk ATS officer Jimmy Shergill, not to forget the likeable Aamir Bashir. Every actor fitted the role seamlessly and it was one of the finest cinema that I have watched in recent times. However, I did miss K K Menon in the movie. Right from Black Friday to Mumbai Meri Jaan, I think he is an actor who brings out the poignancy, the reality of such situation in a manner that is unmatched and very forceful.

Wishing that in future we see more of K K Menon in his very best in such meaningful cinema.

Restless me

I am a very restless individual..have a very short attention span and am always looking for change; three years after setting up our new home, I have been bugging the poor husband regularly for a complete make-over. Yes, I am that silly and unstable. So, now you know why the look of this blog changes regularly...that is my defense for the every changing layout. The only constants in my life are my family and friends; thankfully, the lord has at least given me some good sense in that department. Rest, everything in life is subjected to change, and at that, quite frequently and without any notice :).

The Palace of Illusions

Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni’s ‘The Palace of Illusions’ is an interesting adaptation of the Mahabharata, viewed through the eyes of Draupadi. It is Mahabharata, as narrated by the epic Queen, through her jealousies, insecurities, stateliness and intense passion outside marriage.

The story, though set in an ancient era, draws definite parallel to modern day society, where the woman in the backdrop, through her silent but strong attributes, define the course of several lives. The dark, unwhetted love that Draupadi feels for Karna, silently drives the kings to the intense battle, that is known as Mahabharata. Though it will be too simplistic and totally out of context to attribute the entire Mahabharata to one unrequited love, the first person narration from the regal lady, brings forward the forceful character that changed the course of history.

The book is a must read to understand the intricacies of the era, to fall head over heels in love with the man called Karna, to understand the fragility in the strength of characters like Dhristyadyumna, Drona and several others, and most importantly to relate to a lady who never forgave Arjuna, for sharing her body and spirit with four others, and led the entire life pining for a man who she believed would have behaved otherwise.

Very modern in its conflicts between Kunti and Draupadi, it’s passion for revenge, its depiction of love and ambition, the characters as seen through the eyes of Draupadi, give a new facet to the often narrated story of Mahabharata.