23 May 2015

One more promise kept….

I waited gingerly after ringing the bell, not knowing what to expect. I was starting to get tired too. This was my fourth stop in a whirlwind 12 hour trip to create as many intersection points as I could that day before going back to dad. Usually my intersection points are about re-uniting with somebody from the long past or meeting complete strangers on the road. This one was a little different. I went to meet them. But I had never met them before. All that had happened was (you can read it here: http://www.rajibroy.com/?p=8180 ) when I met Sudeshna (again for the first time in my life – although we found out she was my sister’s classmate) in Houston, we realized that her parents used to live next door to my in laws. When she called her parents up in front of me, I took the phone away from her and talked to her mom to find out exactly which house they used to live in. And in the process, I promised her mom that I would come by and meet her next time I was in Kolkata.

Eventually, auntie (Sudeshna’s mom) opened the door. I started explaining myself
“Amakey chinben na. Amar naam Rajib Roy”. (‘You won’t know me. My name is Rajib Roy’)
“Rajib to? Na chenar ki aachhey? Ei sedin to katha holo”, she put me at ease. (‘Rajib, right? Why would I not know? We talked just the other day’).

That was all I needed to feel welcome. I opened my shoes and and went straight to the big sofa in the living room. Uncle came out and after the initial pleasantries, drew up a chair very close to me and said “Ami kaaney kom shuni. Tomar khub kaachhey esey boschhi”. (‘I am little hard of hearing. If you don’t mind, I will sit very close to you to talk to you’). There was a very genuine level of sincerity and eagerness to chat that came thru immediately.

And chat we did for forty five minutes about our times in Durgapur, their visits to US, life in US, their daily routine in Kolkata and all things sundry.

Forty five minutes later, I got up to take leave. “Bongo sommelon-e aaschho to?”, asked auntie. I was a little startled. First, as a background, “Bongo sommelon” is the largest gathering of Bengali diaspora in US and Canada. Any Bengali worth his or her bite of Hilsa fish makes a beeline to this event (I am not sure of the frequency – every year? other year?) from North America. With their resplendent clothes and glittering jewelry in tow!

Turns out they will be visiting U.S. (Houston) soon and was enquiring if I would be at Bongo Sommelon (which is in Houston this year in July) like them. Disappointment was writ large on her face when she realized that I have never been to any Bongo Sommelon and that I am not in a hurry to change that trend πŸ™‚ I am hoping against hopes that she is not going to hold that against me from now on πŸ™‚

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22 May 2015

Meeting Suparna! After forty years!!!

Next up on our list after I was done at Suparna’s house was to visit another Suparna in Kolkata. This one was my classmate from first grade thru fourth grade and I had not had a chance to meet her ever since 1976. I was sure one of these trips to India, I was going to figure out how to meet her but once I learnt that she had lost her dad a few days back, I figured it was high time I made a few phone calls and check on her

Like most other meetings with friends from forty years back, I expected this meeting also to center around catching up on other friends that we had lost touch with and check on each others’ parents and in this case talk about her dad a little. (I did get a chance to talk to her about her dad’s departure the previous day for some time).

However, this did not go the route of my usual meetings. That is because when I met her son and daughter, I found out that her daughter worked in the same industry (geospatial analytics) as I do now. I was thrilled that I finally found somebody that I could dump the sum total of industry knowledge that I had gained in a year’s time, which, admittedly does not count for much. She was overwhelmed that I actually knew how to spell LIDAR and did not tell her “Oh! tumi map-er kaaj koro” (Oh! you work with maps?) [Geospatial is not well understood in most of circles I am aware of in India and I can see how most would reduce what she does to as drawing maps πŸ™‚ ]. We talked at length of upcoming technologies, job opportunities in India and abroad. Suparna might point out that it was I who talked at length πŸ™‚ Frankly though, I was excited to find out somebody here who could relate to the description of what we do as a business for our customers. I was getting tired of saying we fly planes and take pictures πŸ™‚

Eventually, her kids left and Suparna and I caught up about our parents and school memories – especially teachers. She filled in a lot of gaps I had in my memories – especially mapping out who sat where in a few spots in our fourth grade that I could not remember!! I have to mention that all through the hour, I do not think Suparna ever got over the spectre of my shining bald head πŸ™‚ as exhibited in the picture below πŸ™‚ and her many questions on the said shining topic πŸ™‚ Made all the more shining by the constant sweating in India πŸ™‚

It was good to see Suparna after forty years. I will have to come back again to spend some more time when she is a bit more relaxed.

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22 May 2015

There are always two sides of a coin

Seeing that my dad is certainly getting better, albeit with very small steps, night before last, I planned to visit some of the other folks I had planned to and create some new intersection points. First in priority was to check on my friend Suparna’s mom.

This year, like every year, when I called up Suparna in London to wish her a very happy birthday, I got to know about her mom being down with Alzheimer’s and that her condition was deteriorating rapidly. I had promised myself to visit her when I would be in India next.

But I did not know about her current whereabouts. For a few hours I was getting a little worried since none of my calls to Suparna’s mobile were being answered. She is a very renowned doctor in London and is very difficult to contact her during office hours. Took a chance and called her home and found her son there. Then the trick was to gain his confidence enough to give me his grandparent’s address! I took another chance and reminded him how he and I along with his mom and her brother had taken a boat ride once in Miami when he and his mom had visited US to attend his uncle’s graduation. He was too small to remember, I figured. But lo and behold! His demeanor on the other side of the phone completely changed! “You are THAT uncle?” he asked and rattled off all the details I was looking for to trace his grandparents!!

Armed with that, my brother and I hit the road last morning headed towards a very small place that I had never been to – Dankuni! And between us and the ever-complaining car of his, we eventually reached there.

Seeing how frail Suparna’s mom had become was another reminder how little we actually get to control in our life. She certainly has all the challenges of an advanced Alzheimer’s patient. And more. I sat down next to her for quite some time and gently asked her questions. She nodded at times and haltingly gave one word answers at times. But most of the times she just kept quiet. Uncle explained to me how she has lost all ability to do even the basic bodily functions or even tell simple things like she is feeling hungry.

As uncle left me with auntie and went to the other room to chat with my brother, I sat there quietly – my mind floating back to better days. She was one of my favorite ladies growing up. She was very kind and gentle to me. There was this time when three of my friends – Avijit, Shukla, Debasish and I had landed up at her place and were quibbling over something. Seeing that the other four had rallied up against me in the debate, Suparna’s mom had sided with me in that argument. Her reasoning was “Tora soba-i miley or against-e keno?” (‘Why have all of you piled up against him’?). Incidentally, we won that argument and I don’t think Suparna likes acknowledging the bet she lost πŸ™‚

It was very hard for me to accept the changes time had wrought on her. How I wished I had not waited for nearly twenty five years to see her again. I found out that she had even visited US in the meanwhile once. I completely missed her.

If that was the lesson in life I thought I had to learn, I was in for another surprise. In a classic case of a yin always having a yang, I got great inspiration from uncle in the the next hour that was spent with him. I came out to the room that uncle and my brother was sitting in and started asking about his own health. My jaw dropped once I pieced together the whole story.

Here I was looking at the havoc time had wrought on auntie’s health and the next moment, I was looking at somebody who has steadfastly refused to be cowed down by time! What you see in the picture is an eighty year old gentleman. In the Indian context, most would reckon him to look ten to fifteen years younger. Fit as a fiddle, he showed no signs of age. He climbed up and down the stairs as fast as we could. While he has a help for a few hours in the day, he pretty much takes care of his wife by himself.

Amidst all this, what was absolutely startling was his attitude. He smiled the whole time I was there. Not even once did I hear him complain about anything. Even while talking about his wife, he seemed to have an amazing ability to accept inevitable facts of life. Unlike most folks over here with whom any discussion quickly becomes a complaints-fest of the rotten state of politics or terrible state of medical and hospital services and so on, he seemed to always accentuate on the positive. And when he talked about unfortunate stuff, he just stuck to stating the facts without complaining or being judgmental.

I was so inspired that as I got into the car back, I blurted out “When I grow up to be as young as you, I want to be just like you”.

“No. I know you. You will be better”, he said firmly, as he closed the car door for me.

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21 May 2015

We were not done waving each other good bye…

You might recollect how, this January, I had traced down Malabika – yet another classmate of mine who I had last seen exactly forty years back, thanks to some help and tips from two other friends – Subir and Suparna.

If you recollect a little further, you might remember that Malabika was able to place me purely due to my academic results in third grade. I felt real lucky that day that I would another chance to repeat our daily routine from those days – waving each other good bye from our school bus.

It was not exactly our school bus this time, but I did wave her good bye one more time from my brother’s car. After 40 years, I was able to physically see Malabika again! It was absolutely fantastic to see her and also very encouraging to realize how she has raised three great daughters (who I also met) as a single mom. Which is not very easy in the Indian context.

For all the old school mates, if you had any doubts, let me assure you that she still has that constant giggling and laughing intact!!!

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19 May 2015

“What is a blogger?”

“Aachchha baba, ei blogger byapar-ta ki?” (‘Son, what is this thing called blogger?”), he asked as he got up on his bed and sat down again. The good news is he seems to be gaining physical and mental strength enough to will himself to get up and sit down on his bed. Per my family, this is the best they have seen him in the last ten days. The difficult thing though is that now I had to figure out a plausible way to explain what is a blogger. As you may or may not realize, there are three main challenges in explaining the concept of a blogger to my dad.

The first challenge, clearly, is explaining the concept of a blogger to my dad πŸ™‚ To this day, he is still worried about how does this thing called Google (or as he calls it “Googly”) get to know everything. Forget that – he still has not figured out how my brother in Kolkata gets to know his (dad’s) medical test results done in Kalyani earlier than he himself does. He thinks email means the hospital guy rattles off all the results on the phone to my brother who diligently writes them down on paper and pen. I could barely get past a simple explanation that a blog is like a daily journal where you can write your opinions, stories, events – whatever you want. Instead of paper and pen, you write it on a computer which keeps it in the internet. His immediate interruption was to enquire if I can write blogs too. I told him, yes and that I indeed am a blogger. You could see the pride of an Indian dad welling in him and overflowing in his face. He has not a clue what is a blogger but he was proud as proud can be that his son was a blogger. Go figure!! I am sure by this time he had figured out that if his son was a blogger, it probably is not a bad thing after all. Might be even a great thing πŸ™‚ After all, his son does it πŸ™‚

The second challenge is my dad relies on a few time-tested sources of information for himself. “Ami AT Dev-er dictionary -tey kothao khnuje pelam na”. Meaning, he could not find that word anywhere in AT Dev dictionary (a popular local English dictionary) . And as everybody in his neighborhood knows, if it is not in AT Dev dictionary, the entire English empire has no power to come up with any more new words. Mind you, the said AT Dev dictionary that he has is the 1973 edition – before even internet was around. Let alone blogs and bloggers.

The third challenge – and this is a tough one – is that he is hard of hearing. Over the years, watching him, I have concluded that being hard of hearing and having an infuriating need to understand everything going on around you is highly positively correlated. We got him a high end hearing aid. Just like his attitude towards dialysis, he just refuses to give in to that. I would barely start “Blogger maaney holo….” (‘blogger means…’) and he would rudely interrupt me “Smuggler??????” (this one needs no translation πŸ™‚ ). Trying to suppress laughter while explaining a blogger is not something for the faint of the heart.

In any case, after a long (and enjoyable, I might add) conversation, he concluded (without being any the wiser on what a blogger is) “Koto ki sob beriyechhe. Koto kichhu dekhey gelam”!! (‘So many things have been invented.. So many things I got to learn before I die’).

Thinking later, I kicked myself for not going for a simple Machiavellian route – “Bloggers are people who have been completely cured after going thru dialysis”!!!! πŸ™‚ “Tumio blogger hobey?” πŸ™‚ πŸ™‚

19 May 2015

Funny start!!

My brother, nephews and myself marched into my dad’s house this afternoon and found him asleep in his bed. Which is what we were expecting. Half an hour later he woke up and in the first sign of physical improvement, instead of continuing to lie down, he got up and sat down in the bed.

And then something happened that showed that mentally he is bouncing back too… After asking about my flights and such, he called the nephews closer to him. In a sign of good spirits, he asked them “amakey tora dujona miley knaadhhey tultey paarbi to?” Meaning – “you two can lift me up on your shoulders right?” in an apparent reference to the walk to the crematorium after his death.

Riku – the elder one – was trying to do the math in his mind around weight and shoulder strength. Rishu – the younger one – gave it less than a second’s thought and said “Keno? Truck daakbo.” (“Why? We will rent a truck!”)

We are off to a good start!!

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