28 January 2015

“This was the best two hours I have spent in a long time”

That is how my friend from school days Sanjay Sethi wrapped up our meeting. I had not met him and Saji Abraham ever since we finished our tenth grade. I had a thirteen hour layover in Dubai. That was as good a reason as any to catch up with two friends that I had not seen for 32 years!! Saji was kind enough to pick me up and drop me off.

The three of us went thru the whereabouts of about half our entire class (we had a total of 103 students). What was most heartening for me to see was how two of my friends from very early days have become such great successes professionally and personally. One has a thriving business here in Dubai and the other has globe trotted thru his entire high flying career in the banking sector. But above all, they always have time for our old school mates.

Got some real inspiration talking to them today.

Sanjay’s description aptly described how we felt walking away from that coffee place….We missed Sanjeev Gupta – the other high flyer today….

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28 January 2015

Will I be able to make the adjustment?

It was a long – really long drive from my brother’s house to the old age home where Sanghamitra’s mom stayed. That was Kolkata crowded roads in a terrible form. Honestly, I was a little apprehensive of what a old age home might look like. I had never seen one before. But mostly, my thoughts were around analyzing why are old age homes becoming more common now in India. Even at the turn of the century, fifteen years back, it was not that common, if there were any at all.

Slowly it started dawning on me how the society in India is going thru an evolution many developed countries have gone thru some time back. With the advances in technology, communication and transport, people have moved further away from their parents’ homes for jobs. First, communication has made it possible for people to know of opportunities in other parts of the country. A few decades back, nobody in Bengal would probably know about great opportunities in Bangalore. Second, advances in transportation has made it possible for people to live elsewhere near jobs and yet be in touch with their loved ones in a far more easy fashion. As as the middle class grew in general in India, like every human being, so did the need for independence and privacy.

In the first wave, that broke the concept of joint families. My father is a great example. He moved away from his village a mere 100 km (60 miles) away but that was his ticket to economic independence and freedom. He visited his mom every weekend in the village but it was a joint family no more.

It appears that there is a second wave going on now. In the previous wave, there was still one or two kids who always stayed back in the parents’ home and took care of them. But as communication and transportation continued to advance, kids of the middle class started getting exposed to opportunities much further flung away – totally different states and even different countries. Add to that the fact that people started having less number of kids (a reasonably success Family Planning Programme was launched in India in the seventies) and increasingly families are having both the husband and wife working. What that is resulting in is a wave of parents who have retired but suddenly find themselves without any kids or grandkids near them.

The kids and the grandkids are succeeding by most every benchmark a middle class family can measure with. But the associated casualty has been a further breaking up of the unit called a family. The kids have great intentions but no ability to take care of their parents (remember they are trying to optimize their life around their own kids’ education and their own professions, just like my dad did). Sometimes they are not even in the same country. Meanwhile, day by day, the parents are losing their ability to support themselves.

There is another effect I have noticed. Most of my friends’ parents seemed to have grown some or the other kind of psychiatric issues – depression being the most common of them. But this trip alone, I heard of stories galore of dementia, bipolar disorder and many other such issues. Many of you probably know that both my parents suffer on some of those counts (my mother much more severe than my father). I do not think this set of retirees were ever prepared socially to deal with a life where they do not have much work to keep themselves busy on one hand and on the other hand, have no loved ones around at home.

Those were the thoughts that I was lost in as the car weaved thru increasingly narrower roads. At one point of time after about one and a half hour of drive, we entered a street that literally could not take traffic from both sides. After navigating for about three kilometers in that really narrow street (and me getting more and more worried about how hospitable the old age home location would be), we suddenly came to the gates of “The Peace”.

Once I entered though, it was a completely different scene. It was a lush green property with beautiful flowers all over the place and a few small clean water bodies with seats all around. It was truly a dramatic change. Then I looked at the building. Every balcony had old people sitting outside their rooms staring at me. Suddenly, I became very self conscious. I was wondering whether they were forlorn to see outside people to talk to or were merely wondering what was a funny looking, shaven head guy with a big camera doing in their campus. Or maybe they were just merely enjoying the sun.

Eventually, I found my way to Sanghamitra’s mom’s room. Except she was not there. But soon I found a lady headed my way slowly with the aid of her walker. And that is how I met the lady who I had trekked there for. Over the next hour and a half we talked a lot about her family, her background, my family… the two cardiac arrests she has had, the adjustments she is having to make in her lifestyle – especially around food (she has a lot of restrictions). Without doubt, one of the kindest ladies I have ever met in my life. Given such a large change in lifestyle, she was remarkably jolly and positive in her attitude.

I wish I had a lot more time to just get to know her and her journey in life a little more but it was getting time for me to make the next long trek to the place where all my cousins had gathered and it was also getting past her lunch time. Bid her adieu and slowly walked back wondering “Would I be able to adjust to an old age home ever?”.

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27 January 2015

Erenga-r “chaayer maasi”

“You see life is not about the destination but the journey. The ultimate destination in life is always death. What is the big hurry reaching there? Let’s slow down and look around and enjoy the journey”, I explained.

I know. That was way too heavy for my ten year old nephew who, fittingly enough, stared at me blankly. (as a Bengali would put it “fyal fyal korey cheye roilo” ๐Ÿ™‚ )

First the context…

You probably recollect from a previous blog that after checking out of Ibiza Merlin resort, instead of heading towards my brother’s place, we decided on the spot to go instead to Kalyani to revisit my parents who were absolutely surprised and delighted. You may also remember that the travel was very tedious. We covered about 60 miles in nearly four hours or so.

As we kept plodding along, my elder nephew was clearly getting impatient (as was my brother, by the way). At some point of time. the nephew had asked enough number of times how long would it take us to reach Kalyani that I was prompted to spout out the philosophical words quoted above.

“What does it even mean?”, he enquired.
“Well, once we reach Kalyani, what are you going to do? Most likely watch TV – right? Will you remember it next year when I come? Or will you remember more if we do something that we normally don’t do?”, I struggled to explain, clearly taken aback by his curiosity to actually understand what I said. (I know, silly nephew ๐Ÿ™‚ ).

“Like what?”, he pressed on.
“Oh! I don’t know. Maybe we should look for some odd looking trees and stop to take pictures. Maybe we should stop by a roadside pond and see who can throw a stone farthest into the water. Maybe we should pick up one of those yellow flowers you see and count how many petals are there in a mustard flower. (The answer is four, btw. I had once stopped and counted). Or may be we should just stop and talk to a stranger and make new friends.”.

“Let’s do that”, he said.
Clearly surprised by the persuasive power of my own words and certainly not prepared for his “You said it. Now let’s do it”, I tried to defer the challenge by a classic stalling tactic – “Which one?”.

I would like to believe he is starting to think like me. But in all likelihood, he just remembered the last of the various examples I gave. “Let’s do the random new friend thing”. “Okay”, I said. Clearly, I was anything but okay. I needed some time to think this one thru. But soon enough, I had an idea. “How about we stop for a tea?”, I asked my brother. He was obviously tired of the traffic and readily agreed but the problem was it was nearly 2 PM. Well past lunch time. Where would we get some tea?

I guess where there is a will, there is a way. Under five minutes, we found a place that would serve tea. The tea stall lady was all by herself in her stall. Which was great – since I could talk to her at length. By this time, my nephew had grown cold feet and was suggesting that we probably should try the next tea stall. “Oh! come one. Let’s get out. If you don’t want to talk – that’s okay. Your job is to take pictures on my phone”. Which he was totally up to. Actually anything digital is like a candy to kids of today!!

And that is how we got to know our “Erenga-r chaayer maasi”. Erenga, we found out from her is the name of the village nearby and where she is from. Google maps showed this village to be a few kilometers due west of Chandannagar. “Chaa” means tea in Bengali (and not so surprisingly, many other languages in the middle east) and “maasi” is an endearing term every Bengali uses to respectfully address a lady (literally means “my mom’s sister”). And this is on Highway 13 – often called Delhi Road – connects Dankuni to Mogra and and is used to bypass the Grand Trunk Road on the west side of the Hooghly river.

We also learnt that seven months back she fulfilled one of her dreams and opened up the tea stall by the highway. She gets up early in the morning to make bread and omelette for breakfast for road side travellers along with tea of course. And then makes “ghugni” in the afternoon for lunch. And she then closes shop around 6 PM.

She also took me and my brother all around the shop showing us her set up. As my nephew kept on taking pictures one after the other. My brother explained to him the physics behind how the large earthen pot kept water cold for summer use. Here is one thing that struck me. Her set up was pretty standard. You can see from the pictures that she smashed coke (coal rocks) by hand and then used them to light up her earthen oven (‘unoon”). She had the standard kettle, glass and so on. But she had something else – the large coffee jar/pot (see pic) – that I had never seen in a roadside tea stall in my entire life. You see them in the restaurants where they fill it up with hot coffee and it stays hot for a long time. You simply pour coffee out of it.

I asked her, why and how did she get that coffee jar/pot. She talked about how many of her customers were getting impatient waiting for her to make fresh tea. To solve that she found out about this jar/pot and got somebody to buy it for her from Kolkata!!! My first thought was “That is pretty entrepreneurial”. My second thought was “Ah! More travelers in a deathly hurry to reach their destination”.

As I said good bye, I told her that we will stop by next time we were on that road. She repeatedly asked us to come during “Joyisththo maas” (around May/June). Evidently, her village is famous for its mangoes and she will keep a few for us!!!

Not sure what the nephew made of the whole experience. But he spent about thirty minutes explaining to my dad and mom in great detail the whole event when we reached Kalyani. And they sat with him listening with rapt attention… They clearly were in no hurry to reach any destination…..

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27 January 2015

Reconnecting after 1976 ….

First of all, I am back to Kolkata airport with good phone and internet connection! Need to start writing my travelogs…. Starting with a phenomenal get together last afternoon. I will tell you how exciting it was. Being an absolute stickler for time (even in Kolkata, I managed to show up for the get together on the dot at 12:30 pm – although I needed all the luck in Kolkata), I had scheduled two hours for this get together. I had figured we would run out of stories from 1973-1976 in that time. Well, we went over our schedule by another couple of hours and even then we were literally kicked out by the janitor who needed to clean the restaurant before his shift got over ๐Ÿ™‚

This one was a great one for me personally. I had these friends I had made in first grade (and one of them in pre-kindergarten) and over the last few years, I had found out their whereabouts and was in touch with them individually. But never managed to meet them (save a few). Finally, as luck would have it, seven of us got together under the same roof!! The last time that happened was literally 39 years back ๐Ÿ™‚

Unfortunately, a few more could not make it (it was Republic Day in India and they had office and school duties). And tellingly, none of the girls made it. As somebody mentioned “Saala, sedino lengi merey gelo, aaj-o lengi merey dilo” ๐Ÿ™‚ For personal safety I am neither going to translate that nor divulge who said it ๐Ÿ™‚ Are you listening, Ajanta, Aditi and Suparna? ๐Ÿ™‚

I always thought I remember incidents from the past more than others. These guys beat me hands down. Specially Mrinal’s ability to remember as well as tell stories was mind blowing. Ah! those stories of gulmohar tree and Atish’s coveted tiffin of “lobongolotika”s !!!

Since Facebook is awash with pictures of people reconnecting with their old school friends over lunch or dinner at fancy restaurants, we figured we should instead, stay close to our roots. We re-enacted what might have been if we all stayed together and studied in the same college together. We gathered on the street and the ones who smoke bought cigarettes from the street guy and lit them up. We, the non-smokers, did some secondary smoking and mostly talked and laughed above the din of the honking and screeching of Kolkata traffic ๐Ÿ™‚ [To be sure, we also ate lunch together in a fancy restaurant but that is not what bonded us ๐Ÿ™‚ ]

Atish, Arghya, Sanjay, Soumen, Sujit, you have to make it to the next Kolkata get together!! And for the ones who did make it…. I was barely six years old when I took a few steps of my life together with you (and I was four years when I did the same with Arindam Dasgupta) and I was able to do the same yesterday again. It is a great life I lead and thanks for making it so….It was absolutely marvelous to see those red-shorts-white-shirt tiny tots have succeeded so much in their lives!!!

We will meet again… As the old shayar goes…

“Musafir hain hum bhi, musafir ho tum bhi
Kisi mod pe phir mulaqat hogi… ” !!

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25 January 2015

Oh! What a yarn of lies we weave!!

We checked out of the resort and were heading towards my brother’s home in Kolkata. A few minutes into the journey, I just floated the hypothetical “How about we head back to our parents in Kalyani?”. Of course, there were always those initial “Would be great, but what about…..?”. Ultimately, the surprise element of the adventure was enough that we decided we will change course. The price to be paid was that we would have to wake up very early and head back to Kolkata at a God forsaken time tomorrow morning.

The journey was a tad tedious what with my brother getting caught driving without a license (he left it at the resort, the cop was nice enough to let him go after talking to the resort) and getting caught in a tight jam due to construction. After about four hours we finally had covered 100 km (60 miles).

Of course, there was complete mayhem once we all walked in our parents’ house. Remember, they were under the impression they were going to see me in another three to four months when I left home a few days back. Then the two nephews confounded their whole confusion by trying to pull their own stunts of surprises. With all the commotion, my sister and niece came up from downstairs and promptly added to the confusion.

You can see in this picture my elder nephew holding court and has convinced half the crowd that we are leaving in about another hour’s time. Of course, slowly but surely he is getting caught in his own lies. But the best was when my mom demanded to know why do we have to leave tonight (which is untrue, by the way) and before my sister in law could explain that she had duties in her school tomorrow for India’s Republic Day ceremony (which is the truth, by the way), my brother added for good measure “Kaal Obama aaschhen” (Tomorrow Obama will be coming).

My father who is hard of hearing raised his voice “Kaal tor Baba Ma aaschhen???” (meaning Your inlaws are coming in tomorrow?) ๐Ÿ™‚

Right now, there is absolute chaos and total confusion. At this rate, even I might forget what are our real plans are ๐Ÿ™‚

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25 January 2015

The gang of 23!!

And those are the 23 cousins and their families (including the two in the inset who had to leave early and myself as the photographer) that got together for a couple of days. This has never happened before ever and I don’t think we can pull this off again ever but it was certainly great to see all those relatives of mine for a few days all under the same roof. Learnt a lot about my extended family from mom’s side.

Statistically, the youngest and the eldest ones were separated by about half a century!!!
Also, we had 1 doctor, 5 teachers, 6 in other services and 5 homemakers.
Further, if you discount me, everybody lives within 100 miles of each other or less! The one exception point (me) is about 10,000 miles away!!!

And that completes my third goal for this trip!!

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22 January 2015

Picture this! Forty eight years later!!

After we set out from my first friend’s house this morning (that story coming later), we headed towards our last destination with our parents which was kept a complete secret. My brother and I had worked this out. Parents had no idea but we were attempting to go visit my eldest cousin (Kajol-di) – my dad’s only brother’s eldest daughter. The challenge – which turned out to be the least of our challenges was that I was not being able to contact her on her mobile phone. The phone would ring, she would pick up and then there were only inaudible noises. I had been attempting this for over two weeks. I could not even find out where her village was.

All I knew was that her village was called Norja. Every attempt to search for Norja or Narja on Google maps promptly landed me in Norway. As smart as Google is, it had not a clue that I had no desire to visit the land of difficult spellings :-), at least as of now! I kept on searching for those two names on the internet and finally stumbled upon a government tender to bid for road construction between the villages of Basuda and Norja. Finding Basuda in Google Maps was rather easy. And then started looking for roads coming in and out of Basuda. And that is when I found a village called Narjja!! Why they put two “j”s I don’t know but I found my village.

As I started giving instructions to my brother on the road directions, my biggest worry was whether my cousin would be home. This cousin is special to me. There is a history here. My parents had taken over the responsibility of raising this cousin since my uncle had four kids in quick succession (including a set of twins) and was struggling a bit. Eventually a few years after my sister was born, she went back to her dad. But in the meanwhile, she lived with my parents and went to school. Also, she took care of me and played with me and all that when I was barely months old. You can see me in the black and white pictures from those times.

Within a few minutes, my dad grew suspicious that we were not heading home. He kept on asking where we were going and my brother and I kept on evading giving a straight answer. And he kept on getting impatient. Then we met our next challenge – A sign that said “Road closed”. That is it! No guidance on diversions or alternate routes – just that the road is closed!!! My brother, who has always treated all road signs as merely suggestions just went around the sign and proceeded.

We soon realized why the sign was there. The bridge on a river was broken. Literally snapped!! There was no road around it!!! But this is India!! People make roads when and where they need them to be. My brother, along with a tractor and a few other assorted vehicles left the road and start climbing down and then drove over hard fields at a snail’s pace, crossed the river which did not have much water to write home about and then came up the other side over complete dirt. Finally reached the road on the other side and then proceeded like nothing had happened!!

Eventually, when we were within a kilometer of the village, I called her again to get some directions. The good news was that I could actually hear her. The bad news was that she told me she was not in her village. She had gone to another village ten kilometers away!! Since we had managed to get past a broken bridge, this was not going to stop us. Found out the other village (Bhatar) in Google maps and headed in that direction.

Before long, I was able to see my cousin – who to be honest, I did not recognize at all even as she approached me at the tea stall in that village where we were waiting for her. Her first reaction? She just started crying seeing us. I am sure she had flashbacks of those days when I was barely months old and a complete nuisance to her ๐Ÿ™‚ We chatted for half an hour and had two rounds of tea.

I had only two pictures of her from those days. I had copied them on my phone before I left Atlanta just to show her if we met her. Which I did. But more importantly, as you can see in the pictures, I got everybody to take pictures today standing in exactly the same sequence as those two pictures. I just wanted to see how two pictures with same people would look forty eight years later!! You can see for yourself! Cool or what? ๐Ÿ™‚

Eventually, we gave her a lift home to her own village. As we said good bye to her, you could see her pride welling in her seeing that little month old cousin of hers has grown up so much! Every villager that came by – and there were quite a few since a car is a very unlikely sight in those dirt roads – she would introduce me with three phrases – “Kakar chheley. Engineer. America-y thhakey” (meaning “My uncle’s son. Engineer. Lives in America”). And that is all there was for anybody else to know, she figured. You have to be in the context of small villages in rural India to understand the power of the words “Engineer” or “Lives in America”. That “Kakar chheley” part wasn’t that powerful though ๐Ÿ™‚

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