12 September 2015

The angle that Newton missed

It was house full last night. It was my third and last night at my dad’s place. The nephews had come over since their midterms just got over. The whole evening was total fun and commotion. A sample here:

One of the time tested routines for my dad when his grandkids get together is to sit with them and ask them random general knowledge questions. Somehow the kids really enjoy it. It does not work as well on my kids since my dad cannot understand their accent any ways. I remember how Nikita had taken fullest advantage of that once and after every time he would give out the answer to his own question, she would say very slowly and loudly “Yes, and that is what I said”. My dad, partially out of gullibility but mostly out of his pride that his little granddaughter from America was so smart would readily accept her statement.

Last evening, as you can see another such episode occurred. At point, my dad asked “Rishu, bolo to, gachh thekey ekta aam jodi porey jaay, kon deekey jaabey seta?”. (“If a mango falls from a tree, which direction would it go in – up or down?”. My youngest nephew, who was the subject of his question nailed the answer.

“Eta prothom ke dekhechiilen?”, he continued asking him. (“Who observed this first?”). He was obviously trying to teach him about gravity. However, my youngest nephew was not aware of all this. So, my dad asked his elder brother who answered it correctly – “Newton”. Well, technically, I am sure there are thousands and thousands of undocumented cases of human beings before Newton who had seen a mango fall, but this was one of those cases where you are expected to give the answer that the teacher expected, not necessarily what was technically correct.

And then came the kicker question – “Can you explain why?”. If my younger nephew did not know about Newton, there was very little chance that he understood gravity. But he was already smarting from the fact that his elder brother showed him up. So, he thought for a while. And then somewhat himself unconvinced – as you can see from his mischievous smile – he offered -“Keno? Aamra kuriye khaabo boley!” (“So that we can pick them up from the ground and eat them”) 🙂

Coming to think of it, he had a point there. It would be conceivably impossible to pick fruits off the ground and eat them if they started meandering away from the earth willy nilly after getting separated from the tree.

Class was dismissed following a loud guffaw from the granddad while he focused on telling the funny story to everybody who was getting near the porch we were sitting in.

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10 September 2015

Bose Kakima!!! That brought back a lot of memories.

My best friend during middle and high school days was Avijit Bose. We have always kept up with each other and although geographically we kept getting separated – till we could not be separated any further – he is in Australia and I in US – we could not get ourselves even in the same hemisphere latitudinally or longitudinally – he is still the friend that I talk to most.

We became best friends primarily because we were nothing like each other. He was a funny, street smart person, I was socially awkward and frequently did not know how to end a joke. He was athletic. I was anything but. He wasn’t the biggest fan of math but loved biology and veered towards the medical line. I loved math and therefore never understood a subject like biology where apparently division means multiplication and consequently went the engineering route.

But we spent a lot of time together. And in each other’s house. My parents were particularly fond of Avijit. As was his parents of me. I was always a special guest at his house. Which left me in the precarious position of having to balance their trust in me and also supporting my best friend in all his mischievous misadventures that his parents would surely frown upon if they got to know of them. And that was the other difference between us – he was the mischievous one and I was the goody goody boy then!! (Not any more 🙂 )

I have a lot of memories that go back to those days about his mom and dad. His dad let me accompany him on the stage at a flute concert once (he was an accomplished flutist). His mom would make special snacks for me. She would even bribe me to see if I would spill the beans of any girls in his life. I would feign total innocence. It worked well with the goody goody boy image 🙂

His mom once took me to visit her sisters and her brother about 150 km away from where we lived. I continued to keep in touch with those relatives of Avijit for many years after that. Even when we were geographically separated, I used to write letters religiously to both him and his mom.

Over the years though it became more and more infrequent to see her. I would get updates but would see her less so. The wake up call came for me when, a few months back, I heard about Avijit’s dad passing away. You have no idea how much I have kicked myself for not getting to see him once before he died or even for that matter, simply calling him up. He would always encourage me to study hard and thanked me for being a good influence on his son (I never claimed it, but he thought so).

Anyways, I had told Avijit this year that I will be going to see his mom. And there I was today – after fighting the terrible crowd of Kolkata suburbs for two and a half hours just to navigate about 40 miles. She was certainly frail of health. She recently had a nasty fall and her locomotion is severely compromised. Add to that a host of other physical ailments. But you have to give it to her in terms of mental courage and strength. She refuses to accept help – does everything herself as much as she can and I never saw once losing that beautiful smile I remember her for.

It was bliss to sit with her and just be that middle school boy again! I have to go back and spend more time with her again soon!!!

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10 September 2015

You win some. You lose some.

One of the best times of the day when I am in my dad’s house is the early morning hours when we sit down in the porch watching the day break over uncountable cups of hot tea. Today was no exception. Other than the fact, we talked for a longer than normal time. So long that before we knew anything, breakfast was brought in by mom.

Now a Bengali mom’s breakfast for her son is not to be underestimated by any stretch of one’s imagination. It is a religion unto itself. The sheer rigmarole of preparing a host of dishes – which can be most aptly described as “Carbs R Us” – is daunting enough to wean away those that are weak of the heart. Which is rich in irony. Since that is pretty much what happens to your heart after you partake of a few of those equal parts deliciousness and equal parts cholesterol savories.

We Bengalis might be dark in skin color but you should check out the white in our food. Rice is white but you cannot have that for breakfast. No problems! We shall have puffed rice (“muri”). That “paratha”? Made from white flour fried in diesel errrr… refined oil. Same with the smaller rounder “luchi”. That yellow curry? “Aloor dum” – made from potatoes. That brown stuff? Fried potatoes! Even those juicy yummy dessert items are white “rosogollas”!!!

In any case, my dad and I continued talking thru the breakfast albeit at a far lesser speed. Did I mention that those smorgasbord of white stuff can be as tasty as anything you ever eaten in your life. And you certainly do not want to deprive yourself of the indulgence of going thru the experience by being constantly distracted with small talk.

Towards the end, my dad commented – “Ei je baar baar du din-er jonno aasis. Jiboner sukh dukkher katha boley bhalo laagey” (“I really enjoy talking about all the joys and woes of life every time you come and visit me – although for a few days”). I weighed in his comments. And let the big potato bite first melt in my mouth. Then I fired back “Tomar saathey abaar sukh dukhher katha ki? Sarakhhon to khali dukkher-i katha”. Basically, I took a dig at his always complaining about everything. (which by the way is something I have noticed in all elders in India sans a few).

He stopped chewing his food and gazed into the outside. He had a frown on his face and kept thinking. Then finally admitted that what I said is true. “Sotti, sob somoy dukhher golpo-i hoy”. A full quiet minute later, he asked “Aar sukh-i ba kotha?’ (“What is there to be happy about?”).

I could have launched into a philosophical debate of happiness being a state of mind but I was not in a mood to distract myself from the “fulko luchi” (again a fried bread made from white flour) that I had just laid my hands on. So, I pushed the initiative back to him “Tomar cheye sukh-e ke aachey?” (“Who has more reasons to be happy than you?”)

He was sensing that he might land up on the losing side if he let me control the questioning. So, his quick response as he wrapped up his breakfast was “Se tumi Ambani-r saathey golpo korleo dukkher katha-i bolbe”. He basically implied that if I chat with Ambani – the richest person in India – even he would be talking about his woes and problems!!

The speed of conversation had slowed down considerably. Perhaps with the exhaustion of having to eat so much food. Eventually the maid servant came and cleared out the plates. After she left, my dad had a few very kind words for the lady “Tor maa-er jonno khub korey. Ja bola hoy – taar chey onek besi korey”. Basically my dad was trying to say that the lady was very helpful to my mom (without which my mom could not have managed given her condition). He explained that the lady went beyond the call of duty in getting some things done.

The food was probably starting to digest quickly. Carbs have a way that way. I was starting to spoil for a fight. “Ei ja! Ekta sukher katha boley felley”. Basically I teased him that he had slipped and mentioned something that he should be very happy about.

He laughed out loud startling me (and also making me realize that he is in a much better shape now; I had not heard him laugh like that for almost a year) and said “Khub hoyeche Ja. Uthey por ebar”. He unceremoniously shooed me away 🙂

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9 September 2015

Finally got to meet that person!!

Remember the story I had written in June, how a friend – Shirshendu – that I had heard about for a long time but had only met for the first time in January, that too in Dubai – had shown up at my dad’s place with another classmate of mine? Do you remember how my parents chuckled at his shaved head and was relieved to find out that I was not the only person sticking out? And how they never breathed a word about the fact that he had to shave his head because he had just lost his dad? And that is why he was visiting Kalyani? And he showed up to my parents’ house just to say Hi and spend some time with them?

Well you might remember also from another prior story when I first met Shirshendu that I found out he had gone to Dubai to sell books and then he worked himself up to be a top executive in a large construction company.

I knew exactly what to do when I stepped out my dad’s house this evening. I had to go meet Shirshendu’s mom. There is a song in Hindi that goes “jiski rachna itni sundar, woh kitna sundar hoga”. Which means, “If the creation is so beautiful, I wonder how beautiful the creator must be”! Google maps on my iPhone, accompanied by my sister and brother in law, I hit the road. For once Google maps met its match. The house numbering system in Kalyani was way too confusing for Google. I would not blame it. B-3/172 is next to B-3/18. But B-3/168 is not even within half a mile of B-3/172. Had to make a few phone calls to Shirshendu to get ourselves straightened out.

His mom is an amazing person. She reminded me a lot of Suparna’s dad (remember my friend whose mom has an advanced stage of Alzheimers but her eighty old dad was the most cheerful and inspiring person I had ever met?). In spite of all the recent difficulties she has gone thru – and she now lives by herself and does not go out for walks any more due to her knees – we did not hear her complain about one single thing during the whole hour we were there. I really wish I had taken my dad and mom with me 🙂

People say you are as old as you think you are. You have to see her to realize that physical ability and even life tragedies are but mere obstacles one needs to get past – not hobbled by. At the age of sixty five – when most people are thinking about the sunset years, she started learning recitation. And soon started performing on TV. In fact, right now, she is getting ready for an interview to be held in a nearby city.

She has a great group of friends, still exercises and does Yoga daily and even had toyed with the idea of whether she should learn how to sing. Now there is a person after my heart. Never say it is too late. Never follow the crowd. It is one life you will live. Live it on your terms.

I think I found out the answer to that Hindi song this evening!!

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9 September 2015

A few things you can always rely on…

There are a few things you can always rely on – you know like death, taxes, irritating emails or calls from me reminding you that you are one year older, my blog posts showing up on FB with a “See More” link and such…. 🙂

You can add one more to that – and that is my classmates from my middle school having a get together in their city at the flimsiest excuse. So, when somebody like Deepak Bansal found out that I would be in Delhi for a few hours, the whole machinery went into action. Frantic calls were being made, stern reminders were coming from the likes of Amlan that his own flight would land at 9:15 and nobody were to leave the party before he showed up and such. You would think that some Carmel school classmates were coming to town. (there is an age old connection between St. Xavier’s and Carmel school in Durgapur – and they would probably understand the above sentiment). In reality, it was far more harmless – it was just me.

But thanks to the effort taken by Deepak, Amlan, Kushal, Sushil, Shounak, Biplob and Aniruddha on a working day, I found myself in a beer bar surrounded by some of my most memorable friends from a very impressionable age! Some of them I saw last about 32 years back. I was stunned how Sushil recollected the exact day he saw me last in 1984. I do not know what we were talking about – but we did laugh a lot. Something about “Past Imperfect, Future Tense”, as I reckon 🙂

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9 September 2015

One more classmate from the yesteryears visited…

My office meeting in Delhi had just gotten over. I was getting a little sleepy with the jetlag. But I also realized that I do not get a chance to visit Delhi much – this one was after more than ten years. There were enough old classmates to dig up.

Since the earlier I knew a person in my life, the more the priority I try to give to seek them out, I went as deep as first grade this time. There was this girl – Nishi Jain – who I was in the same class with – in first and second grade. Then we shifted to different sections and eventually different schools. She was the topper in our class. My lasting image of her was that one day when our school bus broke down and the second bus had to ply the two routes our school had. First the bus picked us up and then eventually picked her up. As we approached the bus stand, I could see all the other kids playing and throwing stuff. Nishi was standing under a tree, studying her school books. That lasting picture probably describes Nishi best. Very conscientious, very studious and you could not ever put her name and the word “mischief” ever together, even if you wanted to.

Anyways, a couple of phone calls and a Google map search later I realized that Delhi traffic was going to cost me an hour just to reach her place. Decided it was worth it. And I am certainly glad I did. It was absolutely thrilling to see Nishi after a long time. In fact, from her house, we went to visit her husband who has recently opened up a new plastic surgery clinic. Both of them have grown up to be very successful doctors!

All these days I had tried to keep up with Nishi – she had let me know that she was not a technology person. She had an email id but she never checked it. Somebody had opened up a FB account for her, but she has never logged in. Which is why, whenever I had to get in touch with her, I had to call her up.

Not any more! Now that her son has gone to the US to study last month, guess what? Anything I wanted from her (like contacts, old pictures etc), she was like “Oh! I will Whatsapp it to you”. I guess that is how she keeps in touch with her son these days. She even demanded that I open up a Whatsapp group for our elementary school batch. I was decidedly feeling Amish at her swift conversion to technology.

Somewhere, a picture flashed in my mind where Nishi, in her late forties, was standing under a tree in Delhi and studying up and down the Whatsapp manual. But I did not mention that to her 🙂

It was magical to see an old friend though!!!

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9 September 2015

I mistook her for somebody else; so I ran with her!!

That is pretty much the short version of what happened. The long version – or as some of my friends bored of my long blog stories would call them – the “See More” version of the story goes somewhat like this.

Somewhere late last year, Facebook suggested that I might know this lady called Anuradha Malik. The face looked familiar – I remember her being in my MBA school and I noticed that all our mutual friends were our classmates from that school. I was not particularly close to her or anything but we had talked a few times in campus. I was not sure that she would remember me. However, never one to lose a chance to make FB friends, I sent her a friend request.

In a couple of days, FB let me know that she had accepted my friend request. From FB, I found out a few more details e.g. she had two daughters just like me and that she lived in Delhi and such. I also noted her birthday down in my diary. Figured one more birthday call to make every year – but it would be a good way to keep up with an old classmate.

This Feb, I wished her a happy birthday on FB and asked her for her phone number. Which she was foolish enough to share 🙂 Anyways, I called her up to catch up and wish her again. A few minutes into the call, I realized something was not clicking. It was a little strange that she was talking about a few people that I had very little knowledge of – mostly because they were one year junior to me. And she also was having difficulty remembering some of my friends.

And then I realized what had happened. I had a memory lapse and I confused Anu Malik with Anu Nayak from my batch. Anu Malik – who I was talking to was one year junior to me. Once I realized that, everything became very simple. I did remember a few things about her and the friends she used to hang out with. But I did not own up to her about my lapse that day!!

We kept talking about running. She was wondering if it was too late for her to start running. I, of course, kept encouraging her to start slow and steady. I told her about the oldest man who ran a marathon (102 years old Indian guy in Canada) who started running at the age of 81 because he was getting bored of life since he had just lost his wife!!

One thing led to the other and eventually Anu did start running. In fact, this Sunday, she ran her first 5K race. I followed up with her next day on FB asking her about the run. I still remember my first 5K. I knew it would be special to her. And then I let her know that I would be in Delhi the next day and if she had recovered from the race, I would more than happy to put in a run with her.

That is how our running appointment was fixed. I went in earlier to Lodi Gardens and put in a 5K run by myself and then waited for her. She had told me that her running group would be there too. I was excited about meeting another running group and run with them but most importantly, catch up with Anu.

I saw her after 24 years but she was easy to spot in the crowd. We split from the running group and put in a 4.5K run by ourselves. We talked about a lot of our college friends and our daughters and how they are growing up in different environment than ours and such.

In the end, she came to say bye to me and see me off in my car. (I think she went back to stretch with her running group). As we walked to the car, I finally got the guts to sheepishly bring up an old topic. I finally let her know that I had actually mistaken her for another person when we talked first. But I am glad things turned out the way they did. Otherwise, I would have been deprived of a chance to run with a college junior of mine!!!

She was characteristically graceful about it. Now, my next assignment is to make sure that the original Anu (Nayak) never reads this blogpost 🙂

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9 September 2015

Perfect product placement…

After the long flights to India, next morning, I figured I would go in for an early morning run to start getting used the the time difference. I was one of the first ones to show up at Lodi Gardens in Delhi for a run. It was still a little dark.

I had just gotten out of the car in my running clothes when I saw this guy running towards our car. I was a little curious. But then I chuckled. He basically came to a car right next to ours, opened the trunk and had a lot of coconuts on display. He promptly set up his shop moment he saw the first runner. And then in broken English he tells me – “You go ahead – finish your run. I will be waiting for you right here”.

I did not have any coconut water but after my run, I did get out my phone and took a picture of his mobile shop…

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