1 January
2014
1 January
2014
The morning after
1 January
2014
Juhu beach!
1 January
2014
“I wish you enough” for 2014
On this first day of the New Year, there are many ways of expressing my best wishes to you. None can match what I want to say as well as Bob Perks did in his short story “I wish you enough”.
From the bottom of my heart, my friends, “I wish you enough”.
If you are curious about the story, you can go to http://www.bobperks.com/wish.htm
or read it here…
———-
I never really thought that I’d spend as much time in airports as I do. I don’t know why. I always wanted to be famous and that would mean lots of travel. But I’m not famous, yet I do see more than my share of airports.
I love them and I hate them. I love them because of the people I get to watch. But they are also the same reason why I hate airports. It all comes down to “hello” and “goodbye.”I must have mentioned this a few times while writing my stories for you.
I have great difficulties with saying goodbye. Even as I write this I am experiencing that pounding sensation in my heart. If I am watching such a scene in a movie I am affected so much that I need to sit up and take a few deep breaths. So when faced with a challenge in my life I have been known to go to our local airport and watch people say goodbye. I figure nothing that is happening to me at the time could be as bad as having to say goodbye.
Watching people cling to each other, crying, and holding each other in that last embrace makes me appreciate what I have even more. Seeing them finally pull apart, extending their arms until the tips of their fingers are the last to let go, is an image that stays forefront in my mind throughout the day.
On one of my recent business trips, when I arrived at the counter to check in, the woman said, “How are you today?” I replied, “I am missing my wife already and I haven’t even said goodbye.”
She then looked at my ticket and began to ask, “How long will you…Oh, my God. You will only be gone three days!” We all laughed. My problem was I still had to say goodbye.
But I learn from goodbye moments, too.
Recently I overheard a father and daughter in their last moments together. They had announced her departure and standing near the security gate, they hugged and he said, “I love you. I wish you enough.” She in turn said, “Daddy, our life together has been more than enough. Your love is all I ever needed. I wish you enough, too, Daddy.”
They kissed and she left. He walked over toward the window where I was seated. Standing there I could see he wanted and needed to cry. I tried not to intrude on his privacy, but he welcomed me in by asking, “Did you ever say goodbye to someone knowing it would be forever?”
“Yes, I have,” I replied. Saying that brought back memories I had of expressing my love and appreciation for all my Dad had done for me. Recognizing that his days were limited, I took the time to tell him face to face how much he meant to me.
So I knew what this man experiencing.
“Forgive me for asking, but why is this a forever goodbye?” I asked.
“I am old and she lives much too far away. I have challenges ahead and the reality is, the next trip back would be for my funeral,” he said.
“When you were saying goodbye I heard you say, “I wish you enough.” May I ask what that means?”
He began to smile. “That’s a wish that has been handed down from other generations. My parents used to say it to everyone.” He paused for a moment and looking up as if trying to remember it in detail, he smiled even more.”When we said ‘I wish you enough,’ we were wanting the other person to have a life filled with just enough good things to sustain them,” he continued and then turning toward me he shared the following as if he were reciting it from memory.
“I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright.
I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun more.
I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive.
I wish you enough pain so that the smallest joys in life appear much
bigger.
I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.
I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.
I wish enough “Hello’s” to get you through the final “Goodbye.”
He then began to sob and walked away.
My friends, I wish you enough!
————-
31 December
2013
“What do they eat?”
There is always that one or two uncles that leave a lasting impression on you from your very early childhood days. For me one such uncle was “Bhattacharya-kaku” (Kaku in my language means uncle). He took great interest in the well being of all the kids in the neighborhood.
He would drag all of us out from our houses in the late afternoon and organize cricket or soccer games for all of us to play. He was our coach, manager, referee – all wrapped in one. Anytime we had tiffs within us friends, we invariably would go to Bhattacharya-kaku instead of our parents for a resolution.
He also used to organize local functions for the neighborhood where we would put up skits, drama, songs, dance etc. (BTW, every such function would somehow have at least one girl dancing to “Kothao amar haariye jabaar nei manaa, monay, monay” 🙂 ). He used to even write skits himself for us to act in.
I had no idea what happened to him after 1976 – when we moved from that neighborhood.
Last week, when I met Anindya Sarkar (remember the guy I was looking for all over social media and turned out he has lived in the same house now for fifty years? 🙂 ), I asked him if he had any idea of Bhattacharya-kaku. We got a faint glimmer of hope since he mentioned that he had heard that Bhattacharya-kaku’s younger daughter got married and lived on 4th street on Ranapratap road.
My brother and I were running short of time – we had to drive back to Kalyani that day – but decided to give it a shot. Turns out nobody on 4th street knew of Bhattacharya-kaku’s daughter. Out of desperation, we tried the next street too. After getting two “Sorry, don’t know”, one gentleman seemed to think he knew who were talking about and asked us to try two streets later. He, in fact, gave us the house number too.
We reached there, full of hope. One knock at the door, and a gentleman came out – initially bewildered (again, shaved heads are very uncommon in Durgapur) and then a little apprehensive. I put him at ease and mentioned, we do not have any bad news. While shaved heads are very uncommon in Durgapur, it is customary to shave off your head if your dad or mom dies in this part of the country 🙂
Turns out, we did hit the jackpot. The gentleman was Bhattacharya-kaku’s son-in-law. We explained our situation and he proved to be very helpful. He gave us Kaku’s mobile number.
By this time, we were terribly out of time. But I had what I needed – a sure way of contacting Bhattacharya kaku. We headed back to Kalyani. That evening, after reaching Kalyani, I called up that number. Unsurprisingly, he recognized me immediately (the son-in-law must have tipped him off!!).
He kept on advising me to take care of my health, stay physically active and be in touch with my musical or artistic side as long as I can. He even reminded me of something I had forgotten. In the very first drama, he had written for us, I had the lead role of a demon and I was decked up to look suitably ugly and scary for a demon. Evidently, I lived up to the reputation of a demon 🙂
He made me promise him that I will see him next time I came to India. I wrote it down in my small diary of “People I need to visit” his name and address and closed the chapter there. April is what I was targeting.
Couple of days later, I had to make some changes in my plans. After visiting Khokon, I decided to go all the way to Durgapur and get my family back myself since Sharmila had become sick the previous night. It was an arduous three and a half hours of drive on Indian roads, pick them up, and come back again.
On a whim, my brother and I decided, at the risk of getting terribly delayed in picking up my family, we would give it a shot to see Bhattacharya Kaku.
And we did. And we got horribly delayed. It was a very emotional get together. You could see that he really cared for us even now and was absolutely trying to reassure himself that we have become what he always wanted all of us to become. He was most proud of me since I am the only one in America from that neighborhood. And to him that is the ultimate achievement.
He had so many questions about America – “What do they eat?”, “Are they very kind people?”, “Are they all very fair?”, “Are they smarter than us?”, “Do you get fish to eat there?”, “Is it true that there even maids come in cars?”, “Do you eat beef?” and so on and so forth. I was determined to answer each and every question he had patiently. After an hour or so, he said “Okay. I will not hold you back today anymore. But come back and visit me. I want to learn more about America”.
As I said, I was terribly delayed. Sharmila was none too happy about it either. I am usually a stickler about time. It was too difficult for me to brush off Kaku’s childlike curiosity and deprive myself of a chance to give him back what he had given me a long time back – some quality time and attention.
This is a picture of my Bhattacharya-kaku.
31 December
2013
Till we meet again…
One by one, everybody left. First, my father in law and mother in law left. (Dad had a great time since he finally got a chance to talk to somebody from Durgapur for a couple of days). Then my sister and her family left for vacation. Now my brother and I am leaving with our families. Two days of 15 people together quickly got reduced to 2. I can only imagine how they were feeling as they trudged back to their flat all by themselves. With only each other to support thru the pangs of departure…
Btw, dad had again come down and stationed himself on a chair outside the building gate so that he could say Goodbye.
30 December
2013
Why the street dogs chase me…
On our way to my birthplace, we stopped at a tea stall for some tea. The first thing my animal loving siblings did was to find out the nearest street dog and fed it cookies bought from the tea stall owner. And then played with it. No wonder they chase me every time I run. I am sure they recognize me as my siblings’ brother and expect cookies…
30 December
2013
Sharmila has nothing on me now :-)
You guys are aware how I love finding out my old friends, connections, people I knew etc, right? Well, Sharmila is certainly no fan of that. She thinks I overdo it. (Not that I am claiming causality – just pointing out the correlation that if the old connection is of opposite gender, she thinks I am totally crazy 🙂 )
However, her dad – my father in law – was very impressed how I tracked down Khokon after 37 years. He was also impressed by how Facebook, GPS etc has helped me. Sensing his excitement, I suggested that he should try the same thing.
Yesterday, when I was bringing my family back to Kalyani to my parents’ place, the in-laws (dad and mom) also joined us. My father-in-law mentioned that he has heard that one of his college friends (he passed in 1957) lives in Kalyani.
This was a reasonably easy search – his friend’s son went to college with my brother in law. A couple of phone calls later, we had my father-in-law’s friend’s address.
This morning I walked him to that address and asked him to have a good time and call me if he needed to be picked back. He came back with his friend three hours later – evidently after having a whale of a time. They met after 56 years!!! That beats my 37 year record with Khokon hands down!!
I requested a picture of them that I could put on Facebook. They gladly obliged.
I asked Sharmila what she thought about all this. I got some cold water thrown on my face 🙁
Whatever, dudette, your dad thinks I am cool!!!
30 December
2013
Chalu-pa run across the continents
The Sunday morning Bengali running group was on vacation. However, everybody ran at 8 am on Sunday in a virtual Chalupa run. The first five pictures are from a few members running on the beaches of Florida, the next two are Sudakshina and Manas doing the authentic run in Atlanta and the last one is myself and my brother running in India. Apparently distance cannot separate our running together spirit….
30 December
2013
