… Took me from roadside “cha” in earthen “bhnar” to Starbucks coffee in paper glass. 7 cents for 1 ounce to 3 dollars for 12 ounces!!!
Nothing says I am back in the US like that first sip of Starbucks coffee. When the lady asked for my name, I asked her to write “Cha” in remembrance of all the tea I had in India 🙂 And she did!!! I am sure she thought I looked suspiciously unChinese for such a name!! 🙂
One more flight segment and then I am home!!!

Shot on Pandooa-Polaba road on Tuesday. This is how I remember my early days of childhood watching all my relatives till the land. I also now remember that we had five bulls – I can remember the names of four of them. Now that I have studied mathematics and all that, I have no idea why we had a odd number of bulls!!!

I particularly like the bird that got into the frame in the right bottom corner.

Here is a selfie for a few people – notably my wife and kids – who wanted to see how silly I looked in those Qatar Airways pajamas…

My friend Guruprasad Bala had a very intriguing question yesterday on one of my posts – why is it that all these funny things happen only to me? Going thru my blogsite and glancing thru past posts, it appears that these funny things also seem to happen a lot while I am in India. Now that got me thinking.

Eventually, I realized a couple of things. First, when I travel to India – especially by myself, I seem to be in a very different state of mind. I feel a far less sense of stress and responsibility. Second, that leads me to observe things more and very differently. Elsewhere, my mind would be racing to worries of the future but here, my mind seems to be in an “idling” mode. Hence the eyes don’t gloss over a silly grill in front of AC but stops there and tries to observe. Or reads an obvious junk mail and instead of deleting it somewhat irritatedly, actually finds some humor in it. Or just sits by the highway with my brother and has tea and endlessly watches the traffic instead of the usual “Chol, deri hoye jaabey” (“Let’s go! We will get delayed”)

It would appear that I come much closer to “living in the now” while in India. I actually “slow down” And that releases a very different level of energy for me. That is often as strong a driver for me to come to India as it is to see my parents. (I agree with you – maybe, I can cut down on the blogging/Facebook part 🙂 ).

And then I came to the third realization. Truthfully speaking, if I wanted to, I had plenty to worry about while in India. In which case, maybe those stress and responsibility factors are simply ruses. If I try harder, I can get myself to slow down even in US. I have to figure out how. If not for anything else, the ticket prices to India are increasing by leaps and bounds 🙂 And I do not know if I can fly so much when I am 87 🙂

But to slow down is an incredibly exhilarating feeling. Does this happen to you?

I am reminded of a poem “Slow Dance” by David Weatherford that rings very true for me right now. Unfortunately, I am guilty of each and every question he asks.

Have you ever watched kids on a merry-go-round,
or listened to rain slapping the ground?

Ever followed a butterfly’s erratic flight,
or gazed at the sun fading into the night?

You better slow down, don’t dance so fast,
time is short, the music won’t last.

Do you run through each day on the fly,
when you ask “How are you?”, do you hear the reply?

When the day is done, do you lie in your bed,
with the next hundred chores running through your head?

You better slow down, don’t dance so fast,
time is short, the music won’t last.

Ever told your child, we’ll do it tomorrow,
and in your haste, not see his sorrow?

Ever lost touch, let a friendship die,
’cause you never had time to call and say hi?

You better slow down, don’t dance so fast,
time is short, the music won’t last.

When you run so fast to get somewhere,
you miss half the fun of getting there.

When you worry and hurry through your day,
it’s like an unopened gift thrown away.

Life isn’t a race, so take it slower,
hear the music before your song is over.

So, now I have a new goal in life – how to slow down regardless of where I am!!!

By now, you know that my parents – or for that matter my sister – do not exactly look up to alcohol consumption of any kind. My mother in law is the same way. However, my father in law is willing to try out new things and has far fewer preconceived notions.
Last night, I took them out for dinner in Durgapur – along with my brother and brother in law. First thing I did of course is ordered wine. Then I asked my father in law what would he like to have. He promptly said “margarita” (he remembered the only other occasion he had tried out margarita – with me, in Memphis, TN in 1997).
Of course, my mother in law was having fits 🙂 She asked me “Angur gulo pochabar ki dorkar? Tatka khelei to hoto” (What is the bid idea letting the grapes rot (ferment); why can you not just eat them fresh) 🙂
And my father in law was getting the “third degree”. “Buro boyese bhimroti dhorechhe” and so on 🙂 He was however enjoying the drink. Which was not making things any the easier for my mother in law 🙂 Regardless, he was not going to be cowed down – not last evening at least.
My mother in law then tried some different tack – “E sob gulo kheley mota hoye jaabey” (you will become fat from the sugar in these drinks). I think she believes the tactics to scare her daughter works equally effectively on her husband and son in law 🙂
Anyways, eventually we stopped at two drinks, ordered food and normalcy returned over dinner.
The height of it all was – much later at night, when my brother and I were dropping them at their home in my brother’s car, I saw my mother in law quietly noting down the phone number from one of those seemingly ubiquitous “Mod chharan, nesha chharan, drug chharan” posters off the walls. (I think this is mostly hacks trying to sell off fraud stuff to affected parents, spouses promising to get their kids, husbands etc off any addiction – those posters are there all over in Bengal).
I could barely hold down my laughter till they left the car and went inside their house!!
It was very very funny 🙂 I know of only one Facebook friend of mine who might not find this funny at all 🙂

I had an unique experience in Kalyani a few days back that I have to tell my FB friends especially if you are not from Bengal.
And it is about catching a burglar.
Evidently, there was a burglar that was slinking from boundary wall to boundary wall near my dad’s apartment building. And the security guy in his building (coincidentally he is also called Rajib – but certainly with a lot more courage than me) spotted him, kept yelling that there is a thief nearby and then chased him down and caught him.
Now comes the best part. “Chor dhara” has a few salient points to it regardless of where in Bengal it happens.
First, once a thief is caught, it becomes a spectator show. If you yell that there is a thief in the neighborhood – other than young males, everybody locks themselves up. But if somebody yells that the thief has been caught, people of all ages and gender pour out from their houses like ants spotting a sugar hill.
Second, there is total “instant justice”. There is scant respect for the police and the judicial system. Everybody just keeps beating up the burglar. As an example, my brother went there and joined the melee. No sooner had he spotted the guy who was obviously the target of attention, he just walked up and slapped him twice!! I asked him if we were sure he was actually stealing or had stolen before. I got a long lecture back from my brother!!!
Third, the stories of what the accused has done and how he was caught gets bloated and embellished with every minute. If you join the show thirty minutes later with the usual “Ki hoyeche dada/didi”?, the impression you will gather is that there was a gang involved, most escaped however three guys (it will surely include at least one of the sons of the narrator) managed to fight back bare handed the gangs’ weapons and caught the head guy!! 🙂
Fourth, all the bravado escapes moment they have to take any responsibility. As an example, the cops eventually came. They heard everything and then picked a couple of folks who were yelling the most about what the accused has done and then asked them to come to the police station to make a formal complaint. Suddenly all those “dadas” were nowhere to be found!! Some crap about “night shift duty aachhe” or something like that!!!! 🙂