Agantuk's Desk – Explore, Implore, Reverberate – Page 5

Abhilasha

14 Jul 2018

Haachooo! Haaachoo!
Urgghh! Damn my nose and its modes of expression, said abhilasha sneezing for the 5th time.
It’s been a lazy monsoon day. The kind that’s ideal for a Bengali bhaat ghum. It was Sunday and she was missing home. Her small quiet crowded room and The Harry Potter novels.

Idle thoughts lingered in her head. She started imagining the characters and tried placing them in her life. The nose-less dark lord, what a lovely encounter it would be. A versatile evil witch without a nose. All of life problems would be solved, she thought. No nose, no cold. Cured of the most viral disease and the magic wand would do the rest. Voldemort could enjoy the lazy Bengali weather then.

While abhilasha’s thoughts lingered on voldemort and the weather, her fingers scrolled through the FB news feed. She encountered pics of little children taking their play chariots out on a rainy day. She remembered here childhood days in KolKata -Little decorated chariots with small idols and small round Bengali sweet nokuldana. Today is Rath Yatra, the time Lord Krishna goes to her maternal aunt’s house. A day of rain, traveling, religion relatives, playmates and obviously food. All unified by nature. Indeed it’s an auspicious day.

Thinking of mythology her thoughts drifted to another story. This time it was the epic Ramayana. Her running nose reminded her of surpanakha, the Lankan princess and the sister of devout Shiva worshipper Ravan. Perhaps it was a boon, after all, she thought. Laxman gave surpanakha the greatest gift. A life without a nose and hence without any troubles.
Perhaps this might even cure another Bengali ailment, nag golano ( poking your nose in other people’s business), she thought.

That way surpanakha got the greatest gift of all time. No nose, no worries. What a life it would be.

Thinking of all these made her quite sleepy and she dozed off beside the window.

Quite a troublesome and introspective girl, said the rain. It’s difficult to put her to sleep.

Sleep my child sleep. Play with those idle thoughts.
The Language Of Silence

26 Jun 2018

Little Jimmy went looking for his companion in the scorching summer heat. He had searched all the usual places but without any luck. His furry friend has been missing from the evening.
Yes, you guessed it right. Jimmy was looking for his squirrel Tom.

The quiet reticent 7th grader was devoid of any friends. All he had in the name of friends are some over-bearing dramatic animated creatures – just like the Television Shows watched by his mother. Sadly, Jimmy understood neither of them. Both his friends and his mother made little sense to him. Often, they seem comical and at other times, they are an eye-sore.

Whenever he was with them some kind of weird dramatic scenes happened. Take yesterday, for example, Jimmy had forgotten to take his notebooks to class and it was quite a scene when he ran home to get it.

As he got into his room, he saw a pot-bellied hairy gentleman getting out of his mother’s room gasping for breath. The situation seemed quite comical to Jimmy as she saw his mother pounding and getting ready in the background. However, it soon took a turn to rather gruesome experience when his mother came face to face.
“What on earth are you doing here? Why aren’t you in school?” asked a startled Mrs. Biswas.
“I came back to take my Maths Notebook. The teacher won’t budge till I hand it over. Apparently, he has a similar pounding and gasping trouble like you”, gestured Jimmy
“Well, what are you waiting for? Get going. Take your damn notebook and rush off to school”, retorted Shaileja Biswas.

This was Jimmy aka, Janardan Biswas, a quiet little mute child living with his father Mr. Jaidev Biswas and stepmother Mrs. Shaileja Biswas. Jimmy disliked most of the things about himself including his family, friends, school, home and most certainly his old-fashioned name. This is the reason why he changed his name to Jimmy. Just Jimmy without any titles, subtitles etc.
“I will be a rare specimen. Without any genus and certainly without any species name” thought Jimmy. The young boy didn’t know then that scientific names are different from proper names. To him, they were one and the same thing. Biology was never his forte and he never understood it.

But one thing delighted him the most – caricatures, cartoons and comics. He was always up for some mischief or the other with his caricatures. The kid was mute but he wasn’t dumb. He spiced up his dull life with his cartoons and sketches. Sometimes, it was the school bully being chased by an ostrich, at others, it was the headmaster having a difficult time handling his young kids.

He didn’t even leave out his parents from this equation. Her mother’s regular rendezvous will be caught in his caricatures of the fat hairy man. Even the daily episode of saas-bahu serials didn’t have it easy with him. As a result, most of the people in his life considered him to be a nuisance.

Only the squirrel made some sense to him, and he made sense to the squirrel. The squirrel’s antics never failed to amaze Jimmy. He pioneered in drawing squirrels and made a treasure trove out of those sketches. Little did he know then that this will open up the doors to another world someday. He called these collection “Sciuridae”. It was the proper name, err the scientific name of the squirrel.

Cut to the present time, this quiet little lid has metamorphosed into an adult butterfly. Jimmy has now become the renowned cartoonist Jimmy. He is still up to his usual antics of raking up of a storm with his pen. The classrooms and the home theatre has replaced high society parties, corporate functions, and other such idiosyncrasies. As usual little Jimmy celebrated them with mirth and fervor by ridiculing them all with the stroke of his pen. Here too he was widely despised but certainly can’t be disposed of, altogether. For the speechless Jimmy was indispensable and often lit up the space with his sketches, caricatures, and mimes.

Over the years a lot has changed but cartoonist Jimmy remained the same – fragile and timid, as he was 3 decades ago. Now, in his forties, Jimmy still remains the comical self whom no-one accepted. He couldn’t accept others as well. For his mother’s treachery bore a lasting impression on his mind and all the broken friendships he encountered all through his life made him more cynical.

So, here he was nursing a heart which was neither broken nor plastered but perhaps missing a valve to separate the blood from mixing. And just like the blood, his emotions too were haphazard and mixed, making him a wild goose out in the wild.

Hence, after some rather unsuccessful stints in mating and match-making, Jimmy accepted his fate. He wasn’t interested in a partner anymore – neither on or off the bed.
“Perhaps a partner in crime would be better”, he thought.
“I should get hold some con-woman, or god-woman and make some money out of her.”
While this was his state of mind, the state of his fate was something other than that.

Jimmy was in a social gathering, another high society party in the city when he came across another antique specimen like him. Reema Mishra, a young journalist who wanted to be a stand-up comedian. Reema was a quiet person like Jimmy but unlike him, she could speak.

So, one fine day while Jimmy was attending the business party, Mrs. Mehta, the hostess introduced Reema to him. Reema was blind but cynical and comical like him. From the first time they met, their unlikely likelihood brought them closer. One spoke while the other heard. One drew while the other enacted it. That’s how they complemented each other. They were one side of the same coin. Concentric circles who were fragile and incomplete around the edges but complete at the center. Together they stabilized each other’s edges.

Coming back to their awkward first meeting, this was the situation at the party when they meet.
The venue has lavishly decorated banquet hall overlooking a lush green lawn and garden area. All the people were decked in their best attires. Amidst this condition, a young lad entered the room clad in his trademark white kurta and blue denim.

He is looking for a girl, who does not know he exists or the story that has brought him here. He has no reasons to be discreet but still, he has to be careful. He is standing near the doorway and surveying the golden banquet hall, which is filled with refined bodies in saris and jackets, and beautiful young women with straight hair who never make facial expressions. But they will, soon. Any moment now.

As he made his way into the mannequin crowd, he noticed a quiet girl standing surveying the delicious spread in the buffet, all the while making weird expressions. Apparently, it was Reema explaining someone (who remained invisible) about the various things people do while eating.

Jimmy was about to move that way when Mr. Mehta called him for a chat.
“Eh, Jimmy what do you think of our new product?” asked Mr. Mehta.
“A bunch of moles has developed on my skin” gestured Jimmy.
“Making fun of our fairness cream, are you? Why don’t make a cartoon of it?” asked Mr. Mehta.
“I already have and took out of table napkin from his pocket”
“This looks familiar”, said Mr. Bhansal
It was a sketch of 2 girls – one fat, short and dark-skinned, another one slim, tall and fair. The taller one resembled Reema. Below the sketches, it was written “White Ink and Black Ink – The new age inking lotion”.
“It’s that blind journalist from the Todays News”, said Mr. Mehta
He at once took the drawing to Mrs. Mehta. Mrs. Mehta being the perfect gossip queen and neighborhood aunty immediately took to her task and spread the word like a wildfire. In no time, the whole party came to know that Jimmy had an inkling for Reema Mishra.
Well, this didn’t go down well with Reema. She was quite offended with all the gossip about her. When Mrs. Mehta introduced Reema to Jimmy, she went off with her ballistic sarcastic missiles instantly. This is where the camaraderie started.
“So, you are the new man in life” Reema sarcastically taunted Jimmy.
“Well, what can I do? I couldn’t resist the delicacies you were serving at buffet area” gestured Jimmy Mrs. Mehta conveyed the message to Reema.
“By the way, what did you draw?”
“See it for yourself”, Jimmy took her hands and touched the napkin.
As Mrs. Mehta explained the drawing Reema chronicled with her fingers and a teary-eyed smile flickered in her face. It reminded of her teenage days when she was an ugly looking fat blind girl, a burden and a bad omen for her family.
“Can I keep it?”

Jimmy put the napkin in the pocket of her coat.
That moment Jimmy knew that he had found the girl. Indeed it was Reema. Fragile, dense and cynical just like him. Their friendship went on to flourish and so did their relationship. Jimmy learned braille for Reema while Reema learned the sign language for Jimmy.

Today, they don’t require any language to communicate.

For theirs is the language of love.
The Language of Silence.
Raat

8 Jun 2018

Thought of giving a glimpse of my hindi poems.

This is a recent poem entitled “Raat” meaning “Night”

Jab subah ki zaroorat ho
Aur pindare se koi kiran na aye
Tab yeh raat kam ati hain.

Jab kinare par koi na ho
Par bhir milo tak feyli huyi ho,
Samjho raat ayi hain.

Jab tum khud mein na ho
aur khud hi mein koi aur saaya ho
Samajh lena raat dastak de rahi hain.

Jab raat ke humsafar satane lage
Aur din ke gaaliyo lautane lage
Andheri sarko pe roshni
Aur roshi pe andhera mile
Samajh lena puri ho tum.
Adhe adhe andhiyaro mein bathte huye,
Puri ho chuke ho tum.

More such poems are available on my Facebook Page.

https://www.facebook.com/Agantuk1/
Nainital, The City of Lakes

31 May 2018
Nainital, one of the pristine beauties on earth is a quintessential hill station in the North Indian state of Uttarakhand. It’s supreme for the lakes that adorn this quaint little hill station.

Originally a city of lakes, it had once numerous lakes surrounding the Nainital lake – the primary source of attraction of the region. It is this lake that founds its way in the heart of many tourists and locals and hence finds its place in various books. Namita Gokhale’s recently published historical fiction “The Things To Leave Behind” is an addition to that list. The book gives a vivid description of Nainital lake and its adjoining areas.

Pristine Naini

Bhimtal Lake (Image: Uttarakhand Tourism)

Sattal Lake (Image: Uttarakhand Tourism)

Apart from Naini, there’s Bhimtal, Khurptal, Sattal, Shymaltal, and Naukhuchiatal that comprises the list of 60 lakes adorning the region. All the lakes are set amongst the mystical Himalayan Mountains and have a fair share of folklore associated with it.

History and Origin of The Place

Nainital, the name is derived from the Sanskrit word ‘Nain’ meaning eye. Legend has it that Sati’s eye had fallen on this part of the land and hence it became a holy ground for Hindu pilgrims all over the world.

Sati Temple (Image: Nainital Tourism)

Naina Devi Temple (Image: Native Planet)

Consequently, the lake has a Naina Devi temple on the northern side dedicated to Lord Shiva and Sati, known as Naina Devi in this part of India. It’s considered to be one of those pious places (Sati Peeth) where Sati’s body parts had fallen.

Other legends and folklore attribute the Lake’s origin to Verses from the Skanda Puran (sacred texts) where it’s stated that some sages had come to the place in search of water and subsequently had dug a hole to usher in water from the Manasarovar. The success of these 3 sages, Pulastya, Pulaha and Atryi created Nainital.

Climate & Accessibility

Nainital’s pear-shaped lake bounded by the ethereal Himalayas attracts tourists all through the year. Its pleasant climate makes it an ideal destination for people. The average temperature here is 15-18 ̊C with the highest being 27 ̊C and the lowest 10 ̊C.

Kathgodam Station (Image: eUttaranchal)

The place is quite well known and is easily accessible by road. The nearest railway station is Kathgodam, just about 34km from Nainital. Regular trains ferry passengers from Delhi, Howrah, Lucknow to this station.

The capital of the state Dehradun lies at a distance of 286km and takes about an 8hours ride to reach via the NH34 Highway. Trains are available at regular intervals from Dehradun to Khathgodam.

Pantnagar Airport (Image: Musafirnamah)

Pantnagar Airport is the nearest airport which takes about 1-hour ride from the city. Nainital lies within 22kms of Soulitude which is near the Tagore Top region in the Nainital-Mukhteswar highway.

Soulitude- Tagore Top ( Image: TripAdvisor)

Places To Explore

The chief tourist attraction of the Naini is the Naini Peak which offers a breath-taking view of the town. Just about 6 Kilometers from Mallital, this peak stands tall at height of 2611m and is the highest peak of the region.

Naini Peak (Image: Noble House Tours)

Map of Nainital Lake

If you are done with trekking it’s best you take the cable car ride across the hill. The glistening sunlight reflecting waters at the ends of the lakes (known as Tallital and Mallital) is to die for.

Mallital (Image: Tourmet)

The lake with its activities (Image: Uttarakhand Tourism)
1. The region is famous for nature lovers, photographers, and adventure junkies.
2. Boating, horse riding, trekking and rock climbing are some of the adventure sports that people enjoy here.
3. Apart from all this the town itself has some attractive places like the Nainital Zoo, Eco Cave Garden etc.
Aryabhatta Observatory ( Image: PlacesMap.net)

4. For astronomers and stargazers, this place offers a special treat. Not only does it offer you a golden opportunity to bring out your telescope and gaze out into the night sky but the place also has an observatory which you can visit. The Aryabhatta Research Institute of Observational Sciences is the place to visit.

5. For the wildlife enthusiasts, it has a no. of sanctuaries up its sleeves. This includes the Sonanadi Wildlife Sanctuary and the Pangot & Kilbury Bird Sanctuary.

Pangot Sanctuary (Image: Makemytrip.com)

6. The famous Corbet National Park is just about 5 hrs ride from Nainital and covers a distance of 151km.

How To Get The Pahari Feel?

Now, if you aren’t satisfied just with the natural beauty of the place and want to get the local feel then take a ride across the town. Explore the locality to soak its intricate feel.

When in a hill station do as the Pahari’s do. So get a taste of the local cuisine from the various roadside shops. Check out their art and crafts.

The bustling market (Image : eUttaranchal)

A ride on the mall road (Image: Nainital Tourism)

Go on a shopping spree at Tibetian Market, Mall Road, and Bara Baar. When you return tired and exhausted unwind with a hot cuppa from the Café Chica, Shakley’s Restaurant and Pastry Shop, Embassy and other famous places.

Local Delicacies (Image: Nainital.org)

Embassy Restaurant (Image: TripAdvisor)

The Best Time To Visit

Nainital is a revered place and top tourist destination for people all over the world. Hence, it’s best to skip the rush hours and visit during the off-season of winter when the town is covered with mild snowfall. December-February is the ideal time to pay a visit in order to enjoy the best of both worlds.

So, overall Naini still retains some of its old-world charms and unwinding on its alleys gives out a rustic effervescent feeling. Explore the city and relive the essence of Uttarakhand!
The Jasmine Tree

24 May 2018

Grandma lived in a skanky little room overlooking a garden. There was a jasmine tree in the courtyard whose branches made its way through the window sill, filling the room with an effervescent fragrance. The room was full of memories. Some of them decorated the walls with odd photographs while others decked the table and the bookshelves.

The photographs were quite odd as they were all parts of a body but without a face. It’s was always a boy without a face. Sometimes, it was a hand climbing over the walls or tracing the hinges of a book, at others there was a pensive man looking at a window with a pen in his hands. If one gazed long enough at the photographs they can recognize the window. It was the same jasmine flowers window.

Grandma or Mrs. Rosalind, as she was called in this part of the world guarded the room like a fortress. She never let anybody in. Often we joked that it’s a Bermuda triangle where you can get in but can’t get out alive. But there was an exception to this rule. Once in a while, someone did get in and out of this Bermuda triangle. It was little Tammy living across the street.

Tammy was my classmate and my erstwhile nemesis from school. Tammy and I went to the same school, Julian Day School. He was an average student who excelled in story-telling whereas I, the class-topper gaped at his skill stupidly. Apart from his stupendous talent, there’s one more thing that made him the subject of my envy. It was his uninhibited access to my grandmother’s room. While I and my brothers were deprived of our grandma’s treasures, Tammy enjoyed it to the fullest and even flaunted it in school in his famous story-telling sessions. Every Saturday tammy and grandma would have their secret rendezvous in that skanky room.

One day, I took the help of a ladder and peered over the window sill to get a glimpse of the secret meeting. Grandma was conversing with Tammy in a hushed voice with a photograph in hand. As I leaned forward to hear their words, I slipped and fell off the ladder. My mother rushed in and as usual, I got a heavy scolding.

However, this little misadventure didn’t deter me from the pursuit of grandma’s secret as I grew more curious and one day, at school I overheard Tammy telling a familiar story.

“She picked up the radiogram picture and marveled at her discovery. A dark cross on a white background is all that it showed. Yet it was all that she could ask for. It was a masterstroke in understanding the very basis of the world”, read Tammy.

It was a story of a pioneer scientist not getting her due credits. While he read the story and told it in his strange voice, it reminded of grandma. The girl in the story was just like grandma – a headstrong character who spoke few words but always believed in her convictions. Even the descriptions and styling had an uncanny resemblance.

That night I asked grandma about this girl named Rose, some sort of science geek who bore a strong resemblance to her. Grandma smiled and said, “Yes, I know her”.

“Who is it? Do I know her?”
“Maybe, Maybe not”, she mumbled.
“She sounds like you, Grandma.”
“Well, I am her and She is me”, she murmured
“Is this your story?”

Grandma didn’t reply. She left the scene without much of a word.

Many years passed by, the little kids have grown up now and the old souls left their final impressions in them. Children turned out to be old souls now. 5 decades down the line, little Tammy and Rita have grown up to be fine a couple.

Our rivalry has given away to a lifelong story-telling. While Tammy became an acclaimed author, I conquered my grandmother’s wish. I have become a scientist now and together we are telling new stories – stories of discoveries and inventions. Just like our Grandma.
Indeed Rose and Rosalind were one and the same. 2 faces of the same coin, 2 sides of the same story. The same soul living in different bodies.

As it turns out we were all under a spell. The spell of a scientist was cast on us. Our grandmother was that scientist, the story-teller. Grandma’s real name was never Rosalind. She adopted that name from her favorite scientist Rosalind Franklin, her role model. In many ways, little Rose was quite like Rosalind – born 20 years apart. So, Rose became Rosalind and Rosalind became Rose.

Grandma studied hard and did well in her studies but family constraints didn’t let her reach the pinnacle. So, instead of being a high performing scientist like Rosalind Franklin, she became an accomplished story-teller. She floored the audience with her baffling skills and made any story believable. Thus started the journey of the scientific story-teller – telling the stories of discoveries and inventions.

Grandma wrote stories about path-breaking scientific discoveries and tested them on Tammy. This is what went to the secret meeting. The Rose in Tammy’s story was pioneer scientist Rosalind Franklin, credited with the discovery of DNA. Grandma wrote Franklin’s story for young kids like us but included a little spark and fantasy in it. Thus, Rosalind Franklin became Rose in Grandma’s story and looked just like her. Now as I read it, I believe Grandma relived her dream in her stories. It was here where she became a scientist.

Being a scientist who is married to an author has opened up new avenues for me. Today I know the importance of story-telling in science. That’s the reason why a scientist’s grandson has become a writer today, while a writer’s grand-daughter became a scientist. Our grandparents planned this all. Tammy’s grandfather and my grandmother were lovers who had lover’s tiff with this world. Those photographs on grandma’s wall were of Tammy’s grandfather. They couldn’t be together and fulfill their dream of marrying science with literature. So they passed this on to their grandchildren.

Tammy and I, represented literature and science. Too different categories but one and the same. Today, those secret rendezvous makes perfect sense to me. It was a ploy to prepare us for this life. Grandma nurtured my curiosity by making me venture out while she builds the essence of scientific story-telling in Tammy.

Today when I read those stories I wonder who is a scientist and who is a story-teller. How can you differentiate between the two? Science is not just about experiments and laboratories, it’s an art. A story-telling itself. A vocation. In our laboratories, we are enacting and rehearsing those stories before we present it to the world, in the form of published work. Meanwhile, an author is thinking and imploring the reason behind those research and making it approachable to others. In one way, he too is a scientist discovering and inventing new ideas.

Who was telling the story? And whose story was it anyway? The words fluttered and flew in the wind. And it’s these winds that connected the two. The winds of change that made a scientist out of a curious girl and an author out of an introspecting boy. A change that opened the doors of literature to a boy and the world of science to a girl.
The roles have been reversed. They very society which didn’t let Rose become a Rosalind and for which James became Jim, the same society have created Rita and Tammy.

Tammy sometimes reminiscence his first meeting with Grandma.

“I remember visiting your house without my mother. We came to invite you to a family function but nobody was home except Rosalind”.

Tammy always called grandma by her first name. It was grandma’s idea. They were best of friends – 2 writers on an inquisitive pursuit. This is another strange feature of the writer’s world, they belong to the world and the world belongs to them. They don’t need to build a friendship as they are the last refuge of all. This is the where a scientist fails but a writer triumphs. Perhaps, this is the reason why marrying the two is necessary and might be the reason behind their successful coupling. Nevertheless, let’s continue with the story.

Well, an 8-year-old Tammy came to our house when nobody was at home except Granny. While Rosalind tended to her neighbors, Tammy grew restless and ventured out.

“I had almost destroyed Rosalind’s garden. Plucked all the flowers and tramped over the plants. However, the jasmine tree was saved”, said Tammy.
“Drawn by its fragrance, I sat beneath the tree scribbling something.”
“While they searched all over the house I scribbled on the mud and drew some arbitrary shapes. Crooked layered triangles, pierced circles –all where there in the scribbling.”
“So, what happened next? What did Granny say?” I asked.
“She said nothing, She just came over and looked at my drawings. While my mother started scolding Rosalind took me to her room and let me sit beside the window”, replied Tammy.
“There, she went on to show me the pictures of young Jim, my grandpa, and then we looked at the pictures of the globe and the prism. Apparently, I had drawn a prism and a globe beneath that jasmine tree.”
“So, that was the key to Granny’s secret. Jasmine tree and scribbling of scientific wonder. No wonder why I didn’t get through it”, I laughed
“Gradually, the visits became regular and she started telling more and more stories. Often letting me read her stories and advised me to rehearse it. That’s where my training began. From the jasmine tree to the apple tree – the stories flooded and I learned about Newton’s gravity, Copernicus’s theory, Galileo, Darwin and many more”

Now, when I ponder over this interaction of 8-year-old Tammy and 70-year-old Rosalind, I know where the way is. The path lies within us. It lies hidden in our curiosities, our restlessness. We all have a jasmine tree inside us.
The only thing that hampers its blossoming is the closed window.
The window is missing. It needs to be opened.
From RiNGs to RINGS

18 Apr 2018

A heavy down pouring and a quiet little desolate café. Mr. Bagchi was picking up the broken pieces when Nalini came in.

“What happened?” enquired Mr. Bagchi.
“I didn’t make it through” Nalini frowned.

Nalini was Mr. Bagchi’s last hope, the only family he had. 17-year-old Nalini was a happy go lucky girl who aspired to be an astrophotographer. Nalini was an orphan. Her parents died in a car accident when she was 5 years old. Since then, her grandfather has single-handedly brought her up. They are each other’s last resort.

Now, this young aspiring astrophotographer has been running pillar to post to get hold of a job so that she can help her grandfather and purchase a good quality camera for herself. Being a science student her enthusiasm for the world of science knows no bounds, especially when it comes to astronomy and space.

However, unlike others of her class she doesn’t want to be a physicist or an engineer rather she aspires to be a microbiologist. She wants to tame both the worlds – the world outer space and the world of tiny micro-organisms. She wants to be a microbiologist who is an astrophotographer. One is the love of her life while the other is her passion. So, she was taking one step at a time towards fulfilling her dreams.

Nalini has been giving interviews for any kinds of prospective job. From content writing to photography to volunteering – she had tried all avenues but without any luck. Her age and educational qualification seem to be a problem. People wanted a 12th pass graduate whereas she was still in the 11th standard Today, she went looking for an apprentice job in a bookstore nearby but alas here too she was rejected.

2 weeks passed by since then, Nalini went about her usual ways – studying and helping her grandfather run the café. She was taking an order at a table when she overheard a gentleman’s conversation.

“We need a fresh face for this advertisement. A bubbly girl who looks like a book nerd”, said Akash.
“Can’t we use anyone from this lot? These 2 girls seem good”, said Rajeev.
“Well, they are good but not what I am looking for. That exuberance and maturity are missing”, said Akash.
“She should speak of science as if she is a scientist traveling in this unknown world. That what I want”, he added.
“Well, I am afraid we have to hire those ugly looking nerds then. Beauty and brains don’t go together. You have to compromise at some point”, said Rajeev.
“Let’s take another round of audition. Tomorrow afternoon in college. Let’s start at the very beginning and a very good place to start”, said Akash.
“Now, you are quoting The Sound of Music! Good going. Too much of a hassle for a 30000 rupees advertisement shoot”, said Rajeev.

With this ended their conversation and ran for their next lecture.
“Such prejudiced people. What a waste of talent”, thought Nalini and went about her usual work.

That night Nalini lied wide awake in bed, tossing and turning, and thinking about those young lads. Does she have a chance? She might not be beautiful but surely she can look the part. After all, she has scientific knowledge and looks like a geek. She decided to give it a shot.

The next day, she asked her grandfather about them. They were frequent visitors to the café and surely Mr. Bagchi knew them.

“Ah! Those two – Akash and Rajeev. They are always onto some filming stuff but they study architecture in college, I think”, said Mr. Bagchi
“How do you know all this Grandpa?” asked Nalini.
“Well, it says Srinath College of Architecture. Doesn’t it?” asked Mr. Bagchi flashing the i-cards.

Just the thing Nalini needed. She instantly ran up to the college. She remembered that the auditions were taking place today. But, alas! She was 5mins late the auditions were over at 2 pm. Somehow she managed to convince the authorities to let her in. Everyone was reluctant to allow her, except Akash.

Soon, she was selected for the role. The director of the advertisement was Akash himself. Akash Bhatia and Rajeev Mishra were 2 young architect aspirants who had their heart in filmmaking. The 20-year-olds made short films promoting social awareness. This time they were shooting an advertisement showcasing partnership of science and architecture. So, Nalini Bagchi started working with Akash and Rajeev for a meager monthly salary of 5000 rupees.

While they wanted to marry science and architecture, it’s another love story that took off that day. The happy-go-lucky science geek had found her match in the introvert Akash. Together, they painted the town red. It’s as if new buildings came up every day and Akash found a new home in it. As for Nalini, Akash made her feel hysterical. With him she is not herself, she is someone else. A different but better version of herself. With him, she became a woman and with her, he became a man.

On weekends they would shoot their advertisement series and during the week they would catch up after college. Soon the film was complete but their relationship wasn’t. It stood the test of time. Nothing could separate the 2 lovebirds – neither Rajeev’s conspiracy nor Mr. Bagchi’s apprehension. 5 years went by, Akash completed his studies and Nalini set out for her microbiology course in another city. By now she had a camera of her own and was pursuing her hobby.

Nalini moved to a new city with her boyfriend. While Akash got placed in an architecture firm in Chennai, Nalini got into a prestigious college for her Master’s Degree. The crowd of Chennai seems quite a shock for Nalini. Delhi to Chennai was a huge change for her.

Not just the atmosphere and the language but the people also seemed to quite different than what she had imagined. But Nalini never despaired. For her, it was a new beginning, a new life with Akash. A way to build their dream world, their dream house.

But Akash has changed since they moved here. He isn’t his usual self anymore. He became negligent and forgetful. He started keeping secrets from her. He wouldn’t meet her for days and always found an excuse to leave early when they met. Soon Nalini found out the truth about Akash.

Rajeev was right, Akash indeed was a womanizer. He has been leading a dual life all this while. He already had a girlfriend in Chennai. Now, she understood why Akash was eager to move to Chennai rather than going for that lucrative job in Bombay. He wasn’t missing Nalini. He was missing Prajakta and wanted to be closer to him. In fact, all this was a time pass. A stop-gap arrangement till he was in Delhi, away from his real girlfriend.

After knowing this Nalini broke up with Akash. Thus began the beginning of a beautiful ending.

(more…)
The Role Play

31 Mar 2018

Hello! I am Sujata. Most of you know me as an award-winning writer Julian Davis but in reality, I am Sujata, Sujata Mendes. You probably heard this name before. Remember the Bengali writer Subodh Ghosh’s legendary story about the love life of an untouchable girl “Sujata”. Well, I am that Sujata. Still doesn’t ring a bell, eh? Oh! How silly of me, I should have named the movie instead. Remember the Nutan and Sunil Dutt starer film directed by Bimal Roy. Yes, now you have got it. I am that Sujata only with a different history and a less light baggage.

Well, this Sujata’s story begins in the IT hub of the country, Bangalore. This fat little girl, yes, that’s me lived in a populated seemingly eco-friendly but human unfriendly city with her parents. Unlike the other Sujata, I belonged to a loving family who possessed all the luxuries of the world. Well almost all, except a pet. My father was quite afraid of pets. Having bitten by his pet dog at a young age, he grew resentful towards. So here I was ridiculed by my friends and devoid of any pet friends. But I did have some FRIENDS and those are my refuge.

Powered by these limbless colorful creatures I went about my usual business. While others needed vehicles to travel I had my own 2-wheelers for that purpose. The limbless colorful friends again came handy. Yes, I am talking about those books. So, there I was traveling the world and living my life.

Gradually, the years passed by and the lonesome girl turned out to be a tomboyish girl who had no fear in this world. It was during this time when I came across the love of my life Rakesh. He was a funny young man with an eccentric way of looking into life trivialities. While I was a hopeless romantic, he was a useless unromantic fellow obsessed with astronomy. Did I mention my obsession? Well, it was volcanoes. While he was a failed astronomer, I was a failed geologist and together we made a fine dysfunctional couple.

Our parents were quite happy to get rid of us and hence they wasted no time getting us hitched in a pious ceremony filled with unholy people. So, there you go within 6 months our acquaintance we were man and wife or perhaps woman and husband, whichever way you may want to look at it. Now, this failed geologist and failed astronomer were on their usual business – the business of slogging hours in front of a lighted screen and called it “Research”. While he was busy saving the IT world from bugs, I was busy saving hapless blokes getting ditched by beautiful girls. In that sense, the writer’s world and the engineer’s world was perfectly compatible. We were getting along as a house on fire.

All was well until the deal breaker turned up. It was an imperfectly perfect summer afternoon, I was busy doing the dishes and thinking the plot of a new novel while he slogged for hours on the ESPN. “Kring, Kring” rang the doorbell. The sound itself gave away who it was. It’s time to let in the guests.

So there it was, a pot-bellied gentleman and a potbellied lady along with their angel like good for nothing kids grinning at me, with a “we are here to screw you” look. I wanted to throw a fit and instantly escape through the balcony but good sense prevailed and I said,

“Namaste Uncle, welcome home.” My summer holidays were up for a toss and so did the idea of a novel. The next few days went with the usual “Atithi Devo Bhava” routine.
“Where’s your mandir?” asked the pot-bellied lady.
“Ummm. I do not believe in God”, I murmured reluctantly.
I was scared to tell her that I have no time for this hara-kiri. But as usual, the lady won’t budge.
So she went onto ask my husband who gave a funny expression and a green signal for the mandir. Within 3 days I had a mandir in my house with more than 10 different Gods on display each having a separate day of worship.

Well, the gods turned out to be the least of my trouble, it was the mortals who were breathing on my neck. Cooking for the Gods was a different task altogether. Apparently, you can’t feed them the same thing. Each one of them followed a different routine. While some wanted milk, others wanted sweets cooked in ghee. Some wanted bananas while others needed date palms and coconuts. I was beginning to feel like a wholesale fruit-seller and the pot-bellied lady a local fruit shop owner. That makes the Gods regular customers.

“Where is the coconut?”
“Did you bring the date palms?”
“You must make besan ladoos tomorrow.”
These were regular instructions that came with the package.
So the fruit-selling business was going on pretty well with occasional rebuttals from either side until that eventful summer weekend.
There were some awful happenings associated with Bruno, my pet cat. Yes, I had a furry feline now full with 2 pairs of limbs. The times of the limbless colorful pet was long gone. Now, this feline friend of mine found the melons quite happening and started to play with them. I was busy slogging in front of the computer that night and didn’t pay any heed to her misgivings.

As luck would have it, Bruno went on a rummage in the Gods’ resting place, wrecking a havoc in my world. I woke up with a dizzy head and some loud noise emanating from the living room.
“Bahu, look what your beloved Bruno has done” taunted the pot-bellied woman.
“Now, what has she done?” I enquired with a sleepy voice.
“She rummaged the mandir and ate all melons”
“It doesn’t matter. I’ll get you new ones tomorrow. Use something else instead.”
“No, it won’t too. It’s part of Tuesday’s special offering.”
Apparently, the Gods had special days of offerings, it’s not like our regular “Rice and lentil” diet. So the tussle went on until Rakesh came back with some new melons. All was well until the next happening.

I thought the tide had stemmed down but it was indeed the silence before a storm. That night Bina Aunty made it clear that she won’t have our liberal ways of living. She wanted Bruno out of the house and her mandir left at her own will. As usual, I didn’t budge this time.

When it comes to choosing between a crazy lady and an insane cat, I had made my bed with the cat. So the priority was pretty much set. The condition came to such a pass that it became a do or die situation.

“You shouldn’t have pets in the house they aren’t good for vastu,” said Uncle.
“Do away with her, have some plants instead”, he added.
“Yes, let’s have a garden on our balcony”, exclaimed my upbeat husband.
“Do whatever you want but I want that cat out of the house”, ordered Bina Aunty.
“It’s either me or her”, she said.
“Then it better be her. I would rather have an insane cat than a crazy aunt”, I retorted.
Seeing the situation turning bitter, Rakesh suggested a viable alternative.
“Let’s think of it this way Sujata. How about we keep the cat chained to a position?”
“Obviously not. I wouldn’t think of it in a nightmare. This isn’t a zoo, it’s a house. Her house.”
”It is a zoo and you are the rarest animal in this zoo”, said the lady.
“And you are an antique from the museum”, I retorted.
Bruno seemed to purr in agreement of my statement.

So, the tussle went on and on with no solution in sight. That night Rakesh and I had our first fight. Well, first fight post marriage that is. All because of my feline friend or the crazy old lady.

Unable to handle this Rakesh left the house in search of world peace and eventually landed in my parent’s house. So, as usual, I woke up to a phone call from my father.
As with all men so it with these two noble gentlemen. They were happily going about their world of political discussions while I was sulking at home.
“Cut him some slack”, said my father.
“The poor guy is caught in a rift between you 2. How can you choose between his mother-like aunt and his beloved wife? Pay heed to his suggestion. It’s just a temporary arrangement. As soon as they leave Bruno will be back in your bed.”
“They are never going to leave. You have no idea what is happening there. Already 3months have passed by. They said they were here for a month. They will never leave. NEVER “, I grinned.
I left grudging, leaving my husband behind. The afternoon went by and he still didn’t come back.

That night I slept alone, a first since my marriage. I was tossing this side and that side and lied sleepless on the soft mattress, missing him dearly. I was both furious and angry with him. Sleep seemed to have been eluding me. So I started writing the novel instead.

“She opened her bleary eyes when the cat, all seven pounds of squirming flesh, climbed onto her belly. Squinting into the sunlight streaming in from the open window, she discovered that she was now the weary possessor of a pounding headache, and at some point, had managed to lose both a tooth and a spouse.” I stopped typing. I was reading the paragraph and cursing my own foolishness.

How stupid I have been. I was indeed getting too far with this. Fighting over a silly issue and losing both my tooth and my husband along the process. There’s no need of this hullabaloo. I could easily make way with this new arrangement. If all else fails I can live with my parents for a few days.
“But Pappa is afraid of them”, I thought.
“Oh, wait a minute he said he won’t allow any pets but he didn’t tell what kind of pets.”
“Maybe it’s just the dog he is afraid of. He might allow Bruno.”

The following day I called it a truce and agreed to agreement. Rakesh came back and our first successful fight was over in a day. But this time Bina Aunty wouldn’t have it. She wanted a relief from this city and its animals including Bruno. So, the next morning Rakesh went running about the station in search of a ticket. It finally happened on the next day. That is on Tuesday.

What the gods couldn’t do, Bruno did it in a week. In a matter of 3 days, the “Atithi” was gone but the “Devtas” remained.

Bina Aunty still instructs me every week over the phone.

She and I have continued the fight.

We both live in the museum now and are still going about the fruit-selling business.

Once a fruit-seller always a fruit-seller.
The Calcutta Syndrome : Tiretti

19 Mar 2018
Calcutta has always been a city of confluence. It’s a river city flanked by settlements buried in the treasuries of the past. Much like the river it trails, Calcutta too has witnessed many different habitats – the Jewish, the Parsis, the Christians, the Armenians, the Chinese, the Mughals, the Bengalis, the Marwaris, the Sindhis – all form a part of the Calcutta Chromosome. Being the erstwhile capital of the British Empire and famous trade point at that time, Calcutta harbors a rich heritage much of it is intrinsic to its people and found in the city even today. The Calcutta syndrome is symbolic of these intrinsic identities of the place.

. A Chinese Carpentry Shop at Tiretti

As you go about the city, you will witness this unity in diversity. Each part is endemic to a certain type of people and gradually as the demography changes so do the food, heritage and the outlook of the people. While the north boasts of the exquisite Bengali culture, the central region has been home to Chinese, the Jewish, the Parsis etc.

The caretaker of Toong On Church

Some community members in conversation

The caretaker of Nam Soon Church

The Lion Dance

The Old World

Here, in the central region of the city one can find the oldest China town in the country. The settlements started in the 18th century when Tong Achew came in search of trade land for his sugar business. The then Governor General of India Warren Hastings gave him a land near Budge-Budge which is now famously known as Achipur. Recently, they celebrated 300 years of Chinese settlements on 18th March 2018. Despite the failure in business, the Chinese community survived in Calcutta and several of them still reside in the bylanes of Tiretti, the old china town. Many of them have shifted to the east of the city, called Tangra but still, this old block retains the old world charm. this has made Calcutta, the only city with 2 China Towns.

The bylanes of Old China Town

Now coming to the place and it’s culture, Tiretti, our own little china town has survived through ages of the onslaught and it still does despite the difficulties in retaining it. The ethnic temples of the locality bear testimonial to that. There are 6 Chinese temples or churches in this area, of which the oldest one Nam Soon dates back to 1821. Much of these churches retain their old world charm dignified by old customs and rituals.

Inside the Nam Soon Church

The Buddha Statue at Toong On Church

Decorations at the Church

Utensils used at the church

The Old Calcutta Chinese Churches
The 6 churches (with their adresses) are :
- Toong On: 22 Black burn lane (in the alley of Garbage Dump of the municipality just before the Telephone Exchange). This place housed the first chinese restuarant of India, Nan King which was frequented by bollywood icons like Raj Kapoor and Dilip Kumar.
  
  Toong On Church, 22 Black burn lane
  
  They hang the lettuce as a good omen during the new year celebrations. Offering lettuce to the Lions at the Lion Dance is an important ritual. It started when Himalayan Lions descended on Chinese villages destroying habitats. They feed them and worshipped them to ward them off. The tradition survives in the form of feeding them lettuce and worshipping them. Imagine a vegetarian Lion!!
  
  Inside the Toong On Church, 22 Black burn lane
  
  a portrait, inside the church
  
  some more photographs
  
  KWAN TI, the warrior god
  
  KWAN TI, the warrior
  
  the wooden frame inside the church
- Sea-Ip: 22/1 Chhatawala Gulee, Kol -73 (Behind the Telephone Exchange beside Tung Nam restaurant)
  Sea Ip Church, 22/1 Chhatawala Gulee, Kolkata-73
  
  Tung Nam Restaurant (beside Sea Ip)
  
  The idol inside the church
  
  The wooden hanging inside the church
  
  Prayers inside the church
- Choonghee Dhong Thien Haue: Damzen and Black burn lane crossing, take the alley right of Sei Vui restaurant, (17 Black burn lane, in an alley opposite Telephone exchange), then again turn right
  Choonghee Haue Church. RJ Deepanjan Ghosh in action
  
  The Makers of the church
  
  inside the church
  
  chinese inscriptions
  
  inscriptions inside the church
  
  a blossoming inside the church
- Nam Soon: (turn left after Choonghee, pass by the butcher’s shop, turn right walk straight to an old house with 1905-1982 inscription, it’s beside that.
  Nam Soon Church
  
  The old building beside Nam Soon with 1902-1982 timeline
  
  Kids with their lion dance on premises of the church
  
  The Chinese Calendar
  
  The Wooden Wall Hanging at the church
  
  A young lady praying at the church
  
  KWAN YIN, the goddess of war
  
  The Tusu Weapons, The Gong and The Bell at the church
- Gee Hing Church beside Chen’s Carpentry at 13 Black Burn Lane. it’s an old tattered building with a side gate. Here you will get to see the Mah Jong set.
  The Nameless Church Beside Chen’s Carpentry
  
  Chen’s Carpentry
  
  Inside the church
  
  Dr. Chong with his local version of Mah Jong set
  
  Dr. Chong arranging the set.
- Sea Voi Yune Leong Futh below the Hupeh Association signboard beside Sei Vui restaurant at 17 Black Burn Lane. It borders the restaurant and remains closed only visible from the gate.
  The Hupeh Association signboard
  
  The church below it
  
  Inside the church
  
  Sei Vui Restaurant
The People

The churches are an intimate affair and generally ruled by a specific community and different community have different clubs represented by different churches. Similar to the Indian society, they too have profession based class division. Hence, each community represents a different profession. For example, the Hupehs are dentists. In Calcutta, most of the Chinese communities are either tanners or dentists. The need of the hour has diversified the profession and hereditary lineage is broken but much of the genealogy dates back to these 2 professions. Despite the odds, these people are thriving with their amicable nature, the prowess of business ( many of them have become connoisseurs of Chinese Cuisine) and quintessential Indian-ness.

A brushmaker in the locality

The Co-existence

Here you will find a different China quite unlike the actual Chinese people of China. It’s an Indian China or Calcutta China if one can call it that way. Here, the common folk still regard Sun Yan as the Chinese Premiere, at a time when Xi Jinping has gained a lifetime Chinese Presidentship in China. Mahatma Gandhi and Sun Yat-Sen (The Chinese Mahatma) decorate the walls and below it, a group of elderly gentleman reads a Chinese Newspaper- their very own self-published daily newspaper, the oldest surviving Chinese newspaper of Calcutta. Perhaps of India as well.

Mahatma Gandhi and Sun Yat-Sen portraits inside the Sea-Ip church

The oldest surviving Chinese newspaper of Calcutta (of India perhaps)

look at the date, it’s just before the new year (16th Feb)

Much like the Bengali tradition of remembering one’s forefather at the onset of the Durga Puja, these people have a similar tradition of sending good wishes in the form of burning scrolls at the onset of the Chinese New Year.

The paper scroll used for burning

The ritual of burning scrolls

Place where the burnt scrolls are kept

Their worshipping nature is quite similar to us with different lords serving a different purpose, such as Kwan Ti – the warrior king who later became the warrior god. Similarly, there are other gods signifying wealth, health, death etc.

A portrait of KWAN TI, inside Sea-Ip Church

The Chinese New Year

The Chinese New Year holds a special significance as it is during this time, this world comes alive – with jubilant lion dances, intricate personal prayers and a community that opens its gates to the public.

A lion dance march

Kids with their lion dance preparations

It is on one such Chinese new year I embarked on a heritage walk through these known-unknown myriad alleys of tiretti. The Chinese New Year follows a lunar cycle and generally, the year begins somewhere in the middle of February. In the Chinese system, each year represents a special animal which is a particular zodiac sign. 2018 is the year of the dog which stands for loyalty, faithfulness, honesty and other such qualities. There are 12 such zodiac signs each representing an animal and its qualities. Unlike other zodiac signs, the Chinese zodiac signs are determined by your birth year alone and not by the birth month.

The Chinese Zodiac Signs, Image : Devian Art

The Heritage Walk

Now, coming back to the heritage walk, this unique venture was part of India Heritage Walk Festival conducted by Sahapedia in association with The Cha Project. It comprised of 25 heritage enthusiasts trailing the city in the early hours with their group leader RJ Deepanjan Ghosh and heritage blogger Ranjan Datta along with Cha Project’s Rinkoo Bhowmick. We trailed through the bylanes of Tiretti Bazaar, in Central Avenue, Central Calcutta to find 6 beautiful churches with an astonishing craftsmanship on display. Many of them remain remote and hidden from plain sight due to civic problems like garbage dumping ground. The churches lie on either side of Blackburn Lane in and around The BSNL Telephone Exchange Bhavan.

So, if you want to witness the Calcutta Chromosome then visit these isolated hamlets in the early morning or during the time of the festival – that is the new year. While you are at it gorge on some authentic Chinese delicacies and maybe go on a shopping spree as well. The area is home to the iconic Pou Chong Sauces, an indigenous Chinese store selling Chinese cooking products at a handful of the price.

P.S. Pou Chong Sauces have opened a new takeaway restaurant near Acropolis Mall, Ruby in rajdanga road which serves authentic Chinese delicacies such as dimsums and baos.

The Pou Chong Takeaway Outlet at Kasba

A glimpse of the Menu

Image: Pou Chong Sauces FB Page

Note: Don’t miss the early morning Tiretti Breakfast of home cooked Chinese delicacies. It happens in Tiretti Bazaar every Sunday morning from 5:00am -8:00am.

The Food

The Chinese Cuisine is an assimilation of various techniques and culture and varies throughout the length and breadth of the nation. In India, especially in Calcutta, the north-western cuisine that is the Cantonese cuisine dominates and it is this we witness here as Chinese delicacies. In fact the most famous restaurant in the area, Tung Nam means “North-West” and serves Cantonese delicacies. The cuisine is based on the rich color that they display and each of it depicts a certain quality. For example, the red color denotes fertility, the green stands for abundance, golden spring roll denotes wealth etc. In a Chinese family, they sit together and eat all the delicacies in small portions without changing the utensils after every course.

Inside Tung Nam

P.S. Restaurants remain closed during the Chinese new year

Speaking of restaurants from the area, a new gem is added to the list. The Sei Vui restaurant, an erstwhile dormitory (110-year-old) for Chinese migrant workers has opened up at 17 Black Burn Lane. The restaurant borders the church and is the best way to locate the Leong Futh Church. It serves delicacies like the Hoikin Noodles, Momos, Fish with Pak Choy in Chou Sui, Prawn in Black Sauce etc. and it remains open even in the Chinese New Year.

Inside the restaurant

FISH WITH PAK CHOY IN CHOU SUI. Source: Sei Vui Restuarant

Hoikin Noodles

The Leisure Game

Let’s Play

The Chinese game of Mah Jong or a local variant of it will add eons to your life. Witness this wonder here and match the blocks to sharpen your memory and concentration power. To know more about this local game watch this video.

Rising Above The Tide

The old world does reside in us and it is these roadside tanneries, brushmakers, handmade shoemakers, drum-makers who bring them alive.

The drum-makers

The shoemakers

Sewing Machine used by the shoemakers

The shoemakers of the locality

Much like our prayers, our livelihood is also the same. It’s the business of belonging – of being relevant- of keeping our head above the running waters that keep us alive.

We pray alike

It is this which we look forward to, in our small little sojourns.

Special Thanks To :
1. Dominic Lee of the Pou Chong Sauces
Dominic Lee of Pou Chong Sauces. Image: Hindustan Times

2. Rinkoo Bhowmick of The Cha Project

3. RJ Deepanjan Ghosh

4. Rangan Datta

5. Sei Vui Restaurant

For further details visit :
The Traveling Stories

26 Feb 2018

“Ah! What a dreadful day it was!” complained Rushel to her best friend
“Oh! I know, the client just kept on asking for new changes. Such a douche bag” said Richa.
Rushel and Richa are 2 partners working on a new business. They are bitten by the start-up bug and ventured out to start their own bookshop. A bookshop that traveled to meet people. It was a unique idea that they hit upon during one of their travel journeys through the Kumaon Hills.

Richa Patel and Rushel Seth were best of friends since the 8th grade. They were high school buddies who grew up to be partners in crime. From teenage crushes to college breakups to investment woes – they experienced all. Theirs is a friendship that stood the test of time. Well, that’s not it. You should know that they are inseparable from childhood. They too had their fair share of trouble in the uphill task of keeping a friendship viable but 2 things kept them together – Books and Traveling.

These 2 are the bookworms that love traveling and it was on one such journey when the idea of a traveling bookstore struck them. Both Rushel and Richa had a good job prospect back then. While Rushel was an investment banker, Richa worked hard as an editor in a publishing house. In their traveling days, they saw the condition of people in obscure places and regions. Its then, they came up with this idea of a bookstore for the have-nots. A book was the only agent of change that they believed in and thus started this entrepreneurship tale.

Well, you must be thinking what a boring corporate saga it would be! It certainly isn’t. This tale is about Richa and Rushel’s bookstore “The Traveling Stories” or is it? You are going to find out in a while.

Cut to the present time, our investment banker turned bookstore owner Rushel and the editor cum writer Richa is running a successful bookstore for almost a year now. In the past 1 year, they have traveled 3 states from their humble abode in Mughal Sarai. Now they are looking to tie up with some publishers. Richa’s previous experience has made it easy to approach people. So here they were negotiating with a publisher to support their new bookstore.
“Let’s approach the Pinnacle Publishers, I have heard they support small bookstores like us”, suggested Rushel one day.
“Nah! They are quite stringent with their rules and regulations. For them, it’s always the apple of the eye. They always support bookstores from major cities” said Richa.
“What about the place where you worked? What’s its name? Yes, the Best Books Publishing House” asked Rushel.
“That doesn’t seem like a possibility. They only support a recognized franchise. It’s a lost cause, approaching them”, said Richa.
“Then we are stuck in a limbo”, said a disgruntled Rushel.

So that impromptu conversation led to the current scenario. 3 months and 25 applications later, they finally found a publisher of their choice. It was a reasonably well-to-do publishing house in New Delhi, named “The Elshire Publication”.

Since then, it has been an uphill task of negotiation. While Richa and Rushel wanted to tie up with them so that they can get hold of various kinds of books for their traveling bookstore, the publishing house wanted the bookstore to be a grand affair. This has led to the current commotion and headache that followed.

“I am afraid we have to make some changes in the plan. A huge expenditure is on the horizon”, Richa said to Rushel while putting done the phone. She had just finished speaking to the publisher.

Richa knew this meant further investment but it was Rushel who was getting affected. Rushel belongs to an affluent business family but she wanted to carve out her own identity. So she ditched the family business and that meant living on her own in an unknown city. But she toiled hard and survived in this cut-throat competitive world. A hard-worker and a good student, she made her way to the top, in no time. Soon she became an investment banker.

10 years later, she has ditched that glorious lifestyle in search of a new world. A world that is true to her true self. A world that recognizes her, a world which has been her all. The world of books. She invested all her savings on this bookstore. She was virtually bankrupt and living on the little bit she was earning as a freelancer. Now, this news of further investments will burn a hole in her pocket.

Rushel remained silent.
“Well, say something!” Richa implored.
“Hmmm” said Rushel and looked out of the window.
It was raining heavily – both inside and outside. She had nowhere to go. She couldn’t possibly tell her best friend about her condition – that she had spent all her savings on this bookstore. Even her house is on a mortgage. Apparently, even friends have a distance between them and it widens with time. It’s like that line from her favourite ghazal “Jitna joh nazdik hain use utni doori hain”. She missed her mother in times like these.

“When there is a will, there is a way,” said Susheela, Rushel’s mother. She had passed away 3 years ago. Her father didn’t allow her into the house even on that day. Rakesh completely disowned her since she had left home.
“Where’s the way Maa? Show me the way”, whispered Rushel.

She remained silent all the way home. Rushel saw a child playing along the road on her way home. He was lonesome kid enjoying the rain without being worried about illness or worldly troubles. Seeing her sad and grumpy face, the street child offered her a coin.

“This is the coin of good luck. It had brought the rain today and now I can go home without a worry”

“An empty stomach buys a wishful umbrella of hope”

The kid was an umbrella seller. He knew the rainy season will sell his umbrellas.
Rushel kept the coin in her raincoat pocket and walked ahead. She failed to understand what the boy had said. She couldn’t understand how an empty stomach could give her hope. The next morning she saw the same kid selling umbrellas at the bus stop. Every 3rd person bought one. Sooner than later, he had sold more than 7 umbrellas. The rain of hope had indeed arrived.

Rushel understood what she had to do. She ran to the bookstore.
“Why are you panting?” asked Richa.
“I have got an idea. Let’s set up a book cafe”, said Rushel gasping for her breath.
“Are you out of your mind? Where will we get the money for that? Also, who will cook?” asked Richa.
“Don’t worry. I’ll deck up the place with my harry potter posters and we get those red and white plastic chairs and tables which we used for the get-together last year. As for the food, I will take care of it”, said Rushel.
“Ah! I forgot what a great cook you are!” said an overjoyed Richa.
And with it started the only book café of Mughal Sarai, “The Traveling Stories”.

Rushel’s idea became an instant hit among the college students. They thronged this small book café to enjoy a quiet afternoon in the company of books, music, and a hot cuppa. They even had a book exchange and borrowing program where students can borrow books in exchange for another book. The atmosphere was thriving and within a few months, Richa and Rushel made a fortune out of it.

“Now, we can go for the big investment”, said a Rushel happily.
But Richa had an unpleasant look on her face.
“What happened?” asked Rushel.
“Look at this email”, said Richa while handing her the laptop.
Rusheel took over the laptop and was horrified to read it. She couldn’t believe what she was reading.
It was a mail from the publishing house.

She stared at the email message on her computer, her mind racing so fast that the words blurred together and no longer made any sense. Just three lines, but enough to make her life–the life she’d worked so hard and sacrificed so much to build–begin to crumble around her.

“We are sorry to inform you, we can’t wait any longer. We have chosen another bookstore. Good luck on finding your desired publisher”, read the email.

Rushel’s world turned upside down. She seems to collapse into a whirlwind of darkness where only a single sound resonated. The sound of her father’s voice saying “You won’t amount to anything in life.”

8 weeks passed by since then. Rushel and Richa have gone their separate ways. Rushel who was suffering from bipolar disorder since her childhood days lost her only friend in this process. She has a bookstore franchise now – running in 2 hillside towns – Nainital and Kathgodam. Richa, on the other hand, has become a successful businesswoman running a famous restaurant chain. “The Traveling Stories” is still there but instead of Richa and Rushel’s traveling stories, it has become only Rushel’s traveling stories.

Apparently, Richa had something else in mind. She was making her own negotiations all along the time Rushel was working to successfully run the book café. She was planning to take over the “The traveling Stories” and reaped the benefits of the earnings, in the meanwhile.

She had secretly made all the negotiations with the publishers and even registered a fake bookstore in her name. The publisher chose Richa’s bookstore which was nothing but a fake.
Rushel found this out when she caught some irregular activities in the accounts of the bookstore.

“Our accounts tally don’t match up. There’s an expenditure of 50,000 on the purchase of new books which I don’t remember” said Rushel
“You must have overlooked it. Check the email, the laptop is over there.”

Rushel opened it to check the receipts instead she glanced at her friend’s account and got to know about her correspondence with the publisher.
She immediately confronted Richa but she denied and shouted at Rushel. This was unusual for Richa who was a calm and composed person. This made sure that she was cooking up something.

Rushel immediately spoke to the publisher and got the details of the deal. Then it was clear to her that Richa was running an application of a fake bookstore under her own name. Things became very clear to her. An otherwise temperamental Rushel took this cooly. She invited the publisher to their bookstore.

The following weekend, Richa’s lie was busted as the publisher came unannounced as planned.

Since, then “The Traveling Stories” began a new journey – the beginning of a beautiful ending.
Why take a trip to Antarctica?

8 Feb 2018
Antarctica, situated in the farthest corner of the earth, the Antarctic Pole or The South Pole is the rarest of the rarest travel destination. If adventure tourism is your calling and you absolutely marvel at the primitive geographical features of the earth, then this barren land is the place to be.

The Penguins of the South Pole (Image: Eclipse Travel)

Regarded, as one of the coldest regions of the planet, Antarctica open ups a hidden world. With extreme climatic conditions and unique forms of life, the South Pole is a sight to behold and as we know from our geography lessons in school, this place enjoys 6 months of daylight and 6 months of darkness. So life here remains pretty much inaccessible for a major part of the year (November-March is the time to visit) which makes it an exciting destination for tourists.

An Antartic Expedition (Image: chestnuthilllocal.com)

Earlier, only scientists and researchers were drawn to this place but now this frozen world has become an attractive tourist destination. The reasons for visiting Antarctica varies from person to person but mostly it’s the thrill of adventure and the undisturbed natural beauty that beckons people. Here are few of those reasons that propel people to visit.
1. The breath-taking wildlife and natural beauty of the place.
A polar bear hitching a ride (Image: National Geographic Channel)

The frozen glacier below your feet and the iceberg floating in the ocean is a sight you can’t afford to miss. Added to this natural beauty is the exotic wildlife of the land like penguins and elephant seals sunbathing in ice, a polar bear hitching a ride on an iceberg and hunchback whales jumping out from the water. It’s paradise on earth.
1. The thrill of adventure sports
Sking in the Antarctic ice (Image: Pinterest)

The South Pole is the best place for adventure sports. From a trail-less skiing to scuba diving to kayaking to swimming with the whales – you have got all of it here. There’s no escape from the adventure in this place. In fact, going to an Antarctic expedition is an adventure all by itself. It’s an extreme camping trip altogether.
1. The 24 hours sunlight and the sight of enormous glaciers
One thing that makes it a unique traveling experience is the unconventional climate. The 24 hours sunlight that the 2 poles get for 6 months is a rare geographical event and in Antarctica, you get to enjoy 24 hours of non-stop sunlight. It’s another experience altogether and the huge glaciers and icebergs make this sight worthwhile.

Image : Huffington Post
1. Visit the base stations and active volcanoes.
An active volcano near Russia’s Novolazarevskaya station (Image: Sputnik International)

Antarctica is one of those places which has seen a good number base stations and primitive settlements, the relics of which are still visible in this age. Many countries have their base stations and museums which warrants a visit. Added to this is the sight of an active volcano at the South Shetland Islands in Antarctica. You can directly sail into this volcanic island. Not only this you can even hitch a plane ride on the Antarctica Flights that will give you an aerial view of this cold land.
1. Life underwater
Antarctic Marine Life (Image: Australian Antarctic Division)

What enhances the Antarctic experience is the marine life hidden under water. The diversity there is beyond our imagination. Rare species of albino octopus, crabs, alien species and several unknown forms of marine lives are found there. In fact, it’s the cradle of nature where you found unknown species.

So, a trip down the South Pole is the ultimate travel destination. It’s a dream for travelers around the world!