tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-84560776710894695912024-02-19T08:14:17.921-08:00Changing times...Somanjanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06179416172754294326noreply@blogger.comBlogger28125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456077671089469591.post-62258087179043555262012-10-23T23:25:00.003-07:002012-10-23T23:34:48.152-07:00An Immigrant's Story -2<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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From that Bay to this…<o:p></o:p></div>
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(published in New Global Indian)</div>
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He used to call himself Sam Gosh.
Rina masi-his mother, who lived next door to my ancestral home in Ballygunge,
Calcutta would always reiterate “Shondeep Ghosh” while introducing him. Sam,
however, would perk his brow, let go a quirky smile, tugging at the hip pockets
of his Louis Vuitton jeans, would repeat nonchalantly, “…but I prefer Sam”. He
would say that to anybody and everybody. Also to Partho dadu, who was about 82
years old that time. We tried to touch his feet whenever, if not, then at least
bow our head and keep our eyes down in his presence. Talking to him with hands
in pant pockets was blasphemy! Who wants gang rebuttal from family and all the
make-believe extended ones in the locality! Not Sam. He didn’t seem to care
much about elders. He didn’t seem to be
caring about anything at all, barring his appearance. Rini di, Jhuma di-all the
senior eligible girls’ bandwagon would go cooing seeing him jog in his trunks
in the morning. His glowing skin, the smell of his foreign deodorant, the
texture of his designer ensembles, the accent of his parlance…there was
something intriguing about him. He listened to Eminem that none of us ever
heard of and once he even tried to switch on a device that later I came to know
was his cell phone. It definitely looked very different from the one I saw dad
using. That black, robust uncouth instrument weighing like a pile of bricks!
Sam’s cousin Shona was my classmate so I was amongst the privileged few to be
able to gorge upon chocolates filled with liquors, to savor the sweet smelling
body mist on my skin…to taste a slice of America in my drawing room.
America—the land of opulence, and that of elegance and where dreams come true. That
was the year 1999. <o:p></o:p><br />
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Much water passed through Bay of
Bengal since. My fetish for designer outfits was satisfied to the brim within
couple of years. Forum-a state of the art mall with upbeat multiplex rose from
the rustic ruins of Elgin Road. The depleted
residence of Netaji Subhas Bose located opposite to it resembled the haunting
edifice of the bygone era, overshadowed by the wave of novelty, glitz and gizmo;
liberation and liberalization and the new age phenomenon called the
Americanization. Soon, fluorescent
billboards stirred the unrealized dreams from the long forgotten contours of
people’s minds. Buy this. Buy that. Be desirable. Chic. Live life as if you’re
going to die tomorrow! The long, winding
queue at the Mac D, CCD, PVR pushed aside the few who still cared for an
endless chit chat session on the wooden benches at the dingy tea stall round
the corner, smelling of earth, hearth and sweat. Suddenly, it was fad to hold
hands in public. In private, you could touch the infinite by eloping to another
time and space. The cyberspace. <o:p></o:p><br />
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Soon after, I left for Delhi and
then for San Francisco Bay Area in US. Finally,
I was able to get a first hand experience of the American way of life. What was
that, you would want to know. I found a lot of
space: barren lands, grasslands, highways that intersect in the horizon,
deep blue sea turning green in daylight, some concrete structures reminding me
of Salt Lake-sector 5 back home, and a lot of spacious car parking lots. More
space between me and my neighbor. But the most striking aspect was the passersby(s).
People with diverse features, skin colors, speaking different languages, coming
from places known and unknown, all together dreaming of a better tomorrow. In
the cacophony of multiplicity I found a familiar touch. It said Chaat House!
Udupi Palace! Khubsurat beauty parlor! Probashi Bengali Association! It
couldn’t have gotten any better! There I saw, a woman clad in saree holding her
daughter’s arm, reaching for that evergreen fresh coriander leaves, to be put
in next day’s meal. I know her! I’ve seen her all my life! Then I met this man
in grey beard, smiling eyes hovering on Zee TV, praying for those eleven
cricketers in blue to cause a miracle once and for all. I can’t remember when
was the last time I visited a temple in Calcutta, yet, the chaste atmosphere in
the spotless clean marble floored Livermore temple promptly incited a spiritual
awakening in me. A sense of belonging, a touch of coherence that was so absent
in my life till then. I discovered something else too. A genuine pride in my
own kin. The dozen Indian names on the cubicle doors in the ninth floor of
Oracle building warmed my heart like “a thousand splendid suns”. Was I so
naive, not to see the splendor of my nascence till now? <o:p></o:p><br />
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I happened to chance upon Sam
once, here, in San Francisco. On <i>Ashtami </i>during
Durga Puja. I didn’t recognize him at first. How could I? He was clad in sherwani,
busy managing his tiny tot from making a mess with flowers. “<i>Kamon achho”?</i> (read: how are you)he
asked me in fluent Bengali…! His four year old daughter ran toward us and upon
getting introduced to me made an effort to kneel down to touch my feet.
Standing, in the confluence of prime and senescence, I wandered through the
overwhelming state of revelation. Like touching an old piece of thread smeared
in fragile antiquity, I embraced the moment with cautious, astute anticipation.
Time
stood still while winds of change resonated in utmost urgency…<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Bahu klesh kori, bahu poth
ghuri, dekhithe gyechi porbat mala, sindhu;<o:p></o:p></div>
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Dekha hoi nai shudhu chokkhu meleya, duar hoithe ek pa feleya,
ekti ghasher shisher opor ekti shishir bindu" –Rabindranath Tagore<o:p></o:p></div>
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"Much have I toiled, many roads have I traveled to see
mountain ranges and the ocean. Only I have not cast my eyes to see, one step
away from my door, one drop of dew on one blade of grass"<o:p></o:p></div>
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Somanjanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06179416172754294326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456077671089469591.post-74674112691628125192011-12-16T15:38:00.000-08:002012-10-23T23:26:13.803-07:00An Immigrant’s Story - 1<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdCoPLimND_HldOY8ECb4MSAI7Bl6pwCo_WYu8MGkpDk0s5Hy-JQbLU4IAAP-7d0tZc-Ln0CaL03m0oHsPQi-6PXU9PwnVQwcn7uIqIzS0zXE797HD6zULXKg7KoYzAnKwgl69FdFQy4IJ/s1600/IMG_2860.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdCoPLimND_HldOY8ECb4MSAI7Bl6pwCo_WYu8MGkpDk0s5Hy-JQbLU4IAAP-7d0tZc-Ln0CaL03m0oHsPQi-6PXU9PwnVQwcn7uIqIzS0zXE797HD6zULXKg7KoYzAnKwgl69FdFQy4IJ/s320/IMG_2860.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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She wakes up sweating. The heat inside the room has gone ablaze. Before the walls close upon her, she hastily removes the comforter. Her eyes adjust to the bare whiteness all around - the walls, the closet, the comforter that covered her and the one underneath, on the carpeted floor. No, the carpet isn’t white. There is a hint of grey in it. The only furniture in the room, a two shelved brown pantry stares back at her. There is a laptop lying there, half open. A modem on the rack below over couple of boxes. And a whole lot of ugly black wires. All entangled. She gets up and touches it. The machine springs to life. Her day begins too, opening a window to the wider world. <o:p></o:p></div>
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There, outside her window panes, snows start to gather. Soft balls of virgin flakes come pouring on the grey buildings, empty parking lots and the withered branches of bare trees. Soon, everything is wrapped up in a snowy cocoon. The winds stream down the alley once in a while making hushed whispering noise. Silence prevail rest of the time. You may call it bliss. She calls it bereavement. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Far away, in another part of the world, sun sets slowly. Weary passersby wipe the sweat off their foreheads. An old man gets down from a rickshaw, holding multiple plastic bags filled with everyday items. As he stooped to pay the rickshaw puller, a few stray potatoes spilled from his bag and scattered on the cracked pavement. He looks at them with exasperation and moves on to climb the long steps of his humble apartment complex. On the third floor, sits his wife, waiting in anticipation for his return. The house seems empty and quiet, devoid of the vibrant cacophony that characterizes the city outside. The only mood-changer is the television that never ceases to amuse it’s fellow inhabitants. While the old man was climbing up and the lady sitting down, the television announced the birth of quadruplets in a suburban hospital, death of a Maoist rebel in the jungles of central India, rise of a new hegemony in Belarus, merger of two Wall Street corporations. The last one evoked most reaction from the couple. That’s the corner of the planet that means the whole world to them. That’s where their only daughter resides. Clad in good fortune and glory, she accompanied her husband to America a year back. They say, it’s the place of boundless dreams. Glistening in pride they wait in the mellow lights of the sordid apartment, if she would call today. <o:p></o:p></div>
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While the clock keeps ticking, marking morning to noon, she walks from the bedroom to the kitchen, taking small, lazy steps, fatigued of the stark nothingness that gapes at her in awe. What will she do now? Maybe make a cup of coffee. Maybe try organizing and rearranging the scanty furniture that disturbs the spartanism of the abode. There isn’t a picture somewhere. None on the walls or the small white tea-table or the antiquated wooden television set. She has been thinking about it for some time now. She wants to bring in a plant too, to add a little life and color to her lackluster sustenance. At least she would have a living being to talk to. She doesn’t seem to be seeing any whole day other than her husband who remains so preoccupied in his pursuit of professional wellbeing that she seems almost like an after-thought in his life. She wished he made her busier, even if it was routine work. <o:p></o:p></div>
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She sits on the sofa that they just fetched the weekend before from a bargain showroom. The cushions were from another shop and to her utmost glee the tag mentioned, ‘Made in India’. The cushions are bright red in color with patters in orange and yellow. They transport her back to her old days. Days that were warm, filled up in lights and sounds. Laughter. And a meaning to life. The times with her numerous cousins and friends, of abundant energy, reckless candor and that of hopes and aspirations for a better tomorrow. Her university days, when they would work hard to find a place in the sun. She thinks of the moments with her parents who had lofty dreams about her. They opened all doors for her always, to usher new opportunities her way. They wanted her to hold her head high and make her mark in the world. She thought of her days and nights now. It’s been a year in here; yet, she has no idea what lies ahead, in her new life with a new man in a foreign land with complete unknown prospects and possibilities. <o:p></o:p></div>
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She looks at the snows outside. Out there amidst the white heap sits a tiny little black bird. It nods its head and flies off with utmost urgency. She gets up too, coming out of her daze, strolling down the winding corridor, out of the building in a jiffy. The cold winds splash against her face, watering her nostrils, numbing her senses for a while. She blinks at the dazzling new sun. From there, on that auspicious day she makes that journey. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Somanjanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06179416172754294326noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456077671089469591.post-29755348537568904742011-05-20T20:34:00.000-07:002011-05-20T20:36:51.492-07:00The Internet Apparition<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Peter Delevett reports on Mercury News: In an IPO certain to further turbo-charge the social networking industry, LinkedIn on Thursday notched the most jaw-dropping Wall Street debut for an Internet company since Google. The glorious rise of it’s share-price from $32 at it’s debut to $120 certainly sweep the silicon valley with frenzied optimism. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Outside the glares of the stock markets, Social Media, apparently also hijacked the pivotal heights of our socio-political breathing. Nicholas Kristof of New York Times remarked on the 2009 Protests in Iran:The quintessential 21<sup>st</sup> century conflict…on one side are government thugs firing bullets…on the other side are young protesters firing ‘tweets’. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Almost half a billion people worldwide were watching live Internet streams of Kate and William’s wedding with 400 million viewers tuning into Youtube alone. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">It’s very symbolic that the only significant speech on ‘freedom’ coming from Barack Obama’s administration was Hillary Clinton’s speech on the freedom of the Internet in January 2010! <o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">However, before we let ourselves washed out by the torrents of globalization spill, we must take a pause to realize that like that of globalization, the impact of Social Media too is often blown out of proportion, perhaps unknowingly, by Cyber-Utopians. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Journalist and social commentator Evgeny Morozov writes in his avant garde book The Net Delusion: The cyber-utopians belief that the Internet would turn us into uber-tolerant citizens of the world, all too eager to put our vile prejudices on hold and open up our minds to what we see on our monitors, has proved to be unfounded. In most cases, the only people who still believe in the ideal of an electronic global village are those who would have become tolerant cosmopolitans even without the Internet: the globe-trotting intellectual elite. The regular folk don’t read sites like Global Voices, an aggregator of the most interesting blog posts from all over the world; instead, they are much more likely to use the Internet to rediscover their own culture—and, dare we say it, their own national bigotry.<o:p></o:p></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><br />
</i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">The truth about the Green Revolution in Iran is that the revolutionaries who could be identified on social-networking sites were put behind the bars by the Ahmadinejad regime and the despotic government took virulent measures to curb cyber freedom. They also went a step further to use technology in their favor to promote Islamic fundamentalism. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Another truth is: As per The Economist, only 3% of people live outside their country of birth. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit_Y-aAGVgm5D88bX_SRSGTxD6DFi0sBSNp2odio_NOZpuRgOG7Zr8AiXwiWoii_sFl4MynZs1e0A5CyiIDuSu56a-a7-Y_VAWqTIQGuVXM_RZvrOAb6-UXyDCgSoHV2AdFYjSq3b3V9Xy/s1600/internet-security-concept_%257Ebxp66755.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit_Y-aAGVgm5D88bX_SRSGTxD6DFi0sBSNp2odio_NOZpuRgOG7Zr8AiXwiWoii_sFl4MynZs1e0A5CyiIDuSu56a-a7-Y_VAWqTIQGuVXM_RZvrOAb6-UXyDCgSoHV2AdFYjSq3b3V9Xy/s320/internet-security-concept_%257Ebxp66755.jpg" width="246" /></a></div><br />
</div></div>Somanjanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06179416172754294326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456077671089469591.post-20672653668845029412010-10-14T11:30:00.000-07:002010-10-14T11:30:35.008-07:00Ananda Utsav, Pasadena, USA<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3hB-Pr-BmSIuLcwHdSVHNdgUq75l6OopPJEJc-zRoCWkabtmXcXGy8rSzzL38_4FNm5rn0D69URxDygAuCpwIywyLflkYSm8vDoGUV6V0jO03LBfBsf4nnoFGmDGHj8U7iQfmOkn7xMw8/s1600/IMG_1686.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3hB-Pr-BmSIuLcwHdSVHNdgUq75l6OopPJEJc-zRoCWkabtmXcXGy8rSzzL38_4FNm5rn0D69URxDygAuCpwIywyLflkYSm8vDoGUV6V0jO03LBfBsf4nnoFGmDGHj8U7iQfmOkn7xMw8/s320/IMG_1686.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuW9mTPErDtdAhKhduBPASGtaPb1DhquGo-CqpJMBbyfAA2pkRMwBakZ11Z9SBW-PBvXBhosmyrKFsgB6A8r3ga29qVZhbPYcIwQkFlvELDaxcMi3zfOJJ2TLg1AEfDwJxJdTT_RzsiXzr/s1600/IMG_1701.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuW9mTPErDtdAhKhduBPASGtaPb1DhquGo-CqpJMBbyfAA2pkRMwBakZ11Z9SBW-PBvXBhosmyrKFsgB6A8r3ga29qVZhbPYcIwQkFlvELDaxcMi3zfOJJ2TLg1AEfDwJxJdTT_RzsiXzr/s320/IMG_1701.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Somanjanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06179416172754294326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456077671089469591.post-71477713437841515192010-08-26T14:02:00.000-07:002010-08-26T14:02:47.716-07:00Linking the past with the present...<div style="text-align: justify;">I could bury my legs till my knees in the fall leaves then. The leaves had so many colors. Some golden, some brown, some deep green. They would settle on one another to form a deep leafy bed covering the whole of hill trough. When night settled, the rustle of the leaves would keep me awake. In the morning, the wet, musky smell would tickle my nostrils, my mind absorbing the earthen rot. I could tell who's coming by the sound of the footsteps they made on the leaves. The tribal cook at his regular visits with tea, breakfast, cigarettes. His dog in search of the remnants. Sharp at 8, my father's surveyor would come and wait in front of our tent; All decked up in his field boots, hat and with the sandpaper colored bag on his back. My dad will immediately pick up two of his treasured possessions: the hammer and the torch and off they'll go to delve into the bottom of the earth. To look into the cracks an crevices, faults and mineral beds, walking endlessly through the virgin forests. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2Gp1M5Qa4Q4iRiZIwNdMoNz69BOwyEl6fyR4OgqnsWcxfNl10UjjhDX04uZNfpVvzo1lFnIAt1MxJgIm2lDtpTsJJXdUr5lwzP38Knyg4IXH23p7WHHhvStHTkH8vFHJygwwOaBTFvRxO/s1600/IMG_1607.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2Gp1M5Qa4Q4iRiZIwNdMoNz69BOwyEl6fyR4OgqnsWcxfNl10UjjhDX04uZNfpVvzo1lFnIAt1MxJgIm2lDtpTsJJXdUr5lwzP38Knyg4IXH23p7WHHhvStHTkH8vFHJygwwOaBTFvRxO/s320/IMG_1607.JPG" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Sometimes he would take me along, mostly I was left behind. The moment I'll see their jeep disappearing around the corner, I'll jump into the wild terrain, starting my own geological excavations. I'll dig out a piece of glistening mica or find a perfectly round shaped basalt. Once I found a beautiful piece of rock all engraved in golden stripes which later I found out were copper striations. They all went to my collection. The stones- all shapes and sizes, the pine cones, the rustic leaves and the most exquisite of all, the wild flowers. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">As night would descend, the sounds start reverberating with great elan. The tiny living beings which were hiding most of the day, comes out in open. A lone mammal would heave a big sigh, some other a lingering shriek that would mess up with the monotony of the jungle. Every forest has its sounds. The constant humming that keeps it alive, murmuring of the cricket, stems tweaking, winds hushing the just awakened inhabitants. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The sounds, the smells, the feel of its vast entity, the calm of the moonlit night serenading the ancient Eucalyptus trees, the not knowing and discovering - there's so much to a forest and living in it. Kuchai, in the lap of Chhotanagpur plateau called me time and again. But I could never go back. I had to go pursue another way of life while some other people started inhabiting there in ways that are considered un-social by many now. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">That was 18 years back. I could relive my childhood memories, however. Just last week. After all these years and crossing all those miles, I felt the same calling, the smell of earth, the sound of dropping leaves in another piece of untamed nature. Awakening to another wishful wood. Or was it the same? We change but the forest don't. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div>Somanjanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06179416172754294326noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456077671089469591.post-56302405184310289722010-08-18T11:26:00.000-07:002010-08-18T13:37:19.018-07:00<div style="text-align: justify;">It's still the same. The dull, wet morning, smeared in the smell of earth, the moisture in the air caressing all, the leaves, the brick red walls, the dusty cushions of the patio chairs, the contours of my mind. I sit, waiting, warming my hands at the painted tea cup while the steam and the aroma of its content awaken my senses. I try to fathom the fading darkness through the huge glass door that separates me from the world. It acts as the perfect guardian, shielding me, protecting me from the turbulence outside. Yet, it never ceases to get me intrigued by the stuff out there. The motion. The commotion. Colors and clouds.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Somewhere out there you would be going to sleep now. Nestled in the comfy of your home, with the people who define your life today. Maybe you would brush your unruly curls, or pick on your teeth. Perhaps you'll quickly turn the pages of a journal or just sit there, calm and composed with the Buddha smile. For you always had an air of calmness in times of utmost chaos. Times, when you'd drive me mad with your calmness. While the lava inside me would come exploding in torrents, you would keep looking at me with wistful glum. Deep sensitivity in your eyes that would just see, not speak. Not heal. But only linger to read the visible and the underlying. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Yet what remained with me still, is the feel of the steaming tea in earthen cups at the dingy tea stall near the winding university road...the blissful moments of sipping it, and gulping the lures of life. </div>Somanjanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06179416172754294326noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456077671089469591.post-29405433099536229232010-08-10T15:19:00.000-07:002010-08-12T19:04:16.215-07:00Wiki Leaks, Net Neutrality and the future of the Internet<div style="text-align: justify;">Yesterday, I was having this conversation about whether any discussion can really be called an ‘objective’ one, as our opinions are based on our personal perception and experiences. So much so, that there is always a shade of biasness (overt or covert) when we analyze something. The media, being the extension of human voices and creativity also subscribes to the same principles. Result? We see a Republican loudspeaker in Fox TV, a Democratic middleman in MSNBC, a worshipper of the ruling party in NDTV. Some publications do it in the guise of honest retrospective reporting to cover-up messy operations carried on by the government. For instance, one of the TIME July issues has a horrid cover picture of an Afghan girl with her ears and nose chopped by the Taliban. It says that if it’d be appropriate for the US troops to leave Afghan women to such atrocities? Now you decide whether it’s a true concern or a propaganda mechanism to defend US military presence in Afghanistan amidst fiscal drainage and massive criticism of the Obama government. </div><br />
The partial, selective highlight of the truth often clouds the genuine message in its entirety.<br />
<br />
When it came to what to believe and what not to, the Internet with its uninhibited platform, however flooded us with choices. We no longer had to depend on that colored news at 9 or to listen to the rants and coaxing of the ever popular news anchor. The Internet though much global in its reach and scope, is also that niche for personification. You and I, we all could have our corners to voice our perspective. And for free. It’s simple, economically viable approach epitomized individual triumph in the sheen of collectivism. It got the world to your doorstep and also took your little ideas across the globe. Wiki Leaks founder Julian Assange, however, took it to the next level. He claims to have founded a system that tackles press censorship. You get the story just like it is. Uncensored. An ex-hacker, he stunned the world by some gory revelations in Afghanistan and Pakistan. How he decoded the secret anecdotes, nobody knows, but he did come up with some investigative journalism that we don’t get to see on print and TV these days. <br />
<br />
Not anymore, it seems. <br />
<br />
With the surprise deal between Google and Verizon on net neutrality, that specifies Google’s certain privileges on Verizon network, one can’t help but wonder what would be the fate of individual Internet users when the big network corporations hijack search engines and other popular portals under their wraps. Will there be a price tag for every click? Is the common man going to get penalized for connectivity, effectively and figuratively? The Internet which served as a level playing ground for people of all nations and credibility might just be the next caste system of the virtual world. <br />
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Let’s see what happens!Somanjanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06179416172754294326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456077671089469591.post-35959969037863387982010-07-24T15:53:00.000-07:002010-07-24T16:06:39.576-07:00Where have all the leaders gone?-- A leader's guide to better America<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaXtDvesmqlNIu4o-d4A1vpHIQMe4rb1KpenLVx64iOTkpBukDCs_e0Py3L2_xT6XV4MlWpKXy6d8-oG5DPv-TIxpOHVkBIZmaR29f0ubyrkdYYRcPiAl2dbMO6Zf5oQHaui8dLv296T12/s1600/Lee_Iacocca.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 130px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaXtDvesmqlNIu4o-d4A1vpHIQMe4rb1KpenLVx64iOTkpBukDCs_e0Py3L2_xT6XV4MlWpKXy6d8-oG5DPv-TIxpOHVkBIZmaR29f0ubyrkdYYRcPiAl2dbMO6Zf5oQHaui8dLv296T12/s200/Lee_Iacocca.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497613069645334178" /></a><br />“Leaders are made, not born. Leadership is forged in times of crisis. It’s easy to sit there with your feet up on the desk and talk theory. Or send someone else’s kids off to war when you have never seen a battlefield yourself. It’s another thing to lead when your world comes tumbling down.”—these are the wise words of Lee Iacocca—the dynamic ex-CEO of Chrysler who converted this car company from rags to riches. He is the man behind the Iacocca Foundation that’s making huge success in the field of Diabetes-cure. He is also the Chairman and inspiration to the compatriots of Statue of Liberty-Ellis Island Centennial Commission. “I think we need to be reminded every once in a while of who we are, and what kind of nation we’ve promised to be.” Says Iacocca. “Not a nation that builds walls, but a nation that lifts a lamp to light the way.” At 83, Iacocca talks his heart-out in his latest book, “Where have all the leaders gone” and hopes to make a difference. <br />Pity, this book came rather late. Most of his opinions or criticism on Trade, Commerce and Economics of USA and its allies is already been covered by journalists and research scholars across the globe. His views on foreign policy, particularly those about Middle-East and Japan are also prototypical. However, Iacocca lives up to the expectation of being candid and out-spoken. With anti-Bush slogans and a bitter criticism of the Capitol Hill, he intends to provide direction to the upcoming US Presidential election in this book. <br />The “Nine Cs of Leadership” as compiled by the author provides an acid-test for the future leaders. It is a practical method to judge the desired qualities of an aspiring leader-be it in the political scenario, social platform or an industrial backdrop. Along with the dynamics of Nine Cs, Iacocca portrays genuine case-studies, mapping his life-long achievements and mistakes to current scenarios. Although, the book talks mostly about American situations, his guiding principles have a universal appeal. <br />The author points out, “When advertising slogans are better known than the Ten Commandments or the Bill of Rights, when shopping malls are our places of worship, when bad behavior is justified as long as it leads to profit, when debt is justified as long as it leads to a plasma TV, and when the measure of a person is the kind of car he drives, maybe it’s time to ask whether we’ve corrupted the very notion of capitalism.”<br />It says a lot about the intensity and profanity of morals in the midst of economic-globalization. Besides, the fiscal angle as highlighted by the author, exemplifies the alarming ‘debt’ burdens of the government and commoners alike in the USA. Along with criticizing the spending-spree of average Americans, Iacocca presents a gloomy picture where every household is entitled to a debt burden of $115,000, courtesy the latest National Debt records of the US government. That is the magnitude of US ‘borrowing’ in the world market. He demanded a “National Borrowing Freeze”. <br />His perspective on pros and cons of merger and acquisitions in today’s business world throws light on some of the conniving issues related to corporate ‘take-over’s. He advises current corporate executives to analyze the various dimensions of a merger-acquisition prospect. The potential of an amalgamated entity may increase or decrease as per circumstances. He emphasizes on the “synergy” factor. Moreover, he demonstrates how team-dynamics, existing and prospective customer base adds up to the complexity of the situation. “Merge because of your hopes, not your fears” says Iacocca. <br />Other than the business aspect, this book passes judgment on the existing legal idiosyncrasies in America. The terror of lawsuits involving punitive damages, vaccinations, insurances et al have demotivated the American professionals from all works of life. It has made them “too safety conscious” and as per the author innovativeness is directly proportional to risk-taking ability. <br />Like in his earlier work “Iacocca: An Autobiography” and “Talking Straight”, Iacocca’s sense of humor adds on to his rational thought-process. His expressions on national level disasters or his analysis on today’s “over-eating, pill-popping, TV-watching, iPod-wired, shopaholic, attention-deficit-disordered” current generation are marked with acute satirical gestures. His simplistic, honest, straight forward writing, though marred by unparliamentary language stands out in the myriad of hypocritical narratives. He is a self-proclaimed rebel amongst the retired, golf-playing club goers and a dedicated campaigner to bring back ‘leadership’.<br />No wonder, at 83, Lee Iacocca, the capitalist entrepreneur turned political and social messiah, who once smoked cigars with Fidel Castro, still doesn’t cease to intrigue and rock the world. <br /><br /><center><a href="http://www.weblognow.co.cc/" linkindex="29"><img src="http://img824.imageshack.us/img824/5772/weblog11.jpg" /></a></center> <br /><div style="text-align: justify;"> <br />I am participating in the <b>WeBlog's Sleepy Sunday contest!</b> You may read other participating posts <a href="http://www.weblognow.co.cc/2010/07/weblog-sleepy-sunday-contest-i.html"><b>HERE</b></a></div>Somanjanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06179416172754294326noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456077671089469591.post-7198902211646198872010-05-27T22:58:00.000-07:002010-05-28T10:46:50.023-07:00Stripped DownWhat is the first thing you do in the morning?<br /><br />a) Check my cell phone<br />b) Check my emails<br />c) Check my Face book<br />d) All the above<br /><br />Do you subscribe to any of these options? The answer most likely is ‘yes’! No worries, you are not the only one. Josh-the high school student next door sends 7000 texts on an average every month. His girlfriend Nora has like 1000 plus friends on her FB account and Vishu, across the street is almost always available on gmail. Why? To stay connected of course! Yes, we are all very hyper active social butterflies who have to know and more importantly tell everything every minute about our not-so-important lives. We happen to be so much engulfed in this virtual maze that our real lives retrograde to detached caldrons, way too reluctant to even venture proper conversations for real. Scary, right? <br /><br />But there are chances of redemption before we sacrifice our minds and lives totally to high-tech dominance. Life Organizational Expert Peter Walsh advised “stripped down”. To strip down everything that comes between you and your best life. If that means to get rid of technology for the moment, then do so! One needs to de-clutter and reorganize ones personal space every now and then to live a healthy baggage free life that ushers new promises while maintaining the harmony of existing surrounding.<br /> <br />Life still celebrates the little moments of emotional stirrings. Maybe its time to take our eyes off the blue screen and smile that refreshing smile that no one has seen in a while. You sure can do it still, no?Somanjanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06179416172754294326noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456077671089469591.post-31747980821085490262010-05-19T10:11:00.000-07:002010-05-19T10:35:51.649-07:00Provocative partisan talks at MIT !Last month, this controversial seminar took place in the prestigious premises of MIT that grossly violated the sanctity of Indian hegemony. <br /><br /><strong>Here is the link to the subject-matter of that conference:</strong><br /><br />http://www.twocircles.net/2010apr13/report_mit_workshop_challenges_secularism_and_rule_law_india.html<br /><br /><br /><strong>This is what I have to say:</strong><br /><br />Much of the past decade was about breaking walls and sowing seeds of homogeneity. As technology seeped through our societies, our eclectic minds exploded to embrace the new age: an age of cultural accord. Economic congruency. A strive to simulate the West into the East and vice versa. <br /><br />Yet, today, the world is more fragmented than ever before. Identity in minutia has way surpassed the ethos of entirety. Factions based on caste, religion, ethnicity, ideology et all is marring the socio-political paradigm. Samuel P. Huntington points out in his book The Clash of Civilizations, “In this new world the most pervasive, important, and dangerous conflicts will not be between social classes, rich and poor, or other economically defined groups, but between peoples belonging to different cultural entities.”<br /><br />India, scaffolding years of cultural synthesis obviously served as a target for frequent civil disobedience in many façade. Historically the Indian diaspora is scarred time and again by many a bloody battle. <br /><br />--Will Durant writes in his book "The Story of Civilization: Our Oriental Heritage" (page 459):<br />“ The Mohammedan conquest of India is probably the bloodiest story in history. The Islamic historians and scholars have recorded with great glee and pride the slaughters of Hindus, forced conversions, abduction of Hindu women and children to slave markets and the destruction of temples carried out by the warriors of Islam during 800 AD to 1700 AD. Millions of Hindus were converted to Islam by sword during this period”.<br /><br />In modern times, the US Department of State reports that, according to the Indian National Human Rights Commission, the Kashmiri Pandit population in Jammu and Kashmir dropped from 15 percent in 1941 to 0.1 percent as of 2006 due to Muslim onslaught against Hindu Brahmins in that region.<br /><br />Genocide for political gains even exceeded horrors of ethnic cleansing. In February 1979, thousands of impoverished refugees from East Bengal were massacred by the communist police in Marichjhapi near the Sunderbans, which serves as a classic case of vote-bank paying diminishing returns. Under the same ruling party hundreds of people are subjected to terror tactics, group violence and annihilation for the last three decades, culminating in brutal revolts recently in lieu of forfeiting agricultural lands by the government for establishing special economic zones. <br />Last week, on April 6th, seventy six Indian police men were killed by Maoist rebels in the state of Chhattisgarh. (As reported by Time magazine)<br /><br />However, despite the ongoing mayhem, India exemplifies an underlying current of unity in diversity. The sluggish, yet buoyant, the nefarious, yet upright democracy harbors sentiments of allegiance and compassion. Ethnic minorities held highest offices in this nation. Various religious cults endlessly alleviated the downtrodden from ignorance and deficiency. Communities conspired for a better tomorrow. Perhaps, the challenge today is not just how to identify and analyze the various disintegrating forces in our society but to transcend idiosyncrasies, to establish a more connected, impervious sovereignty. <br /><br />In the context of the recent conference at MIT, Subject: Group Violence, Terrorism, and Impunity–Challenges to Secularism and Rule of Law in India-- It is expected from an elite academic institution like MIT to propagate unbiased discourse of culture consciousness instead of hackneyed groupism based on petty politics. Focusing merely on one-sided version of a pogrom not only rendered injustice to the apocalypse in it’s entirety that innocent people of diverse religious affinity were subjected to, but, it dangerously infused faulty notion of our coveted cultural edifice, threatening the very existence of our age-old coexisting conscience. If not an all-embracing testimonial of our inclusive past, the great minds of the academic gentry could at least bypass the bigoted, esoteric views and offer a holistic approach to the fragmented narrative that they dealt with. The ever effervescent youth of today deserve to know the truth.Somanjanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06179416172754294326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456077671089469591.post-91257117447281793632010-05-10T11:27:00.000-07:002010-05-11T11:07:22.471-07:00Why Shakha Proshakha is one of my favourite Satyajit Ray filmsBefore I start justifying my l'affaire d'amour with this amazing film, let me give you a bit of background to my post. <br /><br />Last Saturday, we (Rahul, Rini, Mouli et moi) met at our place for a Chinese night, read Chinese food that we wanted to experiment with. Like most of our evenings, we were in for good food, good wine and a good movie with some food for thought. The mood was for a Bengali touch so we chose a Ray movie: Shakha Proshakha. Now, the junta was a bit disappointed at it, except me of course, who suggested the movie. <br /><br />Next day, Rini sent me the following link where eminent Bengali film makers criticized it as well. <br /><br />http://www.hinduonnet.com/fline/fl2701/stories/19911220156.htm<br /><br />OK, so here are few of the aspects of this great film that I like and why:<br /><br />---The opening scene:<br />Despite popular opinion on the scene being too long and dramatic, I would like to say that it typified the banal act of reminiscence and retrospection by an ageing father, who happens to be a stalwart in the society. So, we saw a bit of pride, glimpses of defiance, an overt declaration of love, concern, gratification, a little self-pity and a lot of vulnerability. His raving occupied quite a bit of reel time but mind you, it was no ordinary morning. It was the day to commemorate his eclectic past and the flattering present: it was the day of his 60th birth anniversary. And a day when he got a chance to pour his heart out to his mentally scarred, physically dormant, once brilliant second son. Of course he got carried away. Of course he was oh-so-rhetoric. Aren't we all, when we meet the fringes of our broken self?<br /><br />---The characters being one-dimensional:<br />I would like to know which one?! The father(Ananda)though being a well-respected, even worshipped retired executive, who climbed the ladder of name-fame-prosperity by sheer hard work and honesty, who was widely acclaimed for his humanitarian contributions often displayed naive sense of tinted outlook, be it about his family or the world in general.<br />The eldest son (Prabodh), an erudite, composed head honcho who sits on an epitome of familial and professional authority, falls from grace as his not-so-respectful repertory unfolds on the dinner table. <br />The second son (Prashanto), an obvious ideal intellectual with abundant prospects immerses himself in a hapless state of non-conformity instead.<br />The third (Prabeer), painted in a shade of misguided atrocity, rises to the occasion by a humble gush of self-realization and compliance. <br />(Pratap), the fourth son, the idealistic rebel also had his share of doubting self-efficacious moments. <br />The elder daughter-in-law (Uma) and the younger one (Tapati) were painted in the light of opposites too-that of classical candor and contemporary resilience. <br /><br />---The movie being simplistic in its approach:<br />People say that in the context of ek-nambari and du-nambari the treatment of the concept was almost child-like. I beg to differ.<br />Firstly, human beings, especially workaholic, undaunted go-getter types spend so much of their time and energy in the pursuit of their goal, they mostly end up missing the finer nuances of life. In the hustle bustle of our daily chores, how many of us actually find time to reflect? To evaluate right and wrong? To surpass the all-encompassing trivia in knowing the entirety beyond? Plus, we believe what we want to believe. Historically parents have been blinded by the unquestioning love and devotion for their children. The rational of the wise and the perceptive get putty in the hands of innocent naïveté. Life, perhaps, is more simple than we’d like to admit, lest the absurdity of our confused mind (read complexity) gets trivialized. <br /><br />That’s what I like about Ray. He depicts life as it is. Like a matured bystander witnessing it with great élan and objectivity. It’s not a carried-away(ed) overture of ecstatic adolescence. <br /><br />Mouli sent me these 2 links that truly says what I meant to say about Ray movies.<br /><br />http://satyajitray.ucsc.edu/articles/sragow.html<br />http://satyajitray.ucsc.edu/articles/sen.htmlSomanjanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06179416172754294326noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456077671089469591.post-31668135645253954492010-05-05T10:25:00.000-07:002010-05-06T09:31:32.290-07:00Your thought provoking commentsFollowing my article on Hinduism for The Pioneer-Saturday Op-ed column, I got a chance to discuss this soul-searching subject with so many of you! Thanks for your views and encouragement. Here is the link to my article:<br /><br />http://www.dailypioneer.com/252796/This-exacerbates-the-confusion-of-the-Desi-GenNext.html<br /><br />And here are some of your comments: <br /><br />Rajeswari--Well , I do think hindu practices and symbols defines me the way I am<br />.... and it does contribute in a great way to give me identity and anchor..<br /><br />Sudeshna--I think I know what you mean - so many of the next generation of Indian Americans seem so apathetic - this is perhaps less pervasive in the Bay Area where they are steeped in their colorful vernacular cultures ... but in places where the need for assimilation is more I'm sure they find it difficult to acknowledge their roots ... I don't know whether the fault lies with the parents, the community, or the religion... don't get me wrong I love the sense of space it gives me but sometimes I wonder whether being part of an organized religion would have been easier for me ... this is not a sublime argument on the pros and cons of monotheism versus polytheism but a very basic need for a tangible embrace from my supposed brethren based on religous solidarity ... Although the west considers Hinduism to be a pagan, older religion that sort of dumbs down the message for its followers by giving a carnate image to God ... the concept of realization of God through one's life philosophy and not merely by visiting Sunday church makes things all the more difficult for me ... Sometimes when I question God's exhistence I wonder whether it would have been easier if Sunday church or Friday masjid brainwashed me into believing ... [Check out her blog:overacuppatea-rini.blogspot.com]<br /><br />Jitendra--I liked the fact that you think Hinduism has never demanded exclusivity and that it adheres to simple acts of everyday living. The only thing that I like about Hinduism is the concept of Karma - as you sow so you reap.There are lot of things that I do not like about Hindu way of life such as (though I am not a Hindu) :<br /> <br />1. the fact that if you are elder (parents, elder brother, etc.) you 'need' to be respected. I don't buy this. I mean if you want to be respected you need to 'earn' and 'deserve' respect first. Period. Doesn't matter who you are.<br /> <br />2. the noise creating festivals : I mean every damn Hindu festival is about noise (diwali, dusshera, bhajans, kirtans, etc.), dirt (post diwali), adding more to garbage (throwing deities in river), getting an opportunity to molest girls (Holi)<br /><br />The list is endless !! [Check out his blog: iammeagain.blogspot.com ]<br /><br />Aniruddha--Bigger problem is the distorted version of it by tilak wala's to run babaji / mataji factory / offer solution for all ills of the life, move it to the political space. Then we have the bigotry of secularism too, which is all day involved in carving out everything by handicap based on voters at the margin plus pleasing babus lining their pockets day long. ...... <br /><br />I can complain about things day long but problem is that do not have any clue how to solve the mess ..... feel terrible about the dysfunctional, extreme poor governance in desh. One solution is to participate in it - democracy is all about it. I am not sure I am ready for it plus does it fit my goals at this stage ....<br /><br />All I know is that the moment religion leaves privacy of home to public square - it is retrograde for the society at large. <br /><br />More coming!!Somanjanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06179416172754294326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456077671089469591.post-23547274087796007222010-04-21T12:35:00.001-07:002010-04-22T11:03:43.544-07:00Anecdote on ancestry...This movie was lying on our TV table for more than couple of weeks. We were always thinking of getting into the mood for a French comedy but somehow could never get to it. Finally on Sunday morning wile Gubdu babu(that's what I call my son; he's going to hate me for it!)was taking a nap, we were all set for the experience. Les Visiteurs (The Visitors) like most other French comedies swept us off our feet. It's fascinating, hilarious, thoughtful. And most of all it touched a chord deep inside. <br /><br />The plot is pretty simple. One Godefroy de Papincourt(Comte de Montmirail-Count of Montmirail) is about to get married to his sweetheart when under the spell of a wicked witch he shoots an arrow at his father-in-law to be. Obviously his fiancee (Frénégonde de Pouille) refuses to marry her father's killer and vow to lead a life of a nun. Heartbroken, the count goes to a sorcerer for help. The magician promises to send him back in time and give him a chance to rectify his mistake. However, he throws him and his peasant servant (Jacquouille la Fripouille) to future accidentally. You can pretty well imagine the shock of the two medieval men at the new-age, with it's technical advancement and different socio-political scenario. <br /><br />The count discovers his great descendant Beatrice and that his royal palace is sold to the nouveau riche gay descendant of his servant Jacquouille la Fripouille!! The servant in turn was amazed to hear about the French revolution and plunged into the goodlife that the present had to offer. <br /><br />Beside the whole setting and the situations being exteremely comical, the movie also had this touch of class perception and socio-economic idiosyncracies in the serious side. The French surely knows to make it pun intended at it's subtle best.<br /><br />When the hilarity subsided, the movie got me thinking: Wouldn't it be amazing to be able to trace back one's roots and know who our ancestors were! <br /><br />Let me tell you about the little I know. Of course I know about my immediate ancestry: my parents. My dad Somnath Chattopadhyay just retired as a Director of Geological Survey of India and is living in tranquility at his E.M Bypass home. My mom, late Ranjana Guha (she died when I was 3 years old) went to Presidency College in Calcutta, studying Physiology and then to Raja Bazar Science college. She was about to accept an assistant professorship in Delhi when she passed away. Since then it took me quite a lot of time and effort to get connected to the extended family from my maternal side. In fact, one of my classmates from school, Debapratim Guha, turned out to be my maternal cousin. I came to know it much later, probably a decade later through my uncle. I am in touch with my maternal aunts though-Anjana and Monimala. Connected to their offsprings too. My cousin Dev Chatterjee is a thriving entrepreneur in Manhattan. His bro Suvam an ad man in Bombay and my cousin sis just embarked upon professional life. <br /><br />From my father's side, my grandfather Jogendra Nath Chattopadhyay came to India (from East Bengal) with his elder brother Narendra Nath Chattopadhyay and his mother approximately couple of years before the Partition. His father Jagabandhu Chattopadhyay was dead already . They were from Bikrampur, Dacca in Bangladesh. They lived in penury for sometime until my grandpa flourished as a commercial artist. He became the Creative Director at the prestigious ad firm Clarion and later member of its Board. He met my grandma Bela Chatterjee through his sister-in-law (boudi)Rani Chatterjee whom his elder brother had married and they went on to have a love marriage!<br /><br />It was not so surprising as my grandma's family was pretty much anglicized. Her father Nagendra Nath Ganguly was heading the postal department in Katihar (Bihar)and her mother Binodini Ganguly was a social activist. They were used to parties thrown by his British boss and adorned leather bags and high-heel shoes. However, in the same family, her paternal aunt (jethhima) was a freedom fighter and spent much of her life in prison cells, campaigning for a free India. My grandma's paternal uncles and aunts along with numerous cousins (some 21 altogether I think) lived in Dinajpur. I really wanted to upload some pictures but they are back home in Calcutta. <br /><br />Well, that's how far I could go. Coming to the present, my father is an only child so no direct relatives from his side. But his paternal uncle, my grandpa's elder brother gave birth to two daughters- Sumitra (whom I called bada pishi) and Sutapa (chhoto pishi). Bada pishi went to Lady Brabourne College in Calcutta and taught history, till she succumbed to kidney failure. Chhoto pishi got married to an illustrous family (they are linked to Sarat Bose, Subhas Bose's elder brother and mentor). She has two sons- Surya Jyoti Neogi, who is with HP based in Geneva and Chandramouli Neogi, who vouch to be an ardent Bengali, working in DCL based in Calcutta. <br /><br />So much for my family tree. How about yours?Somanjanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06179416172754294326noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456077671089469591.post-63819098148954131172010-03-18T13:31:00.000-07:002010-03-18T16:44:01.926-07:00The art of doing nothing...Finally...yes, finally the moment has come when my three-and-a-half month old son is asleep, my husband is busy at work, my in-laws have gone back home to Kolkata, my friends have decided to give my cell and landline number a break and am in a totally jobless state of mind and status in a very very long time. Wow. I can just hang loose and do nothing now! Can you believe it? <br /><br />I once saw this technique of deep breathing on TV that can really sober you down. I need it badly. Right now. This moment of nothingness is just so oh-all-encompassing. It freaked me out completely. OK, here I go: ha sa ha sa<br /><br />Well, things of monumental consequesnces are happening around the world right at the moment...say for example 1/3 rd seats in the state and central legislative are being researved for women in India. (How can I let this opportunity go and speak nothing? I want to start a revolution against all those men who think women need quota to attain a platform!) and for the first time in the history of Oscars, a woman got the best director award! Three cheers to Kathryn Bigelow! I must watch the movie now (at least the first few scenes)...let her ex-husband's Avatar rot on the shelf...<br /><br />Oh by the way, I still have to look into the TIME for the latest on Afghanistan and did you know that hundreds of teachers are being fired in the name of educational reforms! Heard it's the headline on today's Mercury News..now what'll happen to those useless, obnoxious teens in the public schools? Maybe they'll catch up on medical marijuana and gay marriages (Oprah's supposed to interview Ellen and Portia today). Want a glimpse? Nah, I wont waste my precious moments on the idiot box. <br /><br />Oh my gosh, I completely forgot, my school friend and his wife is going to drop in for dinner tonight. So, let me chop a few onions and peel a couple of potatoes right away. No way, not going to the kitchen now. <br /><br />What about clearing up the credit online lest it dabs my credit history? Hmm, that means, 'll have to start that godforsaken laptop again...I'll never be able to finish it on time as it takes 20 mins on an average to open the homepage you see. <br />Or maybe scroll through the unending missed calls list on my cell phone and make some attempt to amend. How about calling my ex-colleagues and congratulating them, as their copatriot The Polaris Project just bagged lumsum dollars from the UN to fight human trafficking? <br /><br />I change my mind. Let me try that spa-type skin rejuvinating facial cream instead. <br /><br />Oh boy, what was that? my phone screamed from a dingy corner and my baby just let out a war-cry! Up you go, woman...<br /><br />ha sa ha saSomanjanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06179416172754294326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456077671089469591.post-77672390830442050922009-11-25T11:42:00.000-08:002009-11-25T11:55:20.768-08:00Rediscovering Boris PasternakWhat We Had<br /><br />And then we had a loft of hay;<br />It smelt like cork, or wine.<br />August is gone, and since that day<br />Unweeded paths entwine.<br /><br />The tendrils and the lips among,<br />Hoarse diamonds shiveed, drizzling,<br />In their numbness to the tongue<br />Reminiscent of Riesling.<br /><br />September was a small expense<br />The way we were spending<br />It pruned our trees and rimed our fence,<br />It said the summer's ending.<br /><br />Diluting wine in puddles, broke the bread<br />Of glaucous sand baked white,<br />yringed from heaven, melting into lead<br />The latticed glass of light.<br /><br />Or it would melt light into sand<br />In flight, igniting trees and leaves,<br />And then our glass could not withstand<br />The sight of burning leaves.<br /><br />For there are brands of joy-the oaths<br />Vin gai, vin triste. Have trust-<br />These tendrils are but slender growths,<br />And Riesling-only rust.<br /><br />Thus we had night. We had the strain<br />Of lips. Hoarse diamonds sought<br />The eyes, where the autumn rain<br />Rebounded, unechoed in thought.<br /><br />It seemed that we so loved to pray,<br />And kissed as though to miss<br />The briefest years that take a ray<br />To reach the glow of bliss.<br /><br />Like music: years spent in awe,<br />A song would never holler-<br />One tremulous, uninterrupted O!-<br />The trembling pith of coral.<br /><br /><br />Translated by A.NavrozovSomanjanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06179416172754294326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456077671089469591.post-88571402216229555882009-06-22T11:16:00.000-07:002009-06-23T12:15:57.381-07:00Who are our brothers’ keepers?<div align="justify">It’s been many years since I’ve lost faith in investigative journalism. What sells for news today, is a representation of politicized, hackneyed, misinformed, manipulated piece of garbage. Sadly, what we end up seeing is only the glam-packaging and the label.<br /><br />There has been no exception in the context of the recent plight of the hapless people in Lalgarh. Who are these people who have been mercilessly gunned down by the ruling Communist party of West Bengal?<br /><br />Ans: They are the poorest of poor, living in barren, dry lands of Midnapore which can produce only single harvest each year. Yet, those people have no other means of sustenance than to cultivate these unsuited lands (that they don’t even own) or survive by selling leaves and wood from the forest. For decades our Left, liberal, people’s party (CPIM) was involved in extortion and crime in the areas like this to strip the local people of their basic rights and dignity.<br /><br />Now, that they have finally voiced their opinion and protested against the vicious political regime, they are suddenly being branded as "ultras" and crushed by bullets from the face of the earth. The locals might have joined forces with the Maoist group but what choice did they have?<br><br><br /></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">Not to forget, CPIM very conveniently used Maoists to crush Trinamool Congress in Keshpur and Trinamool to combat CPIM in Nandigram. Moreover, UPA govt had also been instrumental in bringing Prachanda, the Maoist leader into power in Nepal.<br /><br /><br /></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">None of the leading media houses or the newspaper publications reported the sorry state of affairs in Lalgarh till CPI-M zonal committee secretary of Lalgarh Anuj Pandey's palatial building was dismantled by the Maoists. It came out in open that almost 40 per cent of the money earmarked for rural development was “looted” by CPI-M functionaries, bureaucrats and contractors. Then all hell broke loose.<br /><br />And what is media’s take on this? I don’t know whether to laugh or cry at the mundane attempt to generalize the situation in WB with the rest of India in this editorial of the latest issue of Organiser:<br /></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><strong>Editorial</strong></div><div align="justify"><strong></strong></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><strong></strong></div><div align="justify"><strong></strong></div><div align="justify"><strong>Maoists are enemies of the nation.Crush them. </strong></div><div align="justify"><br />The recent spurt of Maoist violence in Bihar, Orissa, Jharkhand and West Bengal is a matter of great alarm. This violence has taken a heavy toll on the lives and morale of the security forces operating in these areas. With counter-insurgency measures taken by Chhattisgarh and Andhra Pradesh governments inflicting a severe blow on the underground insurgents, they seem to have shifted their concentration to softer terrains where the state administration appears to be addressing this challenge as a simple law and order problem. And the Maoists are stepping up their mindless killings to demoralise and make ineffective the local administration. Although Prime Minister Dr. Manmohan Singh has repeatedly said that the Maoist insurgency is the greatest threat before the nation, the centre is yet to put in place a strategy to fight these criminal barbarians who have taken control of large swathes of tribal belt across the country. India’s political establishment does not give the impression that it has fully grasped the danger to the country’s sovereignty and integrity the Maoists are posing. Viswa Rangan, DGP, Chhattisgarh, who has an excellent track record as a thinking police officer, has made an incisive study of the Maoist strategy in India. Intercepting their underground literature, interrogating the arrested top Maoists and studying their intelligence reports, he has come to the conclusion that the ultimate goal of the Maoists is to overthrow the democratically elected government in the country and create anarchy. He says, “The aim of Maoist supporters is simple. Demoralise the state machinery to such an extent that its will to fight the Maoists is completely shattered and the road to Maoist expansion is facilitated.” The Maoists have succeeded in establishing a multi-layered network through their open and clandestine channels to deflect attention from their real motives. There are Gandhians, civil liberty operators, media personalities, writers and artists who are linked to the Maoist network and they try to camouflage the sinister designs of the Maoists. There is no premium on the lives of thousands of innocent policemen who get killed every year in Maoist violence. The collateral damage to civilian life, industrial growth and development has never been factored into these calculations. Often the big Maoist attacks pass off as isolated incidents in scattered remote terrains. Reports say that the Maoists have joined hands with the jehadi groups, Church outfits and even the ISI to subvert the Indian State. The response of the State is, however, weak, dodged and inadequate. The security forces are not equipped with necessary resources or sophisticated weapons. The experts say that the Maoist army in the country has all the modern weaponry in its possession. Its extortion budget, according to these sources, is in the range of Rs 3000 to Rs 5000 crore. It buys thousands of rupees worth weapons every year other than the arms, ammunition and uniform looted from the security forces and arms depots at various places. Its macabre activities and gruesome killings are not correctly reported and even if they come to light they are glossed over by the friendly intelligentsia as just isolated cases. These groups magnify any retaliatory action of the police and government and try to rationalise the Maoist mayhem as a social problem needing sympathetic consideration. The civil groups supporting the Maoists in the open society justify the Maoist crimes as the result of poverty and underdevelopment in the adivasi areas but they conceal the fact that in areas where they are entrenched, they do not allow any development work, schools, hospitals or even roads to be built. It is high time the government woke up to the Maoist threat as the one that is out to destroy the country’s democracy. One only has to scan the pages of the Maoist Bible, Strategy and Tactics of the Indian Revolution, published by the Central Committee of the CPI (Maoist), to realise how deep and dangerous their ideas are. It states, “The central task of the revolution is seizure of political power through protracted people’s war.” With a quote from Mao who said, “The seizure of power through armed force , the settlement of the issue by war is the central task and highest form of revolution.” The book further elaborates saying, “To accomplish this central task, the Indian people will have to be organised in people’s army, and will have to wipe out the armed forces of the counter revolutionary Indian state through war and will have to establish in its place their own state.” The centre cannot afford to leave the fight against Maoists to individual states but it has to evolve an over-all national strategy with a central command and if necessary assistance from the military before it becomes too late. </div>Somanjanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06179416172754294326noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456077671089469591.post-62145781349616650532009-06-22T10:05:00.000-07:002009-06-22T10:12:20.445-07:00An introspective letter from Anil Chawla to Sudheendra Kulkarni, aide to L.K.Advani<div align="justify">Dear friend,<br />Namaskar,<br />Sudheendra Kulkarni, who currently works as an aide to Mr. LK Advani, is an old friend. In 1975, both of us joined IIT Bombay for B.Tech. A couple of days back Sudheendra wrote an article "Hindu Divided Family", which you may read at Hindu divided family Link: </div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"><a href="http://www.rediffmail.com/cgi-bin/red.cgi?red=http%3A%2F%2Fwww%2Etehelka%2Ecom%2Fstory%5Fmain42%2Easp%3Ffilename%3DNe130609hindu%5Fdivided%2Easp&isImage=0&BlockImage=0" target="_blank">http://www.tehelka.com/story_main42.asp?filename=Ne130609hindu_divided.asp</a></div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify">Sudheendra's article has drawn considerable attention in media. I am replying to Sudheendra in an open letter discussing the role of Mr. Advani in BJP and also the defeat of BJP in recent elections.<br />The enclosed open letter to Sudheendra is about 2000 words. Please read it and send me your comments.<br />With Best Wishes and Regards,<br />Anil Chawla</div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"><a href="http://f1mail.rediff.com/prism/writemail?mode=mail_to_individual&email=hindustanstudies@gmail.com&els=9f93ef8905f674bf8f0bb6f15b07eb69" target="_blank">hindustanstudies@gmail.com</a></div><div align="justify">______________________________________________<br />Dear Sudheendra,<br />I have just read your "deeply introspective essay" on <a href="http://www.rediffmail.com/cgi-bin/red.cgi?red=http%3A%2F%2Ftehelka%2Ecom%2F&isImage=0&BlockImage=0" target="_blank">tehelka.com</a> about BJP's defeat in recent elections. The article is described asintrospective, but I failed to find anything that could be called introspection by any stretch of imagination. True, you say that "I toocarry my share of responsibility", but that is more courteous than introspective.<br />All through the essay, you look upon BJP as a patient lying on an operating table and your role as that of an outsider trying to see allthat has gone wrong. The patient is being blamed for all that has gone wrong, without in any way blaming either the virus or the team of doctors who have brought the patient to the present critical state.<br />Please pardon me for being direct and on the face. I guess as a former classmate I can take this freedom. I campaigned for Janata Party in 1977 elections. Ever since then I have been in and around the party (JP/BJP) working at various levels. Sure enough, I have not been an aide to Mr. LK Advani (LK) like you have been. Both of us began dabbling in public life together at IIT Bombay. I have spent more than three decades in close proximity with BJP and RSS without ever being offered a post. I am not alone. There are thousands like me who have served in their own humble way. What has always surprised me is that someone like you who was a committed fulltime communist for almost two decades, suddenly did an ideological somersault and landed up straight in the top rungs of BJP. When you are in mood for some introspection, please do think about this. Probably, the roots to the present malaise in BJP can be traced to your own personal journey.<br />When a communist suddenly becomes an ideologue for a party like BJP, there is bound to be skepticism and even some ridicule. It becomes imperative on the neo-convert to prove that there has been a genuine transformation of the soul and not just a change of coat. Even if the neo-convert does manage to prove his credentials, there is no way that he should ever be allowed to rule over the heads of people who have devoted their life to the cause. In your case, (a) you have never proved that you have really changed and (b) you actually landed up on top of the ranks in a manner that is most inexplicable. I say that you have not been able to prove your credentials because I have read some of your articles and I can say with a fair level of confidence that you remain at heart a communist who is trying to put on the camouflage of a Hindu.<br />Dear Sudheendra, I have nothing against you personally. Your appointment as National Executive member of BJP, at the time of your joining BJP, and later as Prime Minister's key aide had pleased me enormously. One always likes to see old friends in positions of power.The problem is that your case is not an isolated one, but a representative one. There are many in Delhi and Mumbai who have been able to gain access to LK's coterie by hook or by crook and it is these who now rule over BJP.<br />When you analyze BJP and RSS with a cold surgeon like approach, you ignore the role that LK's family and coterie has come to play in the party. Elections of 2009 were not fought by BJP against Congress, but were reduced by LK and his gang to a war by LK against one and all. The party has been systematically hijacked and decimated over the past decade and a half by LK's coterie. You just need to look at the campaign material prepared by the party for the recent elections. There is only one face LK's. Even Atal ji was not considered worthy of being put on the hoardings and posters. Congress gained mileage from photographs of Gandhi and Nehru decades after their deaths. Communists continue to revere Lenin and Stalin till today. Contrast this with the way LK and his war team dumped Atal ji most discourteously even though he is alive and continues to be revered by millions in the country.<br />You say that the BJP leadership is in disarray. If it is true, the only person who is responsible for the mess in the party is LK and noone else. He has ruled over the party with an iron hand for more than two decades. In fact, the words "Majboot Neta" (Strong Leader) that were used to describe LK during the recent election, apply only in respect of the way LK behaves in the matter of crushing his critics and opponents within the party. He is ruthless in demolishing anyone who as much as raises an eyebrow against him. He has no patience for anyone who even dreams of being his equal within the party. Can you please name for me two people who are LK's equals within BJP, in LK's vision? LK's desire to stand as a tallest leader made him choose only pygmies for all critical positions in the party. The only way that one could rise up in BJP with LK at helm was to act as a subservient spineless dwarf.<br />The problem with dwarfs is that while they are very good for boosting one's ego, they have limited use when one faces a war-like situation. In the recent elections, LK decided to fight it all alone. LK and his family and coterie thought that their rag-tag army of laptop professionals could substitute for the well-oiled and tested machinery of BJP, ABVP and RSS. The irony is that the blame for the defeat is now being put on the doors of the organizations that were treated most shabbily when LK and his team were dreaming of victory. LK and his team are now complaining that no one from BJP top leadership stood up to defend him when he was under attack. The fact is that among BJP leadership, the ones who command any stature were always ignored,attacked and pushed to the sideline by LK and his gang. So when LK came under attack he looked around for support and found none. Of course, there were many rats who were raising their feeble voices in his support. Unfortunately, the voices of rats do not count. This is something that LK should have thought before he appointed rats in all the key positions.<br />You talk about the party's social base. Did LK do anything in this regard during the past five years? The answer is an emphatic NO. When LK did his last `yatra' before 2004 elections, a photograph of his starting point was circulated. It showed LK standing with his daughter and wife. There were no BJP leaders on the dais. LK defended the presence of his family by saying that he drew strength from them. This is the root of the problem. In the past decade or so, LK stopped drawing strength from the party or Sangh parivar, and started leaning on his personal family ignoring the larger family to which small humble persons like me belong and from where we draw our strength. LK saw the party and Sangh pariwar as a tool to achieve his personal ambition at all costs. In the past decade, LK's focus was on building his personal image, his family strengths, his mafia-like grip on the party. The thought of getting or building leaders who command or could potentially command respect in various social groups seems to have been far removed from LK's mind.<br />I attended the function at Bhopal of LK's unveiling of his autobiography in Hindi. What an unabashed projection by a person whohas no achievements worth mentioning even in one paragraph! Future historians will mention LK as a classic example of a person who had illusions of grandeur. They will write that he was a manipulator who was ruthless to independent thought within his party and rose by methods that ruined the party. Having said that they would probably add - he saw films and wrote two eminently forgettable autobiographies. What else is there to mention about LK's lifetime achievements? Are there any articles / books written by him on social-political issues? At least I am not aware of any. He is a self-centered person who cannot see beyond himself and his interests. If he puts pen on paper it is to describe his own self because that is all that he can ever see. If he talks about Hinduism / Hindutwa or any political ideology or national issues, it sounds hollow because he has never applied his mind to anything except his own interests, his family, his career, his ambitions, his dreams etc.<br />You might respond by saying that all politicians today are like that. You would probably be right on that. But then they know that they are run-of-the-mill politicians with no illusions of being grand strong leaders. If LK had realized his own limitations, he would not have tried to fashion 2009 elections as an exercise to elect him as the prime minister. The worst thing that happened in 2004 and 2009 elections is that the BJP, under the influence of LK, did not use the elections as an exercise to take party's ideology forward. In days of Jansangh, when it used to be absolutely clear that there was no possibility of winning, the party would still fight. In those days, it used to be clear that fighting an election was an opportunity to propagate our ideology and thoughts to a bigger audience. In the 2009 election, the campaign was focused only on the persona of LK ignoring even the party's manifesto.<br />As an old hand of the broad ideological historical process that I call as Hindu nationalistic movement, I have no serious regrets about BJP losing 2004 or 2009 elections. But I do regret that the party which was making an attempt in its initial years to define a new vision for Ekatm Manavwad (translated by me as Monistic Humanism) lost way. I regret that instead of focusing on issues and ideas the party focused on an individual. I regret that the party for whom thousands shed blood and lives became a tool in the hands of some who want to live a seven-star lifestyle. I regret that personal ambitions and aspirations of one man became the focus of many organizations that are known for the sacrifices of their leaders.<br />Dear Sudheendra, I agree with you wholeheartedly when you say, "The BJP can indeed bounce back. But it can do so only if it first renews and empowers itself comprehensively in its ideology, its geographical-social spread, its own political strength, its massactivity, its alliance-building, its cadre-based organizational network, and its leadership". The difference is in approach. While youwould like to probably do it with LK and his cronies at the helm, I shall like Sangh pariwar to put the dark days of LK and his croniesbehind.<br />Sangh leadership must act to decisively purge BJP of LK and his individual-centered style of working. Competence and not loyalty to this or that individual must be the criterion for all appointments. Ideology must take centre-stage once again and those who can help with defining and clarifying ideological issues should be in key positions and not sycophants or moneybags.<br />I am making this letter public because I think that the issues that are discussed here are very important and need a wider debate. Ofcourse, I know that this will put me at the risk of harsh retaliatory action by LK and his coterie. I guess that I have to take this risk inwider national interest. I hope I can count on you as an old friend if the action turns nasty.<br />With Best Wishes and Regards,<br />Anil Chawla Hindustan Studies & Services Ltd.MF-104, Ajay Tower, E5/1 (Commercial),Arera Colony, BHOPAL - 462 016 INDIATel.- 91-755-2427535, 2427536 Fax - 91-755-2467485 Mobile - 09425009280</div>Somanjanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06179416172754294326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456077671089469591.post-11395396571469714692009-04-10T06:21:00.000-07:002009-04-10T06:22:18.240-07:00Innocence lost in the world of infraction…<div align="justify">Last month, with the help of our coalition partners (EITC), we (at Love146) coordinated a conference based on the global human trafficking scenario on the Internet at UC, Berkeley. I was much privileged to be invited and interacting with leading social reformers and ardent activists. The discussions over breakfast, lunch and dinner transcended from the condition-analyses of domestic trafficking, to the situation at East-Europe and South/South-East Asia. From the causes, to the effects, mitigation processes and like most of the issues today, eventually to the lack of judicial intervention, federal expedient and Government policies. I solely agreed and returned heavy-hearted to my daily drudgery in a public school where I’d been teaching for the last six months.<br /><br />Right after returning, to my utter disbelief, I got the news of a pregnant student eloping with her boyfriend who is supposed to be ten years older than her! I just couldn’t help worrying myself about the fate of the young girl. What if her boyfriend is a trafficker? After all, what kind of man would impregnate a child and prompt her to run away with him?<br /><br />Then I thought why am I so shocked? In a society, where before knowing your Newton or Byron, you learn to show some skin, paint your face and flaunt your cleavage, while for the male counterparts, your dignity slip by your flowery underwear, dripping down your knees, where you’re lured to taste the forbidden fruit just to be in vogue at the pupil-dom, aren’t you massively prone to such catastrophe?<br /><br />Yes, we made this society, where five year olds are showcased in cocktail wears at beauty pageants; ten year olds are on a diet spree; its chic to flash your whole life to 300++ people, known or unknown on Facebook/Myspace/Orkut ; you’re a misfit in the society if you don’t have an i-phone and an i-pod and you’re thoroughly un-cool if you don’t have a boyfriend/girlfriend by the time you’ve learnt to spell it! In Budapest, you can buy a kiss at the traffic signal with $5, in Delhi you can sleep with a college girl with $10, in Quito, you can check out a teenage girl’s tattoo near her private parts with $15. And let me tell you, this $5, $10 or $15 don’t necessarily go to buy bread for the family all the time but often spent on the latest gadgets and designer clothes.<br /><br />This is the sexed up, material-dominated, value-infringed society that we have subjected our children to…<br /><br />Yes, we need Government protocols, gender consciousness, child-rights, global peace et al to stop sex trafficking in macro level but what exactly is our individual contribution in safeguarding our home from such devastating consequences? Are our children really safe with us, let alone the predators out in the world? <br /> </div>Somanjanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06179416172754294326noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456077671089469591.post-36905430087161812282009-03-04T11:03:00.001-08:002009-03-04T11:03:42.755-08:00<div align="justify">A lot of people asked me whether I had a culture shock after coming to US. When I embarked upon JFK, I was amazed to find out that it looked so similar to the airports in India. Shabby walls, streams of people of various nationalities, long winding queues. It took us a good one and a half hour to reach to the immigration window. Once I got out, I was in for a bigger surprise. Everything looked so familiar! The skyscrapers, the potholed pavements with vendors selling their stuff, so many Indians on the street and the streets were equally crowded like that of Esplanade in Kolkata! Hmm, so is this America?<br /><br />I had to wait for about two hours to get my answer. We built our nest in a small town called Hamden. It’s basic and beautiful at the same time. There weren’t many tall apartments, ours being six-storied is probably the highest in the neighborhood. The supermarkets were close by. All in line: Stop & Shop, Rite Aid, Marshalls at one side, Toys r Us, Wal-Mart, Shaws on the other…you can hardly spot a person on the road. SUVs, trucks and Sedans dot the parking lots. At first, I thought, this place was unique. Deserted with not much of night-life, away from the hustles and bustles of metropolises with a mixture of greenery, water bodies and basic utility stores. Wait until I started traveling. Be it in the East coast or West, Mid-west or South, this is the picture of most of the Americas. It’s so uniquely homogenous, that without the help of a GPS you won’t be able to tell a difference. The same wide lanes, the traffic signals, the directions, the malls, the stores, the houses. Yeah, almost everything.<br /><br />Then the snow came. And, I got glimpses of first-world efficiency. The highways were quickly cleaned…the routine resumed. I got pretty complacent with my work-home schedule. And that’s not the only thing I got complacent about. I was at ease with my life. Well, yeah, I found a difference. There isn’t any unpredictability here that was so predominant in my life back home. Constant preparation and customization was needed back there but here the whole system is somewhat customized to your routine. Americans did quite a mean job, huh?<br /><br />Socially, I found it easy to gel with. Everywhere I saw family people, leading lives with spouses, children, dogs or whatever but it’s pretty much the same as we did. They talk about everyday chores, new designs in the boutiques or even of mother-in-law problems. The have the same insecurity about monetary savings or career aspirations etc. People over here also look for romance and commitment and don’t just jump into beds.<br /><br />Everything fitted in till I started teaching in a public school. In the classroom, I found Asians, Caucasians, Latinos, African-Americans, Mixed-genes and everything that you can imagine. Wow, unity in diversity. No, not much unity though. Sometimes, yeah, but there’s also groupism and an inherent inclination to stick to one’s own kin. But nothing overt. America has taught one thing for sure. Subtlety. There are kids coming from broken homes, having single parent or abusive ones. There are kids from neglected families who are always seeking attention. There are ones with deep-rooted cognitive or psycho-somatic problems. There are one’s who are burdened with budding sexuality and the constant urge to live up to the media-standards, aka Hanna Montana and its likes. Have I seen more diversity in my life??<br /><br />I found a huge difference in the education system too. In our schools (at least in my time) much stress was given on absorbing information. It was about learning, mugging and replicating to near perfection. True, we felt very knowledgeable but quite didn’t know what to do with so much knowledge. Here, everything is measured to your capacity. You’re given an anecdote but it’s you who has to decode it or analyze it and decide whether you’re up to it or not. Knowledge doesn’t come easy and whatever comes needs to be deeply ingrained. In other words, education is more about concepts here. It’s more about analysis than simulation. This however, makes a huge difference in shaping the overall personality of the students. It pretty much gives them an idea of their reach and capability. And, more importantly their right to choose. Does this make them competitive enough? Or prepared to ambiguity? Groomed to comprehend the vast spectrum of the big, wide world? Am not too sure. But then every country has its own set requirements.<br /><br />It’s only in one of those days when I catch up with a lonely teenager after class, chatting about his/her insecurities or deliverance that I realize how similar our worlds have been. I used to have exactly the same thoughts and doubts and resolutions when I was a teenager. And, sometime I meet a stranger in a railway station or an airport and we exchange views as easily as we would have been in a busy street corner of Kolkata savoring a perfect, innocent adda (what’s the English equivalent? Chitchat?) and I catch up with an old lady who’s grandchildren are working abroad and have just gifted her a computer to be in touch…And the working mother speeding by to pick up her toddler from school, an adolescent couple walking hand in hand giggling to glory…it’s the same everywhere. Is it not? </div>Somanjanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06179416172754294326noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456077671089469591.post-24076006783282173452009-02-03T12:23:00.000-08:002009-02-04T09:57:41.692-08:00<div align="justify">Have you ever missed the chance to say the right thing at the right moment? Well, that’s my whole life. How I hate those hangover moments when I come up with a brilliant punch line and exact phrases to set the stage on fire but only…only when the situation has passed by and I am left with nothing but to succumb to the lost opportunity! L<br /><br />Once this colleague of mine (a very mean and competitive one) overlooked at my ppt slides and gasped on my neck screaming “who asked you to do this! This is so very irrelevant!” I humbly explained him the significance of it divulging the minute details. Then I thought, wait a minute! Why am I answering to him? I should have just said my manager asked me to do this and it’s none of your business! But did it occur to me on time? Of course not! I only thought about it when he already had his nose-poking, sinister moment!<br /><br />Then there was this friend of mine who was after my life to make me visit him so that he can show me some special movie. So, one fine day I thought of visiting him (reluctantly though) and you know what, whole day I was subjected to a boring, half baked documentary esque, inferior quality cinema and to make things even worse he didn’t even offer me anything to drink or eat! I was famished by afternoon and proactively asked if we can do some home-delivery…pizza, Chinese whatever and he simply ignored my requests talking relentlessly ‘bout different things with the shady movie in the background. Finally, in the evening it was time for me to leave and he was (kind enough) to offer me a lift. On the way, he dropped by at a gas station because he had to take a leak and then asked me if I need something to eat (from the shady store at the gas station). Me? I just smiled and said “No thanks. I am good”. “Oh you aren’t feeling hungry? So you’re on diet, huh!” yeah, that’s what he said! I was so stunned at his insensitivity that I decided to just stay mum. “I’d rather starve and die than have something at 6 in the evening from that run-down store when I was starving whole day and you didn’t even care..” "Yeah, I would need some water to pour on my head!"…<br /><br />Sometime back, I was at a Middle School covering for a teacher who was sick. The administrator (an old, obese, loser-like lady) handed me the lesson plans and the schedule etc with the class room direction. It turned out that all the information she provided was erratic. This teacher was supposed to teach in some other class-room and she only needed somebody for half the day. Then I was supposed to show the students an informative video and not follow those particular plans. I somewhat managed all that and visited the admin staff again once my duty was over. She gave me a big smile and said she would need me in the second half as well as I’ll have to cover two more classes. Then she gave the details of those two classes. Even this time the info was misleading. Wrong rooms, wrong assignments. After running around the hallway for half an hour, many a phone calls and talking to a lot of teachers in the vicinity I figured it all out. After the grueling day was over, when I was signing out the old lady gave me an apologetic smile and said that she was sorry about all the chaos. I melted instantly and said in zest “No problem. Happens. I had fun exploring the building…”. And then, hold your breath, she said “You’re lucky, we are gonna pay you anyhow!” Oh yeah? I just gave her an amused look and walked away. Gosh, I could have said “Oh I was just trying to overlook your callousness but I guess you don’t deserve it!” or "You're lucky too that they won't pay me from your salary!"If only I could have said that right then!!! </div>Somanjanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06179416172754294326noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456077671089469591.post-89985608337058007682009-01-07T17:58:00.000-08:002009-01-07T17:59:37.107-08:00Prostitution goes hitech in India<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">With the advent of globalization, technological advancement penetrates the red light districts of India. Gone are the days when one had to look behind one’s shoulders, and, palpitating in promiscuity, find his way through the seedy lanes and by-lanes of red-light districts. Now, it’s possible to satiate one’s erotic fantasies by just the click of a computer mouse. Why only men? As the trend suggests, women are increasingly looking beyond the marital bedroom for sexual satisfaction in lieu of money and favours. Men and women are equal beneficiaries of a new explosion in the sexual services sector. There are escort services to suit all budgets and erotic massage parlours that don’t require you to go to them but they come to your hotel room. <br />Craigslist is a web site that provides you an anonymous and free platform to interact with billions of fellow users worldwide for experimenting with erotica. It has pioneered the entire online classified business to a magnanimous level.<br />It’s a virtual buffet offering all things to all people, thriving on the popularity of its Erotic Services section catering to people coming from various societal spectrums and geographical locations.<br />It’s also perhaps the only utility web site in India with an unrestricted section on dating and prostitution.<br />A woman writes on the Ahmedabad Craigslist-Erotic Services section: Are you feeling lonely? With no lady companionship with you? Hate those cold nights or warm afternoons, wishing for someone to be by you. Whether you are shy or too outspoken. Only a lady knows a way to another girl's heart. If you need help contact me to get your secret guide.<br />This one is from a man on the Bangalore Craigslist: Hi!! I'm a tall, good looking young boy from Bombay, been here in bangalore for over a year now. During the years that i've spent in bombay, I've developed this queer, yet very interesting, knack of satisfying all the desires of all the demanding ladies whom i've met. Now, I'm hoping to be given an opportunity to continue the same here in Bangalore!! So all you ladies looking for any sort of companionship, kindly email me with a snap of yours as i'm rather choosy about who i service. Thank you!<br />Some advertisements are more explicit, like this one on Chennai Craigslist: Frankly speaking i need company of a nice , clean girl for few hours on payment basis. Payment will be upfront and in cash. Pls contact.<br />Some take the liberty of flaunting sexual preferences. On Delhi Craigslist: HELLO I am 24 yrs old GAY MALE ESCORT with attractive, sensational ,delicious, and natural charm . I am combined with good looks, erocticism making it perfect for all manner of occasions.Body worship, erotic massage and nice companionship is my speciality.I am a total package with erotic skills,good personality,pert lips, stunning body,passionate and great in bed. I am available for outcalls in DELHI with good Service.<br />Much to the chagrin of the virtuous, conservative Indian populace, current generation Indians have gone gung ho over sexual liberalization. Today, culture consciousness in India is synonymous to overt indifference towards indigenous ethnicity, blindly plagiarizing the selective West: MTV and the brave new Mc Worlds culture to be precise.<br />As for in the West, in the USA, Craigslist has been vindicated by the Press, the law-enforcements, NGOs, as well as the Federal body. Mayor Shirley Franklin of Atlanta issued a letter to the owners of Craigslist stating that Craigslist is a prime source of human trafficking and sexploitation of children. The letter requested the cooperation of Craigslist founder Craig Newmark and president Jim Buckmaster to institute reforms of the website that would deter sex crimes against children. <br />More recently, Attorney General of Connecticut, Richard Blumenthal demanded that Craigslist purge apparent, often graphic solicitations for prostitution rampant on certain sections of its website.<br />With its free postings and relative anonymity for its users, Craigslist's Erotic Services site has become a vehicle for the trafficking and exploitation of women and children. There are frequent reports of children falling prey to traffickers who then advertise them on Craigslist. Victims as young as four years old have been advertised for sex on the US site.<br />In the light of economic advancement, it’s a matter of speculation, how India deals with moral and cultural anarchy of its rising bourgeoisie.<br />Age-old stereotypes about India are crumbling fast. The beginning of the economic liberalisation programme in 1991 led to the overhaul of traditional perceptions on sex and erotica. The proliferation of Internet may yet be limited to the top 13.50 per cent of the population, but even there we are talking of 150-200 million people, i.e, two-thirds of all Americans. Unlike east Europeans, Indians have not exported their sexual services sector, but have thrived on a huge domestic market. Craiglist is the most preferred platform for its confidentiality-assured section. Prostitution, adultery and most forms of licentious behavior are still illegal under Indian penal codes. But the government of India has denied the nation’s ancient prudish tradition by accepting free sex as a fait accompli. Conservative groups resent the government’s attitudes on sexual morality – as manifested in the contentious “sex education” format which turns a blind eye to traditional concepts like virginity before marriage, abstention, etc.—and urge the reconstruction of old barriers. A thriving liberal media blocks all debate on the cavalier attitude towards free sex, prostitution, trafficking and black balls all who protest as “moral police”, “anti-technology”,etc.<br /> </span></div>Somanjanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06179416172754294326noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456077671089469591.post-34471716500319582682008-12-18T14:53:00.000-08:002008-12-19T09:28:15.771-08:00<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">I just watched the Hindi remake of Husbands and Wives on Bhejafry.net! Well, as you can imagine, when the topic is something like love-life outside wedlock, the protagonists being skeptic & experimental conjugal partners, our Bollywood rookies got to make it a bit corny. But overall, it’s a good copy and copy it is, scene by scene, dialogue by dialogue. One thing that I’d like to mention, none of the couples looked old enough to be facing midlife crises and Konkona of all didn’t look like to be twice divorced and thrice married! Besides, the voice of the inquisitor, that of the shrink in the original, sounded too young and jovial, something like the interviewers of MTV roadshows that quite didn’t fit with the mood of the movie and what ‘bout some sensible nomenclature? An introspective, psycho-analytical satire named: <em>Dil Kabaddi</em>??!!</span></div>Somanjanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06179416172754294326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456077671089469591.post-91102122034093898582008-11-30T10:07:00.000-08:002008-11-30T10:09:22.691-08:00Bombay of my dreams…<div align="justify">It was the day when I made pav bhaji for my American colleagues for the first time that I heard the shocking news of the latest terrorist attacks in Bombay. CNN, along with all other major American news channels constantly showed the scorched portions of The Oberoi, the deserted portico of the Taj with terrible statistics of the casualty. For a moment I did not know how to react. It was so hard to believe what was going on. The chief of anti-terrorist squad shot dead? 350 people injured? Shoot out in VT! I recalled the stream of people I know who have made Bombay their home. My maternal aunt being one. So many of my college friends who are thriving in the media industry…my sis-in-law’s family..and many more. All those people, who are not Maharashtrians yet so Bombayite! So jovial, full of life and spirit, just like the city itself. Now what?<br /><br />At the site of the Taj, memories rushed back to me of the times I spent in this city of boundless dreams. I lived right there, just behind the Taj, in the Salvation Army hostel, amongst the bustling crowd of Colaba where the locals, the Arabs, the migrants, the celebs, the beggars mingled effortlessly. I particularly remember this little boy of five or six, always in rags, running after the foreigners around the Gateway, asking for dough while talking to them in all sorts of foreign languages. I could identify Urdu and French…the rest I didn’t know.<br /><br />And my Moslem friend Suhail who would treat us pav bhaji at the Chowpatty, all of us still in college savoring the taste of junk food and that of ultimate freedom. Soon the lights of the skyscrapers would meet the twinkling stars and together they’d adorn the colors of the evening sky in the backdrop of the roaring sea, in front of a million people waking up at dusk. Amalgamation at its best, huh! I witnessed those days when a wave of humanity, Hindus, Moslems, Persians, Sindhis, Jews and everyone else would walk into VT, yes to catch a train, but also to find a place in this world, with their spirits soaring high, in anticipation of a better tomorrow.<br /><br />Now I see the media clippings of the dead and the decayed and I wonder, is this the city of my dreams? Mortified! Languished in the flames of hatred and disharmony! Bruised by those, who don’t belong, don’t assimilate, nor appreciate the essence of human hallmark. Yet, this tiny atom of my buoyant mind refuses to give in. It lurks around the troughs of terror to touch upon the promises of thriving humanity. Mayhem in Mumbai is not uncommon but forlorn mindset is. That’s what we should be guarding right now. They hit upon the historical concretes but they can’t injure the history of our valiant races. Those ever effervescent people, the unity in diversity, the sunset at Marine Drive, the smell of sand, soil and snacks in Juhu, the creative hubs of Goregaon, the brokers at Dalal Street, the hawkers at Chowpatty …they’ll survive. I, like the millions of Bombayites would wait for yet another fearless, awe-inspiring, exhilarating dawn in the Indian shores of the Arabian sea.</div>Somanjanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06179416172754294326noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456077671089469591.post-46164279249553435592008-11-13T20:34:00.000-08:002008-11-17T14:31:34.036-08:00Husbands and Wives…<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">A few weeks back Mouli introduced me to the works of Woody Allen. Initially I was a bit skeptical to experiment. Isn’t our very own Mrinal Sen enough? Just add a little pun intended comedy to it…Why go through another set of high dose intellectual-society bashing crap? How wrong I was!<br /><br />I thank America, as these weren’t easily available in my country (and Mouli of course!) to give me the chance to experience such masterpieces like Love and Death, Manhattan, Crimes and Misdemeanors etc but I’ll leave the details of these movies for some other day.<br /><br />Today, I’ll talk about this film of his that I saw last week. Husbands and Wives. Oh yeah, the name is intriguing and more challenging is its characters. The people that can totally engulf you and throw you to this crazy world of love-hate-expectations-disappointments-second thoughts-resolutions-insecurity-infamy…the list can go on. This world called ‘marriage’ that almost all of us experience at some point in our lives.<br /><br />In this film, we get to witness the trajectory of two married couples: nice and happy, established in their respective fields, working hard and partying harder with their fellow society elements.<br /><br />One fine day, evening rather one of the couples, Sally and Jack happily announce that they are getting separated as they both want to relive their bachelor days. Their friends Gabe (Woody Allen) and Judy (Mia Farrow) are naturally shell-shocked and they couldn’t believe that such a crucial decision could be taken in such flippant manner! All three other than Judy try to rationalize and re-rationalize the situation, ultimately confusing it even more. Judy in the meanwhile shuts herself off traumatized.<br /><br />In effect, this incident opens up all the four concerned individuals’ mind-eyes and they begin to analyze their conjugal existence in a different light. The newly separated couple Sally and Jack, just to prove a point, start dating their new-found interests respectively, people who are completely different from their earlier partners, making themselves miserable in the process and always turning green seeing or hearing about their partners’ roaring romance.<br /><br />On the other hand, Gabe realizes that he always envied his fellow professors for leading a promiscuous life, flirting and sleeping with young, bright and beautiful students whereas he only admired them from a distance, being faithful to the sanctity of marriage. So at this point, the morality-rope snaps and he finds himself getting closer to a worshipping pupil.<br /><br />Gale’s wife Judy tries to bring some excitement to Sally’s life by introducing her colleague, only to realize that she herself has fallen for his chivalrous charms.<br /><br />Amid, much psychobabbles, self-introspection, spouse-reflection and frequent visits to the shrink, the separated couples get together and the filial part their ways. </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />So, do I call it a happy ending? Did they get what they wanted? If yes, then why started the drama in the beginning? If no, then why chose an inconsequential definitive? The story doesn’t tell and you know what, husbands and wives are the last people to be able to throw some light on it!!<br /><br /></div></span>Somanjanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06179416172754294326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456077671089469591.post-45811493782919521742008-11-05T11:03:00.000-08:002008-11-05T11:05:21.581-08:00Yes, we can!<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">Last night in the presence of 100, 000 screaming crowd in Grant park, Chicago, making the dreams a reality for millions of Americans and in front of billions of ecstatic viewers glued to their TV sets worldwide, Barack Obama created history. He was declared the 44th president of the United States of America.<br /><br />Now, you may ask, why me, an Indian is so awed by his success as we have many achievements of our own, after being oppressed by the white Westerners because of our skin color for 300 years.<br /><br />Well his race to the White House was not about race. To my utter astonishment it did matter to a few southern states like Oklahoma, Georgia or the Texan mid-west but for the majority of the Americans who followed the last 21 months of his extra-ordinary campaign, would agree with me that Barack Obama rose beyond class distinction, racial discrimination and partisan politics to say the least.<br /><br />He emerged at a time when supposedly the greatest nation on Earth fought against a battered existence with millions of job-cuts, thousands of people going homeless, more<br />suffocating under healthcare debts, two wars, trillions of debt in the world market and the Wall Street crushing---could it be any worse?<br /><br />Yet, instead of imposing fear and insecurity like the Bush regime, resisting the urge of dirty politics that was so prevalent in the Hillary Clinton campaign, not serenading the past like McCain but looking forward, ignoring the glitz and glamour quotient of Palin and the media, Barack Obama, solely, with his intellect, oratory and vision uplifted the wretched and the confused from the black holes of the past. He inspired. He illuminated. He ushered all to the arduous path to build America again from the bottom-up. He never claimed his fame. He merely acknowledged his duty with great humility.<br /><br />At this juncture, I could only hope and pray that during my lifetime I’ll be able to witness a true leader, an honest visionary like Obama in my own country, who would preach the mantra of unity in diversity and bring back the lost hope, courage and dignity in the battleground of Indian politics. The stakes were high for him too. The ratios existed. (he got 96% of Black votes, 69% of Latino votes and 68% from first time voters) yet, all he could talk about during his entire campaign tenure was that he is not running for a Black America or a White America but for the United States of America. And, his thoughts reverberated through the vast domains of this effervescent country.<br /><br />For once this election proved that progressive thinking triumphs over bigoted views, hope conquers over despair, that substance rules over style and honesty still has a place in the dictionary.<br /><br />So, to my folks in politics back home, if you have your priorities right, we too, can make a difference. Yes, we can!<br /><br /><br /></span><br /><br /> </div>Somanjanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06179416172754294326noreply@blogger.com2