Balaka Basu's Blog, page 14

Review of “Born a Crime” by Trevor Noah #ReadBravely

I fell in love with Trevor Noah and his sexy dimple almost a year back when I bumped into one of his stand-up comedy shows on YouTube. Ever since there has been no looking back and I have possibly watched all his shows that are available online including the famous Netflix show ‘Son of Patricia‘. No wonder that I was curious to read his book ‘Born a Crime‘ which is almost an extension of his show ‘Son of Patricia’.

‘Born a Crime‘ is a book that talks about South Africa and its apartheid but it is not restricted to only that. This book is a tribute to Trevor Noah’s mother and he shows what an indomitable spirit his mother is. She is not a typical feminist but she does things that even so-called feminists would be afraid to do. Her whole life is about taking risks. On many occasions, she fails but then she picks up herself again and starts a new journey. Trevor doesn’t try to hide the flaws of his mother but he is never judgemental. He neither worships nor denigrates her. He shows her exactly the way she is. A strong uninhibited woman who is not afraid to take risks, a true fighter and even a bullet to her head couldn’t stop her.

Trevor acquaints the reader with his complex life. His hardship, his struggle to find his true identity in post-apartheid South Africa, his struggle to earn money and lastly his struggle to stay strong against his abusive step-father. He talks about his troubled life even during his stand-up shows however in this book he doesn’t try to masquerade it with humor and shows the ruthless reality. There is no pretense and he unabashedly talks about how he used to sell pirated DVDs, how he used to never leave any opportunity to earn money without bothering if it was legal or illegal, he also gives us a detailed description of his imprisonment. He introduces us to an opportunistic characteristic of his personality and without mincing words he acknowledges that this nature helped him climb the ladder.

Trevor also talks about his love interests and how he was turned down by girls. He is not scared to show his vulnerabilities. Part II of the book is entirely dedicated to his ‘affairs of the heart’. This book gives us a great picture of South Africa after apartheid was lifted and it is at times a picture of hope and at times despair.

The problem with the narrative is that it doesn’t follow the events chronologically and is thrown haphazardly, which is confusing for the readers at times. However, overall it is a fast-paced narrative and there is hardly any scope for the reader to get bored.

[image error]

Twenty Years Ago…..#wordsmatter

20 years ago, I was a naive and hyper-sensitive college girl who used to get hurt by simple things.

20 years ago, I believed true love existed.

20 years ago, I was innocent and loyal.

20 years ago, I used to be possessive of my friends.

20 years ago, I believed that friends are forever and they never leave you.

20 years ago my best friend from school suddenly realized that I was boring.

20 years ago my friends didn’t like hanging out with me.

20 years ago, I believed that promises are true and meant to be kept.

20 years ago, I was shy and lacked confidence.

20 years ago, I was scared to take risks and always followed the rules.

20 years ago, I used to cry in silence.

20 years ago I was grieving the death of my Mom.

20 years ago, I felt like the ugliest girl on Earth.

20 years ago, my classmates thought I was a sad girl.

20 years ago, I was a clingy girl who used to get anxious.

20 years ago, I was everything that I am not today.

With each passing day, I changed a bit, toughened a bit, and like Kafka’s Gregor Samsa, I metamorphosed into something else. A tougher, nastier, more confident, more lethal, more powerful, ‘metamorphosed’ version of a girl who lived twenty years ago.

I received this tag from Vinay R at I Rhyme without Reason. It’s my pleasure to pass on this tag to Reema D’Souza at The Write World. There are 29  of us on this Blog Hop and it will be spread over 3 days – 1st, 2nd and 3rd November  2019. Do follow the #WordsMatter Blog Hop and prepare to be surprised! 

[image error]

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

 

Heal the World #MondayMusing

Being happy was effortless when we were kids, however, now all of us have to put effort and literally work hard to be or feel happy. There are now happiness coaches who teach us how to be happy, it is no more a natural and organic thing. So many of us visit psychotherapists or counselors. We do yoga, we do pranayam, we do kickboxing and so many other things just to feel happy. It makes me wonder what changed in this world that all of us are becoming so sad.

Whenever I call a friend or cousin the first thing I hear is ‘oh am so stressed’ or else some unhappy story. Is ‘being unhappy’ gradually becoming the new ‘trend’? People are desperately searching for happiness. Every single one of us. People are no longer happy with their jobs, their homes, their partners, their parents, their kids, their neighbors, the news, the world, Donald Trump, Narendra Modi, we are just unhappy with everything. There are dedicated websites and blogs trying to teach us how to be happy.

When I was a child everything made me happy, a butterfly, a rainbow, a letter from my NRI masi, a phone call from my best friend, a visit to my cousin’s house, a glimpse of my crush riding his bicycle, Durga Puja, Holi, Diwali and ‘happy new year’, everything made me so happy but today none of the above incite any joy in me. I am sure ‘unhappiness’ is becoming contagious, unhappiness has turned into a global epidemic. The only ones benefitting from this are the manufacturers of anti-depressants and drug peddlers.

Why do the same things that made me happy once doesn’t excite me anymore? When was the last time when I genuinely felt happy? When was the last time that I laughed so hard that my stomach ached? when was the last time a butterfly made me feel blessed? Well, the truth is I haven’t seen a butterfly in the longest time.

I am becoming unhappy because I am now living in a concrete jungle far away from nature. Growing up in Sikkim, I was blessed to be surrounded by nature that made me feel so calm and happy. I am becoming unhappy because I have too many expectations. I am becoming unhappy because I compare my life with others. I am becoming unhappy because each day all of us becoming lonelier. While growing up my neighbors were almost like my family. But, now I hardly know who lives next door. All of us are becoming connected on social media but in real life, we are becoming lonely. It is not unique to me but all of us are going through the same.

In the end, I would like to summarise that we are not leaving a happy world for our kids. Therefore, it is time we take control of this world and make it a better place. We need to have more love, compassion and empathy in our hearts to make this world a better place. Let me sign off with the lyrics of MJ’s ‘heal the world’ song.

There’s a place in your heart

And I know that it is love

And this place could be much

Brighter than tomorrow

And if you really try

You’ll find there’s no need to cry

In this place you’ll feel

There’s no hurt or sorrow
There are ways to get there

If you care enough for the living

Make a little space

Make a better place
Heal the world

Make it a better place

For you and for me

And the entire human race

There are people dying

If you care enough for the living

Make it a better place

For you and for me
If you want to know why

There’s love that cannot lie

Love is strong

It only cares of joyful giving

If we try we shall see

In this bliss we cannot feel

Fear of dread

We stop existing and start living
The it feels that always

Love’s enough for us growing

So make…

Stop Felling Trees #ThursdayTreeLove

I live in a city where recently 2000 trees were brutally chopped down against the will of the citizens. Therefore, I appreciate Parul that she encourages us to click photos of trees and show love to them. These trees were clicked during one of our road trips to Pune, however, I am scared that maybe during my next trip they won’t be anymore and a huge flyover would have taken their place. Linking this post to #ThursdayTreeLove hosted by Parul.

[image error]

Why Bengalis Eat Non-Vegetarian Food During Durga Puja #wordsmatter

It’s not that time of the year without noise, celebrations, festivities, laughter, new clothes, makeup, adda with friends and family and most importantly pandal hopping and gorging on Bengali delicacies. This is the time when Bengalis all over the world celebrate the biggest festival in a Bong’s calendar, Durga Puja.

For most Indians, Diwali is the biggest festival but for the Bongs, Diwali is ‘one of the festivals’ but definitely not the main. We have Durga Puja, Laxmi Puja, Saraswati Puja (which is often referred to as Bengali Valentine’s day), nabo barsho and then Diwali. However, for the diaspora Bongs Diwali is gradually climbing up the chart. Especially for the diaspora-second-generation.

I am often asked by my “Non-Bengali” friends that why do we eat so much non-vegetarian food during Durga Puja, while the rest of India fasts and almost goes vegan during Navratri. My brother’s wife who is Gujrati almost got a heart attack when she saw us eating a double egg chicken roll on Mahashtami night. It was scandalously blasphemous for her, a shock that she has not overcome even after eight years of being married to a Bong man.

The reply is simple- There are two reasons why we do that (and if you are a Bong who has been asked this question please next time refer to this). The first reason is that Durga is a form of Shakti, she is a warrior goddess who was specifically created to go to war and kill demons. She was assigned to do a task that male Gods were unable to accomplish. Can you really send someone to war after feeding them a vegan diet? Would she have been able to defeat Mahisashura had she fed on dhokla and idli? Seriously?? She had to be given a high protein keto diet that would give energy, stamina, and strengths to her muscles, therefore, we unapologetically feed our Goddess with high protein diet and as her ardent follower we also follow the same protein diet and thus all Durga Puja pandals smell of egg roll, fish cutlet, mutton biryani, prawn pakoras, and chicken kabiraji. YUMMMM!!!!!

The second colloquial reason is that we worship Durga as a daughter who comes to her baper bari or maika (parent’s home) after a year, along with her kids, pets, and Mahisashura (poor fellow lost one war and became a slave for the whole life, Trevor Noah would surely find an apartheid angle in this). Ideally, when a Bong girl comes home her mother doesn’t feed her vegetarian food, rather she is served the likes of bhaat, kosha mangsho, rui macher kalia, ilish bhapa, chingri malaikari, chitol macher muitha and some vegetarian dishes like aloo dum, posto, beguni etc are thrown as side dishes. Their role in the menu is almost similar to the role of Katrina Kaif in a Salman Khan movie. Any Bong mom would die of shame, guilt, and depression if she is not able to feed her daughter fish and chicken when she comes over. So, when our daughter Ma Durga comes how can we make her eat only vegetarian food.  So all of us and our goddess eat non-vegetarian happily while naysayers keep holding their eyeballs from popping out.

I am all set for the puja. Are you?? May the festivities begin. Let good win over evil. Let Ma Durga fight the demons of climate change this year. Wishing all my readers a Happy Durga Puja and a Happy Navratri.

I received this tag from Shalini R at Kohl Eyed Me. It’s my pleasure to pass on this tag to Apeksha Rao at ApekshaRao.com. There are 38 of us on this Blog Hop and it will be spread over 3 days – 4, 5, 6 October  2019. Do follow the #WordsMatter Blog Hop and prepare to be surprised! Let us have a wonderful celebration of words during this festival season -because Words Matter!

 

Never Neglect the Clock #WordlessWednesday

[image error]

This is the famous Astronomical Clock of Prague. Local legend is that the city will suffer if the clock is neglected. No wonder, when I visited, I found it under repairs. Nevertheless, the beauty was prominent even amidst the repair work.

Linking this to Wordless Wednesday hosted by Natasha and Esha.

 

My Roman Holiday- Rome Walking Tour #wanderfulwednesday

My mother’s favorite movie was “Roman Holiday“. She used to keep talking about the debonair Gregory Peck and the effervescent Audrey Hepburn. I could never watch the movie with Ma. I watched it long after she passed away. However, the moment the movie started, I had a “love at first sight” moment with Peck, Hepburn, and Rome. Visiting Rome was a much-cherished dream and I tried to enjoy every nano-second of my stay in Rome. I am sure Ma was with me all through the trip.

Unlike Pisa or Firenze stations, Roma Termini is quite crowded and almost a European version of CST station. It was quite late in the night when we reached but Rome was quite awake. Most places in Europe become deserted in the evening, especially during winter months but Rome felt like an exception.

I covered almost all the major tourist attractions of Rome on foot in a day, except the Vatican. In Italy, every first Sunday of the month most tourist attractions including the Colosseum is free of charge. The last Sunday of the month the entrance to the Vatican is free. Initially, I felt it was going to be a tourist hack but in reality, it turned out some kind of scam.

Colosseum

Expectation: I planned the Rome trip in such a way that I was there on the first Sunday of the month. I reached before 8 am, the official opening time for the Colosseum. I expected there would not be too much of a crowd (it was winter and off-season for tourists) and I would have a cakewalk (The Academy in Florence had raised my expectation, as there we were the only tourists standing in the queue).

Reality: The queue in front of Colosseum would have given the queue in Tirupathi a run for its money. It was 8 am on a cold Sunday morning and thousands of people were already in the queue. Even though it was a Free day, yet most tourists were buying ‘skip the queue‘ tickets from travel agents. Normal tickets to the Colosseum on a weekday cost 10 euros but ironically on a ‘Free Sunday” people were paying ten times more to enter.

[image error]

Roman Forum

The Roman Forum is located right next to the Colosseum and covers a large area. It is a beautiful place and would attract anybody who has an interest in history. As the area is mostly ruined one has to be careful while walking. The area becomes vibrant on a Sunday due to the presence of huge number of talented street performers.

[image error]

Piazza di Venezia

This place looks way better at night when it gets illuminated, however, it looked beautiful even during the day.

[image error]

Trevi Fountain

All Roman Holiday Fans remember Trevi Fountain. This is the place where Audrey Hepburn’s character got the famous pixie cut. This is also the place where she dropped the coin to grant wishes.

Expectation: I would walk there like Audrey, stand in front of the fountain, click a nice photo and then roam around and do window shopping like her and perhaps get a haircut.

Reality: Literally had to jostle with the crowd to reach the fountain. The whole place was swarming with people. There were homeless people, beggars, and pickpockets(?) all around. Hardly could wait there for long due to the crowd. There was a Macdonalds and people were standing in a serpentine queue in front of it. The queue was not for a burger but to use the washroom, as public washrooms in Rome are expensive.

[image error] [image error]

Pantheon

This was relatively less crowded and we could get inside easily. The huge round hole in the ceiling of the Pantheon is what makes this structure stand apart.

[image error]

Piazza Navona

Rome is full of Piazzas. This was a nice place where we sat down for a while to rest our tired legs. The place is open and has a nice vibe.

[image error] [image error] [image error]

Spanish Steps

A long scene of Roman Holiday was shot on the Spanish steps. However, now the Roman municipality has banned people sitting on the steps. Thankfully when I was there sitting was still allowed. It was overcrowded and hardly had any resemblance to the steps of Roman Holiday.

[image error]

[image error]

The narrow lane that leads to the Spanish Steps resembles any overcrowded market area in India during Diwali/Durga Puja. I almost had a deja vu. The only difference was that the lane had designer brands like MK, Gucci, Prada, Versace, and Jimmy Choo and not our  Kirorimal stores, Bata, Hussain Tailors or Dhakeswari Bastralaya.

[image error]

This was our last attraction for the day. We used Google maps and GPS to create our own walking tour. It not only saved us money but we were also able to soak in the local culture and explore Rome like the Romans. The only thing that remained unfulfilled was riding pillion on a Vespa with Gregory Peck.

How to Blog Consistently #MondayMusing

I love to write but often life and its numerous chores take over and writing takes a backstage. It happens with all of us. A part of us wants to write but we can’t.

Life has been hectic last couple of months and blogging took the burnt of it. However, I would not blame my hectic schedule but would take responsibility and confess that perhaps not having a dedicated routine for blogging is making it difficult for me to post.

[image error]

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

A year back, I used to publish frequently, almost thrice a week. I could do that because I had a routine and a dedicated time for blogging. However, I became complacent and stopped having any time slot for blogging and my readers can see the result.

I do think of writing daily but after opening the laptop, I often find myself watching meme videos on Facebook or checking Instagram stories or worse getting hooked to Netflix. At times I also end up replying to work emails and in the mayhem completely forget the topic I was planning to write for my blog. However, I want to salvage and here I am subscribing to the following habits. If you are a blogger who lacks consistency in blogging frequency then you can also follow the tips.

[image error]

Photo by rawpixel.com on Pexels.com

Tips to Blog Consistently

Dedicated Time: Have a dedicated time. Put an alarm on your mobile so that you never miss it. Once the alarm rings, stop doing whatever else you were doing and sit down to write.
One hour: Write at least for an hour every day.
Avoid Distractions: When you sit down to write try to avoid replying to calls, messages, emails, and comments. If possible log out from social media and write for an hour undisturbed.
List of Topics: Make a list of topics for the entire week. Try to adhere to the topics.
Write Minimum 300 words: Start writing on the decided topic and don’t stop unless you complete a minimum 300 words. Even if they sound gibberish and full of mistakes even then write 300 words non-stop.
Edit: After finishing 300 words or more as long as you feel the flow, edit and proof-read what you have written.
Improvise: There is always scope for improvement and try to make your content as enriching as possible.
Post: Publish the post

[image error]

Photo by rawpixel.com on Pexels.com

 

I wrote this post in 45 minutes, I didn’t stop writing until I completed 300 words and this post contains 418 words.

We lost the Anchor of the Family

I lost my Baro Mama (eldest maternal uncle) on Monday. He was ninety years old and bedridden since quite some time. In a way it was good that he was relieved of the pain, however, we not only lost our Uncle but the anchor of our family. He was like that huge and ancient banyan tree that gives shelter to birds, animals and humans alike. Mama was an intriguing personality and I have never seen anyone like him in my entire life.

My maternal grandmother gave birth to nine kids, and barely a few months after the ninth delivery she died of anemia. It seems odd to hear that someone could die of anemia but back in those women did die of anemia. She was being treated by the legendary doctor Bidhan Chandra Roy, who was not only a phenomenal doctor but also the first chief minister of West Bengal. It is tragic even he couldn’t save grandma. When she died my youngest Uncle was barely a few months old and Baro Mama was in his teens. The family had recently shifted from the Mymensingh district of erstwhile East Pakistan, now Bangladesh. They had left almost everything back in Mymensingh and were in dire financial crisis. My grandfather was the only earning member and he had nine kids and four brothers to feed. Grandma’s death brought about added misfortune. That is when Baro Mama stepped in as the de facto guardian. He took charge of his siblings and also gave up his studies and took up a job. Later on, he completed his education through correspondence.

To his siblings, he turned into a strict disciplinarian, and they feared him like hell. They were so scared of them that they didn’t even have the courage to speak to him. I remember during my childhood I never saw my younger Uncles and Aunts speaking to him directly. Out of his eight siblings barely three spoke to him but the youngest five never ever spoke to him directly. Whenever they wanted to tell him something they used to do it through a messenger, it used to be my Mami (his wife), his kids or his nephews and nieces. Even, my granddad was afraid to speak to him directly.

I don’t recollect any memory of my mother speaking to him till she died. Even though Baro Mama was a strict disciplinarian, he loved his siblings like crazy. I remember one incident where I saw this love. When my Ma was hospitalized, one day she expressed her desire to eat rice, she was hardly eating anything and therefore it was a big deal that she wanted something to eat. It was early in the morning when she wanted to eat, Baro Mama came home and found everyone else sleeping. He didn’t want to disturb anybody, he went to the kitchen, he used to never enter the kitchen but that day in the wee hours of the morning he cooked rice and took it to the hospital to give his dying sister.

Even though he was strict towards his siblings, he was the most fun person with his nephews and nieces. None of us were ever scared of him. In fact, I always found it strange that Ma and others were so scared of him. My favorite childhood sport was punching Baro Mama hard and pulling his hair. Whenever I used to come for my vacation he used to be my punching bag, kicking, punching, scratching, biting and all kinds of torture I used to inflict on him. When we grew little older I started getting the taste of his dry humor. So many times he had said something with a nonchalant face and all of us have burst out laughing.

My son used to be extremely hyperactive as a kid. One day he broke my Mama’s torch. Mama called me with a serious phase and said: “porer bar cheleke niye ele security deposit diye asbi” (next time if you come with your son, please deposit a security amount). He was equally playful with the grandkids and my son also did the same fun things with him that I did as a kid.

Baro Mama’s house was no less than a dharamshala. Throughout the year it used to be full of guests. At any given time there used to be fifteen people. I don’t remember finding his house empty ever. His siblings used to come all through the year but also numerous others used to come. Some were distant relatives; some were cousins, neighbors, and friends. The house used to bustle with chats and laughter all the time.

With him, a part of my childhood went away forever. Few of my happiest memories were linked to him. So many stories would remain untold because it went away with him. An entire generation and its memories went away with him. May his soul rest in peace.

 

The Facade of a ‘Nice Guy’#MondayMusings

Let’s talk about boys today…

I know I am a middle-aged Aunty and shouldn’t be talking about boys, but the other day few of us friends gathered for coffee and after our usual discussion of homework of kids, irritating habits of spouses, latest antics of moms-in-law, illogical bosses, latest shopping mall discounts, grocery prices etc we started gossiping about a lady who recently left her “nice” white-collar husband and decided to start living with another man, who is apparently a struggler in the Mumbai film industry, unlike the lady’s husband this fellow seems bohemian and we unanimously decided she made a mistake.

But, pause here, as we started gossiping the only single friend in our group G said that she recently ghosted a “nice” guy whom she met through a dating app. She said that at times the “nice” guys are worse than the ‘rogue’ ones. Let us hear it from G why she did this:

“Recently I ghosted a guy. I am not proud of that because I am the kind of person who would not want to do something to someone that I do not want to happen to myself. However, this time I had no other way out. I got the vibe that this person wouldn’t let me break up with him in a proper way without creating an emotional mess so the only option was to ghost him.

I had met this guy through Tinder. His profile looked honest and decent. As you may be aware that Tinder is full of creeps and most men there would send you a d**k pic after saying ‘hi’ or ask for a nude picture of you. Finding a decent guy on ‘Indian’ Tinder is like finding a needle in a haystack. Therefore, this guy felt like a rare gem.

We started talking, he started telling me about his family, school life, childhood, job, college days and it felt kind of good talking to him. He seemed extremely caring and always used to ask me about my day, health and well being.

Everything was going on fine until I started feeling a certain discomfort that I couldn’t put my finger on. I realized that instead of looking forward to his messages I had unknowingly started dreading it. I was not understanding why I was feeling so uninterested and uncomfortable about this apparently “decent” guy.

Then I sat down, calmed myself and started analyzing my discomfort and found that he was sending me too many messages, asking me too many questions, giving too many advice, was pestering me to lose weight as he felt that would make me prettier, was literally keeping track of my daily schedule and often felt hurt if I did anything without informing him, the guy had no hobbies, no friends, no sense of humor, he was polite but predictable and the worst was he had started assuming me as his girlfriend even before I had committed. In the end, I felt he was nice but boring and having a meaningful conversation with him was difficult as he had no insights and it was mostly me talking and he listening. One way conversations are as good as talking to a wall.”

After listening to G, I felt, it is good to message throughout the day. It can mean that he wants to spend a lot of time staying connected but it would also mean he has nothing else to do in life. This is a sign of clinginess. Asking your girlfriend throughout the day what she is doing may seem innocent but it is also a sign of keeping a track on her. It is a way to have complete control over her schedule. G said that one day she went for a movie without telling him and he seemed upset. He got upset because that is when he felt vulnerable and out of control. Most control freaks start quite innocently in the disguise of being caring but later on, it turns out to be their way of controlling.

He wanted G to lose weight to look prettier. Losing weight is good from the angle of ‘health’ and not ‘beauty’. This ‘nice’ guy was already body-shaming G even before they got into a proper relationship. This nice guy was inquisitive to know about the ex-boyfriends of G and he even asked her which of her ex-boyfriends was the best. This clearly shows how insecure Mr. Nice guy is. Isn’t this the most ridiculous and archaic question any man can ask. Apparently, this guy had no ex-girlfriend ( I am sure he didn’t).

G is an extrovert, talkative, attractive and intelligent girl. She loves to read books, watch Netflix, go out for movies. However, this man has no hobbies and friends. He is either busy in the office or texting G that he doesn’t get time to do anything else.

Apparently, this man was caring, nice and polite but this is what I call the ‘facade of a nice man‘. In reality, they are ‘passive-aggressive’ ‘clingy’ ‘boring’ and ‘control freaks’.  If you remember the character of Subodh from Dil Chahta hai, you would get the drift. I asked G not to feel guilty about ‘ghosting’ him ( even though I do not like the concept of Ghosting). I am sure she would find a genuinely nice guy who is not boring, clingy or controlling.

[image error]

[image error]