Balaka Basu's Blog, page 20

Tree Love in Florence- #ThursdayTreeLove53

“Someone’s sitting in the shade today because someone planted a tree a long time ago.”

―   Warren Buffett

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I was inside a Bus in Florence when I spotted this tree with yellow leaves. Immediately I fell in love with it. Clicking from a moving bus is not easy but somehow I managed.  Hope all of you fall in love with it as well.

Linking this post to Parul’s #Thursday Tree Love

Christmas Book Tree- #wordlesswednesday

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I came across this Christmas Tree in one of the bookshops in Rome, Italy. This is a dream tree for any bibliophile and I loved every bit of it.

Joining Natasha and Esha for #WordlessWednesday.

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Paris- Story of Immigrants, Beggars and Yellow Vests

When my flight was about to touch the runway of Charles-De-Gaulle airport, I could see the thick clouds from the small window of the plane. Within moments rainwater lashed on the windowpane with a loud crackling sound. I understood that Paris was welcoming me with rain and thunderstorm. This was not exactly what I would have preferred. However, what else could I have expected in November end?

Charles de Gaulle was confusing enough to make me run from one direction to the other in search of the exit. In the flight, there was another Indian guy, I found him equally fumbling, looking for the exit. I went near him and asked, “are you looking for the exit?” He nodded excitedly, the usual excitement that we feel when we meet another confused desi in a foreign land. He said he was doing Ph.D. from IIT Delhi and had come to Paris for a seminar. The ‘introductory’ conversation went on while we searched the exit.

As the saying in Hindi goes “ek se bhale do” and together we found the exit. We took the airport shuttle and went to Terminal 1 from where we wanted to take the airport train to the Gare Du Nord station in Paris city. The airport internal shuttle is free but for the RER train, we had to buy tickets.

There was a huge queue in front of the ticket vending machine. We stood patiently and then when our turn came we fumbled. Our forex cards were not working and we had no coins. Helplessly we looked around and an African-French man came to our rescue. He patiently explained us the process and even stood there like a diligent teacher till we got the tickets. “Merci Beaucoup” I said before leaving.

The view of rainy Paris suburbs from the train was mesmerizing for our third world eyes.  We were enjoying every bit of the suburbs and French countryside. The empty stations, the small row houses, the leafless branches, the almost empty roads were just magnifying our French infatuation. However, the infatuation didn’t last long as soon factory chimneys and malls started obstructing views. The view inside the train was also like a distant cousin of our very own Virar local with beggars and homeless people asking for money exactly the way they do in India. Well, not exactly the same because here beggars are literate and they distribute leaflets to beg. In India, beggars appeal to your pity but in Paris, they appeal to your guilt.

When foreigners come to India they make it a point to click the photos of poor people, our dirt, our slums, our beggars and our potholes. Maybe this is the time we Indians also start doing the same. We should also start clicking their potholes, homeless people, the beggars, the substance addicts and other street urchins that populate the streets of western countries. Strangely when I visited a small country Bhutan I did not find a single homeless person or a beggar. Yet all of us are busy fantasizing about the West. This time I even saw huge rodents running on the streets of Paris. The Paris metro was heavy with the smell of urine and the streets of Paris were full of dog poop.

The place where I stayed near the Gare Du Nord train station resembled a set for a mafia movie. The shops were full of Chinese goods. The streets were full of immigrants (probably most of them illegal) from Africa and Arab countries. The Estacao Barbes- Rochechouart metro station near my accommodation was one of the filthiest stations that I have ever seen.  Each time I went out the guy at the reception warned me of pickpockets. There was a Burger King outlet nearby and the girl at the counter also warned me of pickpockets and muggers. The place used to get really scary at night.

The “yellow vest” movement was brewing while I was in Paris and the whole city had an alarmingly anxious and tensed ambiance. Police and barricades were everywhere. The Christmas season was overlapped with the tensed atmosphere.  Paris is a dream destination for many including myself but the Paris I saw this time was very different from the usual city of lights, this time it looked dark and sinister. The cloud that welcomed me to Paris now seemed like an allegory.

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October Gratitude List #MondayMusings

Unlike the previous months, October was amazing. It was erratically hectic yet amazing. The best thing about this month was that I am finally out of my depressive phase. I am again feeling my usual happy-go-lucky self. Thanks to all of you for your constant support and encouragement. Let me list down the things I did this month.

Inktober: In school, I was my art teacher’s nightmare. I guess it was a mutual relationship where both of us dreaded each other. I always hated the art and craft class and the stitching class. In all the ‘sit and draw’ competitions that my mother used to enthusiastically push me to take part, I used to consistently procure the last position. I still remember that in most of those competitions they used to hang the drawings after the competition and mine used to hang in one corner and most people used to either laugh at them or try hard to suppress their laughter looking at my drawing. After enough humiliation, I stopped taking part. It was such a relief for both me and others. However, later in life when I was in college I once painted a couple of t-shirts and gifted them to a friend and another to my cousin. My friend till date has that as a keepsake. So sweet of him.

My major artwork started after I became a mother. My son loves to do art and craft and in order to keep him busy, I used to do a lot of art and craft stuff with him. However, I had still never thought of majorly drawing anything.

Finally, in October I gathered the courage to take part in the Inktober2018 Challenge. I did a whole lot of drawing and loved every single bit of it. I was also humbled to receive appreciation from many fellow Inktober fellows.

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Italian: I made good progress in Italian and now “so scrivere e leggere en Italiano”. I always feel excited before my Italian lesson and literally look forward to it. Hope to be able to write an entire post in Italian soon.

Durga Puja: This is the time of the year when every Bengali from all over the world feels excited. This year initially I was not in a very good mood however as the festival started I couldn’t hold myself back and started enjoying fully. We did a lot of pandal hopping, had some amazing adda session with friends, ate like crazy and had awesome fun during the ‘sindoor khela’.

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Food Festival: Durga Puja is the time when we eat like crazy and this time was no exception. So each day in the afternoon I was having ‘bhog prasad’ in the pandal while at night we were indulging in chicken rolls, mutton moghlai, chicken biryani, fish cutlet, egg chop, prawn pakora, followed by mishit doi and rasogolla. It was a food fiesta.

Yellow Lover: This Durga Puja my preferred color was yellow and most of my blogger friends who follow me on social media must have noticed. This year yellow replaced my favourite black and blue. Each day I got dressed in a bright shade of yellow and immediately I felt my mood uplifted.  I even put yellow nail paint. Yellow is a bright colour and it always brings joy and sunshine in life.

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Lakshmi Puja: Five days after Durga Puja we celebrate Lakshmi Puja. I do it every year but this was the first time that friends and neighbours dropped by to enjoy prasad. Any puja or festival always becomes joyous when others join in. The whole evening was spent on fun and laughter.

No Social Media: This is the second month when I am abstaining from using social media from my mobile. Let me tell you life is beautiful without it. I hope to continue a few more months like this.

How was your October? Please do let me know. Joining Vidya Suri’s Gratitude Circle and Corinne’s #Mondaymusing.

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Linking this post to #MondayMusings hosted by dear Corinne.

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Happy to join Vidya Sury and her Gratitude Circle

The Art of Pause #FridayReflections

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My mother always said, “bobar shotru nei” (A person who cannot speak has no enemy). What she meant to say was that often we create enemies through our words and therefore if we can stay silent we can avoid a lot of clashes.

During a fight when we are angry we often say words that are hurtful but we don’t really mean them, we say them just to get a superiority in the fight. We often start a fight and after a while realize that not everything that we are saying is right, but we have large egos and most of us won’t stop and say “sorry” because that would hurt our ego. However, a wise person would have the courage to stop and admit their mistake. A foolish person would be unable to utter the golden “sorry” and hold on to the grudge while a wise person would say ‘sorry’ and move ahead in life.

There are few people who love to fight. Especially those who grew up watching their parents fight on a regular basis unknowingly imbibe the tendency to fight over trivial issues with their partners. Those who were brought up by abusive parents become an abusive parent in their own life. However, with little mindfulness, these can be avoided. This is called the “art/practice of the pause”.

When you find yourself in a situation where you are fighting, instead of trying to prove yourself right and the other person wrong and awful, just take a pause, step back, think about the situation, analyse and see if the issue is serious or trivial, let the other person vent out, do not take his/her words literally because at that moment the person is not speaking but his anger and ego is speaking. Let the heat pass and then start the conversation again.

Those who love to fight and flare up about trivial issues are slaves of their anger and ego. They are also unwise and ignorant. Those who are wise and positive souls they would never waste their time fighting and screaming at others over trivial things. Wise people value their peace of mind and they try to utilize their time doing positive and creative things instead of losing their mind on who is going to take out the trash can.

The power of silence and pause is enormous. There was a time in my life when I used to take fights very seriously. I used to cry over words that were hurled at me during fights. I used to keep those words in my heart for long and suffer the pain. To me winning in a fight was more important than winning in life. Now, I do exactly the opposite, I do not try to win a fight, rather I try to lose a fight and win in life. I have started valuing my peace of mind more than a winner’s badge over a trivial fight on who is right or wrong. This is a short life why waste it fighting over trivial unimportant things rather I should cherish the beauty of life every single moment. When I grow old I would want to have happy memories from my life.

I have learned to let go anger, thanks to my Buddhist practice, I have become calmer. I try to avoid negative and toxic situations as much as possible. However, let me confess there are times when I do lose my mind. I then regret not practicing the ‘pause’.  Buddhism says that there are 10 worlds that represent 10 life states that a human being can be in a given point of time. The 10 worlds are Hell, Hunger, Animality, Anger, Humanity, Heaven, Learning, Realisation, Bodhisattva, Buddhahood. These are ordered from the least desirable to the most desirable. The first four are referred to as the Four Evil Paths (Not only Buddhism but every single religion believes anger as a vice).

The world of anger is characterized by one’s strong attachment to the idea of one’s own superiority, stemming from ego and excessive pride. These people need to suppress everyone at any cost; this often prevents them from revealing their own true self. These people are winning battles but losing the war. In order to deal with them, it is important not to fight back but to stay calm and practice the pause. Let them say whatever they want to because what they say won’t change your reality.

Not only during a fight but whenever you face a problem try pausing for a while and see the difference. Take a pause, be quiet, sit back and relax, and with a cup of coffee enjoy the drama called life.

Joining Corrine and Shalini for Friday Reflections

Puja Memories

[image error]Thankfully, Durga Puja is over and I am back to my routine. Even though I love Durga Puja, I find it too chaotic. Each year it leaves me exhausted. Before I got married I used to spend Durga Puja in a relaxed way. Usually, my Dad and I used to go out of Kolkata and enjoy a nice vacation in some beach or hill station. Or else I used to go to one of my friend’s house and spend the Puja days enjoying the quintessential Bong food and adda (conversation). However, things changed after marriage and now I hop from one Puja Pandal to the another in Suburban Mumbai, thanks to the better half who loves “thakur dekhte jawa” (pandal hopping).

My earliest memory of puja is in Gangtok. Back in those days there used to be only one Durga Puja in Gangtok. The venue used to be West Point High School. The idol, priest and puja materials used to come from Siliguri. In the morning I and my mom used to get dressed and go to the puja pandal. We used to board either a military truck or if fortunate a jeep to go there. The whole day used to be fun. Mom and other women used to be busy doing the puja rituals while we kids used to play behind the pandal the whole day. Lunch used to be simple khichudi (puja food) and vegetables. In the evening Dad used to join us after the office, and all of us enjoyed the cultural programme and then have our dinner and come back home. On Dashami, there used to be sindoor khela and I always loved to see my mom’s enthusiasm in smearing other women with sindoor.

When we shifted to Kolkata, puja took a different turn. For the first time, I saw more than one puja pandal. I was overwhelmed and excited. Soon it became a ritual to visit pandals on Saptami. In the evening we used to board a bus and reach Gariahat. Our pandal hopping always started by visiting the “barir pujo”( puja at home, ideally Durga puja is a community affair) of my mom’s cousin near Hindusthan park. It was an erstwhile jamidaar bari (rich landlord) but when I saw them they had lost their previous grandeur, however, the pride and elegance lingered in an indiscreet way. I always loved the Prasad there. It used to taste ethereal.

We used to walk a lot in those days. I always counted the number of pandals I visited. In school we always had two things to discuss (boast about). They were the number of new clothes we received during puja and the number of pandals we visited. In both cases, we used to take the liberty of exaggeration. My Dad and I used to finish our puja parikrama with a nice moghlai parotha at a small restaurant in Bhowanipore. To this day the taste of that heavenly parantha lingers and whenever I eat moghlai paratha now I search that taste and in most cases, I am left disheartened.

When I grew a little older and entered my teens, I was allowed to go out with my friends. One of the puja days I used to go out with my school friends and another day with my para (neighborhood) friends. Gradually, puja became synonymous to newfound independence and liberty and also the opportunity to stretch my boundaries. With adolescent hormones on the rise, puja became a time to experience the forbidden. This was the time when dad allowed me to stay out of the house beyond sunset,  when Mom never objected when I used her lipstick, this was the time when grandma gave me handsome money with a grin “pujote fuchka khaas”, this was the time when Kaku never scolded me when he saw me gulping down more than 10 fuchkas. My Kaku (uncle) was dead against us eating outside. So we, including my mom and dad, always used to eat outside secretly, however, during puja I could boldly eat outside because I knew he wouldn’t object.

Things changed the year Mom passed away. That year my entire puja was spent sitting next to her bed in the hospital. The sweetness of puja was replaced by the pungent smell of hospital medicines and for few years that followed I literally hated Puja. It made me feel lonelier. Therefore I used to spend puja mostly sitting at home or visiting a friend’s house where they used to hold barir pujo.

Time is the best healer and a few years later I again got engrossed in Puja. I started choreographing and simultaneously dancing for my para pujo. The fun-filled days used to pass in rehearsals, arranging for costumes, planning make-up and stage decor. The day of performance used to be the most hectic. I remember on one hand I used to dress up the kids while arranging my saree’s pleat with the other hand. This was also the time when I started taking part in Visarjan (idol immersion). We used to dance like crazy in those processions.

Things changed when I got a job. Then I started utilizing my Puja leave to go on a vacation or spend the time at a friend’s or cousin’s place indulging in good food, drinks, and quintessential Bong adda. When I became a probashi bangali (non-immigrant Bengali) puja became different. This was the time when I started longing for Kolkata puja. When I lived in Hyderabad puja used to be like a regular day with the occasional visit to the Keyes puja.

Nowadays, Puja has become more hectic. This year Mumbai was sweltering at 40 degrees during puja. Imagine wearing a heavy saree and gulping hot khichudi in 40 degrees. Irrespective of the heat, working day and mad traffic we managed to visit quite a few pandals.

Now the madness is over and I am back to my routine, however, I miss the chicken roll and mutton biryani. Yes, we Bengalis unapologetically eat non-vegetarian food during Durga puja and do not keep any fast. If you enter a Durga Puja pandal be rest assured to be greeted by the aroma of chicken-roll and not agarbatti. We love our chicken rolls, mutton biryani, fish cutlet, prawn pakora, egg devil, moghlai parotha with minced meat and our Goddess approves that. Period.

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Linking this post to #MondayMusings hosted by dear Corinne.

The Pets that Adopted us

Most people adopt pets but I have been always adopted by pets. They just land up in front of me and never let me leave. They stick to me stubbornly.

When we lived in Gangtok, we had a street dog called Julie. It was an extremely fluffy and cute dog. One day it took shelter in our balcony and stayed there till its last breath.  After we shifted to Kolkata, my mom found a newborn kitten during her morning walk. The kitten was extremely sick. Mom took care of it for a week but couldn’t save it. We had named it Felu.

Few months after my mom’s death I found a pregnant dog lying in my backyard. The dog looked extremely weak and feeble. I tried to give it water and food but the dog was in no position to eat or drink.

Next morning, I woke up to the noise of squeaks. When I came out of the house I found a litter of four puppies. The mother was nowhere to be seen and the hungry newborns were shivering in cold and squeaking. I looked around but couldn’t find the mother. Left without any choice I picked up those puppies and a wonderful journey began.

We named those puppies Kalu, Bheju, Lali, and Pinki. I became the de facto mother to those puppies. Sleepless nights began, the house used to be full of puppy poo and I was frantically trying to feed them, clean them and most importantly put them to sleep. My father was initially reluctant about keeping those puppies inside the house, but gradually he accepted them. Those puppies were naughty and used to keep me on my toes all the time.  Their best game was to wake me up in the middle of the night and force me to take them for a walk. I remember taking four puppies for a walk in the middle of the night. Our building watchman was kind enough to accompany me. While I used to walk like a zombie my puppies used to jump and roll.

There was a monastery near our house and one of the monks adopted Bheju. Lali was adopted by a neighbour. Unfortunately, we lost Pinki to diarrhea. We tried so hard to save her. The day she died Dad and me were unable to eat the whole day. Now, we were left with Kalu.

Kalu was not only our dog. He was loved by everyone. I have written in one of my earlier posts about the bonding Kalu shared with Gupto Kaku. Kalu was a timid dog and the day Potla Buro entered my bedroom poor Kalu was scared more than me. Kalu stayed with us for eight years and was nothing less than family.

My husband is strictly against having a pet, however, a cat has found its way to our home. We tried a lot to shoo it away but it loves to occupy the bed and sleep on it like a princess. Here’s presenting to you Princess Spotty. Look at her style isn’t she royalty?

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How Staying Away from Social Media Helped- GratitudeList of September

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I went through a psychological low phase from June through August. In fact, August was the worst. My regular readers must have noticed that my posts were reflecting deep dark thoughts. Those who have ever suffered from obsessive-compulsive thoughts would know how difficult life gets when you are unable to control your own thoughts. I was trying hard to come out of the deep dark tunnel of negativity but spiraling back to it.

However, at the beginning of September, I made a promise to myself that I would try to be happy. The first thing that I did was eliminated all the triggers that were causing me discomfort. As I wrote in my previous post I eliminated all the people and other factors that were making me restless. I realized that social media was a huge trigger thus I uninstalled all social media apps from my mobile. I think this was the best thing that I did for myself in a very long time.

No Social Media: Staying away from social media gave me more time to do a lot of productive things. Few of the things that I did are as follows.

#20DayChallenge: To motivate myself I took up a self-designed 20-day challenge. I wrote 14 posts during the challenge and writing regularly obviously gave my blog’s traffic a boost.

Exercise and Yoga: In September, I made ‘myself’ a priority and started working on myself. In the months of depression, I had not taken care of myself and had put on weight. I started doing brisk walking along with yoga and already feeling quite light.

Redesigned my house:  I made a few small changes to my home. I bought a few new lamps and fairy lights and decorated the altar. I feel happy when my home looks good.

Italian: I am learning Italian. Learning a new language is always fun and exciting. I had earlier learned Spanish and always wanted to learn Italian. Soon, I wish to write a post in Italian. 

Finale of #20DayChallenge

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Today is the last day of my #20DayChallenge. In the challenge that I took up I had decided to do the following:

Post Daily
No Social Media usage from mobile
Call up people
No sugar (bonus resolution)
Exercise daily (bonus resolution)

Let me confess, I was not 100% successful, however, I was fairly successful. I couldn’t write 20posts in 20days but I did manage to write 14 posts in 20 days. Instead of looking at the glass empty if I look at it as half full then I did a remarkable job. Don’t you think so?

I deleted all social media apps from my mobile like Facebook, Twitter, Hangout, Instagram and Pinterest. I couldn’t delete Whatsapp but managed to restrict usage. As a result, I had more time to do productive things. The initial few days were difficult, as I was constantly trying to check messages and notifications but gradually it got settled. I replaced social media with two other apps. One was a language learning app and another a singing app. Let me share a good news in last 20days I cleared the first level of learning Italian through that app. I received an overachiever’s badge also. I felt proud of myself that instead of wasting my time on social media checking out ‘happy’ stories of others and feeling jealous or waiting indefinitely for people to respond on chats I used my time productively and learned a new language. I also sang a lot of songs using the singing app and my vocal chord got exercise after a long time. (Trust me, I am a good singer

The Last Laugh- Book Review

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Name of Book: The Last Laugh

Name of Author: Shardul Karve

Book Blurb: What happens when a harmless prank turns into a deadly game of lies, deceit, and betrayal?

Doug, a carefree man with his love for shenanigans challenges his friends and Monica, daughter of one of the most powerful man in the city, Richard Nolan, in a prank to scare her father.

According to the plan, Doug calls Richard Nolan to tell him that his daughter is kidnapped and then demands a ransom of 100 million dollars.

But… it turns into his and his friends’ worst nightmare when one of them is shot dead….

Time ticks away, more killings follow, new characters creep in, each having their own vendetta against Richard Nolan. What seems like an innocuous prank turns into a race to come out alive where everyone has their eyes set on the 100 million dollars!!

Know the Author: Shardul Pramod Karve, a 23-year-old writer, and a Chemical Engineer from Baroda. Completed his B.Tech from Nirma University (Ahmedabad). He started [image error]writing his novel ‘The Last Laugh’ in the 2nd year of his B.Tech finishing it after joining Reliance Industries Ltd where he is currently working. His hobbies include reading books & comics, watching and playing Cricket, Football, Tennis, Wrestling. He has a great fondness for traveling and is also trained in Vocal Singing. He also does audio recordings of his singing, voiceovers (mainly comic-book characters). Big fan of movies especially Suspense & Thriller movies.

Review: The Last Laugh is the debut novel of Shardul Karve. The book is a suspense thriller where everyone is trying to outsmart the other. If you have watched I Know What You Did Last Summer then you would easily relate to the turn of events in this suspense thriller. The story starts with Ned trying to take revenge on Richard Nolan a rich American, whose characteristics are similar to President Donald Trump. He is an unapologetic and ruthless man who acquired wealth through arrogance and manipulation. He is shown as a sex pest and a cruel employer. His employees are horrified of him, including his secretary Lizzie. Similar to Mr. Trump, Richard Nolan also has a third wife who is an ex-beauty queen. She is beautiful and much younger to Nolan. Her name is Michelle and she has a hard time with Nolan’s only daughter Monica.

Dough is in love with Monica and he decides to stage a kidnapping to express his love for Monica. He wanted to prove to Monica that her father was not the strongest man on Earth and he had the audacity to scare him. Monica accepts the challenge and agrees to join him. Their two other friends Yohan and Naomi also join them. Four of them plan a picnic to take Monica out of her palatial mansion. Initially, Nolan was not ready to let his daughter go without bodyguards but Michelle convinced him to let Monica go. The drama begins. The initial plan of kidnapping goes smoothly but gradually things get murkier. A contract killer enters the scene and murders start taking place. Numerous other characters enter the scene and a series of mystery unfold. This is a good attempt at a ‘whodunnit’.

As a debut novel, Shardul did a good job in creating interesting characters those who have shades of grey. Till the end, he is relatively capable of keeping his reader’s hooked to the storyline. As a thriller writer, it is very important to keep your reader’s hooked and he did a good job at that. He introduced characters seamlessly in the story and each character gave a new dimension to the thriller. Even though the story-line is predictable at times yet the author manages to give a fresh twist to the tale. The one thing that could have been better is proof-reading. In a few places, there are typographical mistakes that could have been avoided with better editing.