Uncertainty

The opening scene of Roma where pools of soapy water made accumulation on the square tiles reflected a small little window through which the audience could view the sky above. One could see the railings of the house through those reflections and a plane flying up in the sky. The sound of soap water with the formation of bubbles helped imagination get the creative wings of illustrations that were therapeutic. Instantly the audience gets glued to the movie. Sometimes, nonverbal communication is felt to be stronger than verbal communication. Studies say 55% of the communication is through body language. In theatre, actors can sense each other even if they don’t directly look at each other. With the Pandemic of Coronavirus, we all challenged these sensing amongst ourselves. How does it feel to have a stranger sit right behind your chair on the other side of that coffee shop that you used to visit regularly? How the Cab driver in his body posture gives you a sense of security or jittery. How does your lover look at you making you uncomfortable out of seduction not yet touching your body but touching your soul? It was almost a week that India had been observing the lockdown. And people were sliding into the blanket known as depression. Though fear had united the country to obey the lockdown it couldn’t unite hearts living under the same roof. A friend cheekily asked, “what must be those people doing who has extramarital affairs”. This jest of his made me think and wonder. True that what happens to relations now that are not sealed and agreed by society. A junior of mine posted on Instagram “This lockdown is going to be difficult for marital rape victims, now that they are bound to live with each other for 21 days”. Some also made fun India is going to have a huge population hype after nine months. Essentially all of us were trying to deal with the uncertainty that had suddenly engulfed worldwide like the serpent from our fairy tale books. For the first time, people appreciated that they are alive consciously and voluntarily. Articles on economic slowdown and how to keep your mental health stable was pouring heavily in the stormed browsing history of the citizens. Among all this Sritoma was mopping her loft that had worn out square chips tiles in the shades of white, slate, and steel blue. She is back in her hometown due to this lockdown. She seldom enjoys Kolkata, but this time it’s a different feeling. There is a sense of togetherness in the city. There is fear but there is love. Families are trying their best not to fight and hold on to each other. People are realizing for the first time what it is to have a maidservant or a full belly meal. Moods are swinging like the pendulum but Sritoma somewhere in her little loft enjoyed her mopping like never before. She moved her mop almost like a paintbrush on a clean canvas. Wondering how comfortable days are without the car honks or the loud voices. Nature has a rhythm and cities seldom get to hear that melody. Maybe that rhythm, that mop, and the awkward silence encouraged her to cope up with the loud cries of uncertainty.

Pain

After a full day’s wait, she pinged him on WhatsApp. It’s very unlikely that she would initiate a ping. Call it her ego or her pride. But something about him compelled her to know his whereabouts. Not that he was the best catch available in the market. They had not even heard each other’s voice for more than 8 years. A dating site got them closer, almost luck by chance. Closer not in proximity but through the pool of emotions. They would tell each other stories. Stories of their life some good, some funny, some tragic, some ironic. However, these stories are what made them who they are today. A thought would trickle to her why did she like him other than the fact that she always liked his company even when they chatted through a frivolous chatroom. Even now both of them had many options in the market to get associated with. He was a rich person with a good body. She was poor with an unhealthy body. He liked to love life that could be controlled, she liked to live a life that ran on faith. But what pulsated between them was the pain. She could resonate with him. He had that pain very fresh in his heart that she is carrying for years together. That pain that makes you lose hope in life, that pain that makes you let go trust forever into an unknown space where it fades like the stars of a cloudy night. You can see that trust playing hide and seek from behind the clouds of thoughts.

… maybe I will continue it on some other day. For now my reader I have only this much to offer.

Distich

Distich - A pair of verse lines goes back to their origin in early 16th century. They are fascinating as a lot can be said with very little, also they are challenging as a lot needed to be said in very few words. Below is my first attempt on a Distich.

 

Book Review: Pride and Prejudice

Book: Pride and Prejudice

Author: Jane Austen. Publisher: Thomas Egerton, Whitehall

Pages: 252. Price: 397

Pride and Prejudice can be safely called Jane Austen’s most charming novel. Set in the late eighteenth century and early nineteenth century the novel fascinates readers till date and is often seen in the list of “most loved books”.

It is a work of fiction which has a certain resemblance to Austen’s life. The key women characters are seen struggling with a certain amount of poverty that Austen had to deal in her own life. The bonding between two elder sisters Jane and Elizabeth has been depicted as strong which stands true for Jane and her sister Cassandra.
The book starts with Mr. Bennet who is living with his wife and five daughters: the beautiful Jane, the clever Elizabeth, the bookish Mary, the immature Kitty and the wild Lydia in Hertfordshire.

There is a constant worry Mrs. Bennet portrays to get her daughters married to rich men. Through an invitation to a ball, the family gets introduced to wealthy and cheerful Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy who is twice as affluent than Bingley but aloof in nature. Through a series of incidents, the story weaves into a conflict between Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth where she speaks of him as “I could easily forgive his pride if he had not mortified mine”

The book gives into the fact that goodness and truth prevails. After a series of emotional involvements, the story surrenders to the love Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth felt for each other where the former overcomes his pride and the later overcomes her prejudice.
The book gives certain quotes that can be taken as life lessons like when Caroline Bingley says “I declare after all there is no enjoyment like reading!”
Throughout the book, we come across clashes between different social strata, genders, desires that are nurtured yet resulted in consensus. Like most love stories we reach to a definite ending which as a reader gives us peace, however, if the author had chosen not to give a definite ending to the story it could have catered to a different aspect. What if Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth did not agree to marry it would have been interesting to see how Austen would have dealt with that.

Notun Boudi

 That morning was a sunny one. After weeks and months of rains Kolkata saw the first day of sunlight which agreed to stay from dawn to dusk. The lane in the north Kolkata had few taxis parked on either side of the road. Private cars started to park in the spaces in between just to accommodate few hours till the owners finished paying their visit at “Bhaban” Few hand-pulled rickshaws strolled from one end of the lane to the other, aimlessly, not knowing which will be their next destination.

The “shamiana” had white cloth wrapped all around with decorative plastic flowers in the entrance of 3 feet by 7 feet makeshift gate. Basu’s had to cover a bit of the footpath and the adjacent lane to make it a suitable place for visitors to sit. Some ceiling fans were mounted for that day. Only by evening they would finish their work of circling around and get stalled in the decorator companies cycle van.

As you enter the gate you would see the years old “Sodor Dorja” that stood by witnessing birth death and weddings of the house. Time has passed but the “choukath” knows how was it when “Notun Boudi” came into this house and how was it when “Dadabhai” left the house for the last time to get burnt into ashes and rest in the laps of Ganga.

“Uthon” had guests seated on green plastics chairs and white “Bel Ful” hanged in forms of wreath and garlands everywhere across the decorator company’s white cloth.

Inside the first room sat Notun Boudi infront of Dadabhai’s picture among a traffic of Brass Utensils, Bhagvad Gita, Clothes, Flowers, Food, Bhaja Mishti, Tele Bhaja and the old priest who have come here more than dozens of times to do the last rituals for various members of the family. Dadabhai glowed from his newly framed photo and Notun Boudi sat there in a pastel color saree with no makeup and sadness that her gut could feel too. She still wore her gold bangles, her thick long artistic chain because she knew this is the last time she is dressing up for Dadabhai.

Co-sisters, friends, uncles, aunt, cousins, brother in laws all are busy, everyone is doing something, footsteps climbing the staircases, rushing with trays of savories, merely brushing through people and more people, guests are being attended, tea coffee is being served, meal packets are being counted and Notun Boudi sat quietly infront of Ponditmoshai doing exactly what she is being told. Her face has aged suddenly only skin covers the cheek bones, the smile is lost, the heart is mourning, the loss is ultimate, though she knows death is only about leaving the body and its only life life and life still she can not see the body, can not touch him, can not hear him, can not love him, can not care for him. Ponditmoshai asks her to repeat after him “Pati Bhrahma, Pati Bishnu....” She keep her hands pressed together, palms touching and fingers pointing upwards, thumbs close to her heart, drooping eyes, eyebrows down, gulping lumps of tears as if they are blocks of stones. Her life had meaning only because Dadabhai was there. When he was working in the manufacturing plant she would get up early morning at 4 o' clock so that he could eat his breakfast and reach on time for early morning 7 o' clock shifts. When he retired from work the son was still in school. She was his pillar to guide through financial ups and downs. In the last days of his life she even removed the lock of the bathroom so that incase he falls down on the floor while showering she would be able to rescue him soon. She was everything for him, his friend, his wife, his caretaker, his philosopher, his opponent for trivial fights and for her he was the world.

The son has got married, lives in United States of Opportunity. He left him as a proud father, a good human being and he left him with a void. A void that no one can fulfil. He is unhappy but he is young, his body is in a position to absorb the pain, he is trying to cope up with the loss and also attend the guests. His heart is numb, it doesn’t agree to the death. He has questions for God, why did he do this to his father. He is angry at the doctors why didn’t they take the correct decisions but when he looks at Notun Boudi his mother, the only thin he feels is helplessness. 10 more days and he has to leave her behind and travel across to the other part of the world which denies him to have the same day or night time with her. He is constantly thinking what should he do so that Notun Boudi feels comfortable.

Guests and more guests are pouring in. Some are meeting each other after ages, so from the melancholy of the death conversations moves to small talks sitting in a circle on the green plastic chairs of the decorator’s company. They are obviously here for the funeral but till they face Notun Boudi sense of sadness do not creep in, call it hypocrisy or normality, upto you. Young boys of the house are all working hard to attend every guests with their food packets, tea, coffee and mishti. Old uncles think in their mind may be I am the next one to leave this world and may be my funeral will be such. More pictures of DadaBhai are being brought on a thermocol board to hang in the entrance. Pictures covered his life in a glimpse starting with a passport size black and white photo when he was a teenage boy, their sidur dan moment from his marriage, his son's birth, celebrating his son's class 12 graduation, their 25^th year marriage anniversary, their son's marriage bringing in the daughter in law for the family and the house and more moments with relatives, friends on various occasions, travels and get togethers. His life has been captured in one board and it showed all the smiles. But the pains, the cries, the tough times all of that Notun Boudi has seen and no one else. She has felt it with him. She kept him strong, she comforted him.

2 hours more or 2 days more, most of the guests will go back home, the son will go back to the land of opportunities and Notun Boudi will still be Notun Boudi of Bhaban house.