Showing posts with label mom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mom. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

The Spark

Came across a wiki link that made me feel more than proud of the family i belong to!

I had grown up knowing that my mom's side of the family has a rich cultural and historical background. But to see the facts on a page, on the internet...that too on wikipedia...is quite overwhelming!

My Grandfather, Samir Roy Choudhury, born in the family of Subarna Roychoudhury, the Zamindar of Kolkata, prior to the arrival of the British, was one of the Founder fathers of the Hungry Generation.

About the Hungry Generation, my mom can tell you better stories as i came into the picture much later!!
I was born and spent the initial months of my life in my Grandparents' Patna residence. The environment was always culturally rich. And Post Modern Literature had been an integral part of my growing up years. Like they say, what we see and observe in our formative years...we learn. And these lessons become a part of our very self. It becomes a part of who we are.
So true.

From what i've gathered from the reviews i've got from my valued readers, the effect of these childhood lessons have been reflected in my writings over the years. I distinctly remember the article that i had submitted to the College Magazine...the Teacher Editor had classified it in the category of Post Modern Literature. Knowingly or unknowingly the subconscious works in a way that reflects the learning of our formative years.

Incidentally, my Grandfather carries a notebook and a pen with him...nearly always. His 78 years old self has retained the creative spark...infact the spark has brightened over the years.
On a recent visit to a hospital for a tumor surgery, he had a dream. In this dream he saw policemen chasing a thief. The day he returned home, he asked me for a pen and a piece of paper...any paper, he'd demanded. Urgency clear in his manner and voice. He then quickly jotted down his dream on the paper that i'd given him. Am sure that dream has already developed into a short story or a poem.

Distant memories of a tiny me sitting on a tray, in a Dark Room of our Photography Studio, and watching my maternal uncle work.... of paint brushes and colours lying around and experts editing photographs with them... 1990 didn't have Photoshop facilities!! ......somehow did leave an impression on me.

My first professional work to be published was on the cover page of my Grandfather's publication, a Little Magazine named "Haowa 49" .....infact my design was critically acclaimed. The thing is...i was 4 years old then.

The little that i know and all that i can know has its roots in my family.
I've always been a happy and content family member but today i feel more than proud of my family.

Somehow when others tell you about yourself...you get to know yourself better! :-)


Thursday, August 20, 2009

walking in the clouds...


                                       pics taken by me on the himachal trip

clouds have always fascinated me...so have mountains...
my favourite vacations are those that i've spent in hilly or mountainous regions. i prefer to call them the Kingdom of God!
my trip to Darjeeling, when i was 4yrs old...and the trip to himachal pradesh last July...are two trips that are very close to my heart...
of the Darjeeling trip i have very few memories...but the few memories that i have are very precious to me. it was on this very trip that i almost lost my life!!
maa, baba and i had been walking down a narrow rocky road from a shrine atop a mountain...the path was so narrow that three people could barely walk together side by side...on one side was the mountain...and on the other............well....almost nothing......
several feet below there was a tea garden....
the best thing about mountains is clouds...especially the low ones...the ones that float past you or even through you... and i've always...always had a fascination for them! i love walking in clouds....i love to feel the clouds surround me...i love to feel Nature overpower my senses...i love to loose myself in the clouds........
to me its pure bliss...
that day, while coming down that narrow path, i had spotted a wispy white cloud. possessed by the idea of following it, i ran down the slope...hands outstretched...
i could hear my parents asking me to slow down...to stop......but at that moment nothing else mattered...i just wanted the cloud...i wanted to feel it...
running...i finally caught up with it and felt myself being embraced by its softness....i was so happy...i'd never know such joy before...it was heavenly...
Suddenly i heard a scream....it was my mother calling out to me....and right at that moment the cloud dispersed...i realised i was standing on the edge....facing a stationary tourist bus...
i turned around to look...maa was saying something...but i couldnt hear a word....her voice was drowned by the sound of an engine...and the sound of tyres moving on rocky ground... as i stood there transfixed to the spot trying desperately to figure out my mother's gestures and soundless words...a big tourist bus zoomed past me...
it was then that i realised the situation in full...and the realisation shocked me....i had been so close to death...had i moved one step to either side i would have been killed...
i've never been this close to the End before...but this "End" marked a new beginning....it was the beginning of my affair with the clouds....
i still follow clouds....i still love walking in them...i still love to feel that bliss that i've not found anywhere else on the earth.........

Saturday, August 8, 2009

first steps first...


human beings have a tendency of being inspired... the source of inspiration may vary but the desire to be inspired is common to all....
the source from which i derive my inspiration is my school...Loreto Day School, Bowbazar....Kolkata-12...
situated right in the centre of the city...with College Street running alongside it...its the most beautiful place on earth for me...
the hustle bustle in the busy central streets...the hand-pulled rickshaws...uniformed students carrying heavy bags....the regular prayers at Firingi Kalibari...the metro...the book stores offering the widest range of books...and last but not the least...my favourite Coffee House....
6.30am...mom would make sure i was up and getting ready for school...7.20am...my grandma would open the main gate and keep watch...thanks to her i never missed my school-bus...not even once!! 7.45am...i'll be sitting beside my best friend...off to start a new day at school...

whatever i am today is all 'cause of my Alma mater...my school. I'm proud to bear "Loreto's flag in the sunny days of youth"..."high ideals of purity, of duty and of truth..." that my school gave me transformed me from a shy little girl to a confident young lady...ready to face the challenges of the world.
i was a totally different person upto class 6...extremely shy...timid...scared of everyone and everything...
but January 24th 2001 saw the biggest transformation in me! it was during the Investiture ceremony...when the school council members for that academic year took their oaths...i promised myself....i vowed to be a part of the council...and i promised to change myself...i promised to turn my dream into reality...!!
that shy girl....who used to hesitate before uttering a single word...became the most talkative person in school...so much so that teachers decided to appoint her class monitor...from class monitor to house vice captain...then house captain...then school captain...
i still remember the day i was selected council member from Red House(St. Teresa)...the best day of my life...and the days that followed were the most precious days ever!!
the last two years were no less eventful...it was during this time that i learnt what the real world was like...a small glimpse into the System structure made me realise the greatest flaws in our world...in our lives...it was during this time that i became disillusioned...disheartened...n disturbed...

but the friendship and love around me woke me up from my nightmares and brought me back into my world...and taught me to live again...

Monday, August 3, 2009

Samrajyobadi dhulo...

"Samrajyobadi Dhulo"...for those who cannot make sense out of the name, here is the english translation..."Imperialistic Dust"...
it so happened that today my mom was in a mood to clean a particular room in the house...a room which has been (for the past two years) a guest room reserved for their only daughter....that's me (no points for guessing)!! ever since dad gifted me my compaq laptop (on my 19th birthday) i've totally quit using the PC...as a result, a thick coat of dull grey dust has settled and expanded its Empire on the entire surface of the typing device...the keyboard. the monitor...specially monitored by me...is always kept squeaky clean. i try to keep my room as clean as possible...at least outwardly...lest my dear mother decides to clean it (or better still, rearrange it)...and cleaning, especially when done by mom...somehow always makes things go missing!!!!!
so when mom decided to clean my room i seriously freaked out...my diary...my newpaper cuttings...my......my......oh my!!
so, enter mom...with a brand new duster in hand...and a smile on her face......
..................
alas!...the smile was short-lived...
it was replaced by a grimace the moment she pulled out the keyboard from the computer table... "Samrajyobadi dhulo"...she exclaimed in anger!
that's how it all began...me following her around...trying to protect my belongings from the great Slayer of Dust fighting her way into the battlefield to dethrone the Emperor (His Highness... The Dust) and win back her Empire...
the saga of "Dhulor Samrajyopoton"...still continues...


to be continued........

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