Lokkhi Puja in our house.
               
                  লক্ষ্মী পূজা ,আমাদের বাড়িতে।

I am just a cook here. My work is mainly in the kitchen,cooking khichari ,begun bhaja,potol bhaja,bhandhapir torkari ,labra,chatni ,of course not alone,my sister-in-law is there with me.
And in the little puja ghor the others work all day in the preparation of the puja,a massive affair,until the purohit appears.
         Some pictures from our home.

               
         

Relationship

A few days back was reading an article.
It was about a girl and her so called happy marriage . At least that is what she wanted to show the world through her fb profile. Her happy pictures ,happy quotes said it all. Unless one day the news of her murder broke the myth. It was her loving husband,who confessed of murdering her along with her two baby girls. Pathetic,isn't it.

It raised the question ,then why this false pretension? Psychologists have come to the solution that it may be her last attempt to save a nearly broken marriage or to conceal her unhappy life from the world.

This made me remember a friend of mine. We grew up in the same locality but went to different schools. But same college and university. She was a good student,good person even,with depth in thought but we sometimes had problems together. But glad that we are stuck together even now .

Let's assume her name is Tina. So Tina was a good singer too. A good boy fell in love with her in the univ days. But it did not last long. A little misunderstanding, and it ended. She did not take long to move on ,fall in love again and married.

But did she really move on? I think no. Every time we conversed over the phone the name of the boy would surface. She confessed of missing him and his fine tastes. She went to a wedding just to have a glimpse of him though she was neglected and insulted. During the initial days of fb she wanted me to befriend him and give her his details. But when I asked her to stay away from a seemingly happily married man ,she was angry.

She started posting pics of her bungalow ( company given though),her car( that too),her loving images of her "hubby" (the word I dislike the most). I silently laughed and liked and appreciated in my remarks. I knew the reason. But prayed a little too. Remembered a friend's word. The boy said after she left her,"Just see,she will never be happy."

I pray for the happiness of them both.

Everyone in this life deserves to be happy.

We have just one life to live. And happiness matters.

A Strong Desire.

I am having a strong desire these days. The desire of leaving this virtual world.

Remember , was drawn into it four years ago, when my husband was transferred to this place, they call the hard station. Far from my hometown and known ones. A relative, a close one, said, come to fb, we will share pictures, messages, you won't feel alone. Son created the account. Said , ma, you won't feel lonely again. Fun it was at the beginning, connecting to old friends. But it started fading, when I learnt that they have marched forward in their life and I have become stagnant. Jealously? May be, human afterall.

Then it was the whatsapp the next year when I had an android of my own. Previously it was only the desktop I was using and the land line, the small mob for emergency. Again it was fun with school groups, univ groups, different videos, jokes, chatting, refreshing.

Then happened the mistake perhaps. The twitter. One year into it and its an addiction I admit. Though diff articles, news from diff parts of the world , travel pictures, diff types of people are fun but at the same time exhausting. I , the very private myself, is lost somewhere. Losing the concentration which I was getting back after years , story books are left unread. I am disturbed all the time, an inner conflict , tension, dislike, disgust. Don't ask why? There are diff reasons.

One can be, they say you can speak freely here, but actually you cannot. And if you do, you are invited with abuses. Another can be, have a feeling everyone here is very well educated and highly placed but talking about problems of deprived . Do you really know or feel their probs? Another is cheating, yes , cheating. Another , advertisement of your skills. A good oppertunity but I have none.

Well, have to admit , my this writing down my feelings is something I learnt here. Thanks for that at least.

Want to leave everything. Want a SM detoxication. But how? A strong determination? Had once. That too left me it seems.

A strong desire I am having to go back to my peaceful world, when I laughed and cried with my books.

I will for sure, one day, very soon.

The World Cup and Me.

As the World Cup Football 2018 is coming to an end I have a wish to write a few words.

Started watching WC from a very young age, after father brought the TV,  the 1st black and white one. Before that my knowledge of football was limited to the radio commentary and our Mohon Bagan and East Bengal . The supporters of the former were the ghoti ones, who actually belong to the West of undivided Bengal , and the supporter of the latter were mostly the bangal ones, like us, who came from Bangladesh during partition. There were many a funny stories about the rivalry between the supporters of these 2 teams. Films were even made. My grandfather came from Bangladesh , so automatically all family members were EB supporters only me MG. Why? Always different from the others.

In my 1st WC I became a supporter of France. Why? The handsome Michel Platini. My father was surprised. How it is you are even supporting an European team? He said. He was always Brazil or Argentina, like all other bengalis. But I was always a revolutionary, sometimes to a rediculous level though. France lost, Platini was over for me.

Father was so fond of Maradona even. But I could never like him. Why? Looks? May be a little. But his over reactions pissed me off. The year Argentina won the WC I was supporting Germany. If I remember correctly, they were the opponents. Could never really forget or forgive his "hands of god". This is the reason I don't really like  Ronaldo or Neymar of today, in spite of the fact they are excellent in this.

My today's hero is Messi and only Messi. For the last few years its only Messi. I have warmed up to Argentina or Brazil like my father. Can no longer support and England or Germany or France. But its only Argentina first Brazil second for me.

The sober and good looking Messi is always impressive. No drama attitude. Family man, loved by all. It pains to see him lose. Seen 4 years back, seen this time. But will wait another 4 years to see him return to show his magic.

But that doesn't mean I have quit this WC. Watching it with full josh. Waiting for some good football in the semifinals and the finals. No tension as I have no favourites. Only some good football and excitement of the game.

My Fears.

                                                           MY  FEARS

Just yesterday I was reading an article, Irrfan Khan's interview.  His pain and how he faces it , a beautiful one. Poetic I must say. I have fears too but may be not that artistic .

I have a family history of cancer. From my father's side I have a very big family. Nearly 14 uncle and aunt. Amazing, isn't it! Old days you see. I don't remember my eldest aunt but have heard of her so much, even today, after so many years, she is fresh in the memories of others. She died of cancer when I was very small. Had it in her uterus, they say it was because of her multiple abortions. The pain she went through, how nothing remained of her body except bones , I often heard.

Then there was that cousin of mine.  She was only 15. Died of blood cancer. I remember how she often had from fever, how she bleed to death.

Then there that aunt of mine, how often we used to go to her house. Was a strong believer in God and God's blessings. Nothing helped. Had breast cancer. Got it operated. Saw her on her dying days, no hair, thin and bended, always with the saline bottle. Could not bear it for long. 

There were many more surrounding me, whose pain and death I have seen. There was that 11 years old boy, my neighbour, my brother's friend, the very lively Papu, whose death I have seen. Then there was that senior in my school.  All dying of blood cancer. I come from a place, once which was very polluted and many died of blood cancer, they say, because of this.

Often I feared of having this killer myself. They say its genetic too. Mainly I feared breast cancer. If I had to operate, how bad I would look or would the man want me after that too or neglect me or would want me to die, I often thought. Also the cost of the treatment. Its massive,leaves a family nearly pauper. And the pain, its unbearable. Should I treat myself or should I leave the world silently, should I bear the pain or ask them for a mercy killing. I asked myself this questions.

How foolish of me, what a loser I was, unless I read their stories, the fighters in life. They braved every pain and same I wish to do if ever hit by such unfortunate circumstances.

The Sky.

                      The Sky.

               The Beautiful Sky.
           With the white clouds floating.
          As if our puja is nearby.

             

              

   

             The beauty of the setting sun.
            The rainbow colours of the sky.

         

     
              The dark cloudy sky.
              The hope of rain. The hope of cooling the earth surface. The thirsty earth is waiting for the blessings from the heaven.
 

    

A short love story.

I have been travelling since childhood. And I have a lot of memories associated with travel mainly travelling by train. 

Today I want to share a recent sweet memory of mine. 

I travel to my hometown twice every year , once during the summer holidays and the other during the puja holidays. Just yesterday I have returned from such a short trip. It is nearly a 36 hours long train journey , though very tiring but I have got to know some fascinating people. 

There was this couple travelling with us. The man , nearly 65, I think, though you won't realise except for his white hairs, and his wife,60,as he said she had recently retired . But of them were professors. Though the man was Tamilian but not a word of Tamil he spoke. They were mostly conversing in english or hindi. Surprised me because since today I have never heard any Tamilian speaking hindi by his own.On asking the man replied he stayed and taught for nearly 29 years in Pune and knows nearly 10 Indian langs and he is going to learn even Bengali .

He said he is even thinking of settling in Bengal , his wife's place , bec of the greenery , the vegetables, the rain , disliking his own place for the heat and the dryness.

But my story is not about this. It is about the love they share even after so many years of marriage. He said it was a love marriage and they did never shy away from showing their love in public, holding hands, leaning over each other and having a short nap, the man reading whats app jokes to his wife and laughing heartily, the little warm conversations I could hear, how loving can a relationship be!

The man proudly showed me the pics of his sons, both well established and one with a beautiful bride.How sportingly the man accepted his son's announcement of his girlfriend!Asking his wife not to speculate the one among many fb friends of his. How like every other parents they too check their son's fb? I smiled as I listened. 

Did I forget to tell you that the man actually had a reservation  in a separate compartment but was not ready to leave his wife for a moment.

The man bid a bye at the end of the travel with a warm smile. Rarely we come across such friendly romantic person. Hope we could live and love life as he does.