Matheran-ey Mathahoron

Mota: kotokhkhon lagbe bolechili mac, du ghonta? Du ghonta to bara ei toy train-ei boshe jhuk jhuk korchi

Mac: o baba, tumi ki boro hoe gecho naki? Chuti katate esecho. Just chill.

Mota: tahole to gorur gaari kore elei hoto, aaro chill hoto, jaihok, okhane chilled beer paioa jaabe toh, songe gorom gorom mach bhaja

Mac: mach???!!! Ei bara, aager thekei bolechilam je mach , mangsho be na, shudhu dim…

Mota: Ghorar dim. Tumi bolechile dimer dalna hobei, aar anurodher ashor boshle, chicken o baniye debe, ekhon bolcho navratan korma

Dadu: Korma, aha, koddin aminiyar chicken korma khai ni...

Mac: aar khabeo na...eibaar theke thepla, dhokla aar ...aaar, ei maiti, tui to eto khabar tabaar niye likhish, kichu gujrati khabarer naam bol na....oi khete hobe

Jini: na re gujrati thali amar bhishon bhalo laage. Amar ek client shedin khaoalo...offf...ekta urban youth product...healthy filler...

Maiti: Gujrati thali?

Jini: na na amaar client-er product-ta…red bull type-er kintu ektu onyo bhabe amra korbo…

Jhuk jhuk jhukjhuk…

Cut to matheran-er pahar, intercuts with mac-er mukhe hashi…halka background score…tomar barir samne diye ei rail line jedin jaabe…dadu-r mukheo ekta halka hashi…thought bubble-e amitabh parveen bhabi ke bolche…gujrati ma bole, tani prem kari chu…chu…chu… aur bangalimein…

Pechon theke: bangali naki?

Ekjon 50 chui chui bhoddorlok mac-er dike proshno.

Mac: han- maane hindir haan aar banglar hae-r majhamajhi

Stranger: kolkata theke?

Mac: barrackpore.

Maiti: dur baal, kothaye thakish jiggesh korche, origin noe.

Mota: tahole to ekhankar odhikangsho lok-ke shei silet, chattogram, bolte hoe

Chumki: aar kichu lok toh aaro door-e yangon, myanmar eishob bolte hoe

Stranger: amar naam subhash gupta

Maiti: ( mukh chepe)baba, leg spinner naki

Mac: subhash gupta, maane aapni aage jwt…maane contract…

Dadu: Uni subhash ghoshal mac, aar uni mara gechen

Mac: o sorry

Stranger: na , ami ekjon photgrapher. Gach-paala, pakhi, eishober chobi tuli

Rahul ( etokhkhon chup kore cigarette kahcchhilo, gola nichu kore...) salim ali...

Mac: ki ali?

Dadu: laila ali, aha, kintu shedin porlam meyeta naki gay...tao cholbe...

Maiti: ekta ghushi khele na, ei aamir khan-er moto mukh puro rang de basanti hoe jaabe

Mota: ta ekhane ki chobi tulte na chutite, na dutoi.

Stranger: na, maane ekhane amar ekta baari ache. Shekhanei majhe modhye ashi. Besh nirjon prokritir kol-e boshe kota din katano ei aar ki.

Dadu: ei nin, ektu vodka cholbe naki

The starnger gladly accepts the thermocol cup from dadu

Jini: oh, great, eikhane ekta baari hole ja bhalo hoto na, nothing like it

Chumki: babu, edik odik bari kena baaje idea, cholo erokom kono ekta jaygaye bari kini

Mota: na na , maintenance-er onek jhamela…tar cheye hotel-I bhalo

Stranger: na, maintenance ta ekta problem bot-e kintu hotel-er songe barir tulono chole na, specially ei jayagye. Amar barita besh spacious, araam se dosh baro jon thaka jaaye

Mac: apnar barita kon dike. Amra woodlands-e..

Mota: amra woodlands bole ekta hotel-e thakbo bhabchilam, booking tooking nei, jani na ekhon giye kichu booking pabo kina...

Mac: duple...

Mota: ha, double bed peleo sekhane teen jon hoe jaabe...

Maiti: ekta michke hashi heshe- ha ha kichu ekta manage hoe jaabe...

Stranger: booking jokhon nei tokhon abbar woodlands jaben keno, amar baritei roe jaan, amader du tolaye 4 te bed room ache, tobe bathroom khali duto. Oi charte ghor-e apander 8 jon-er khub bhaloi hoe jaabe. Nicher aaro 4 te ghor.

Mota: baba 8 roomer. Thake ke sekhane

Stranger: emnite ekta marathi buro chakor ache. Tobe christmas-er din amar bhaiji aar tar teen bandhobi ekhane esheche chuti katate. Ei Pune-tei ora MBA pore…

Train-er whistle KUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUKUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU

Dadu: whsiteles to the tune of mere sapnon ki raani kab aayegi toh

Mac ekta boka hashi motar dike, je tomar miss hoe gelo guru

Maiti dubaar pant ta tene nilo

Rahul khub serious mukhe dhoya charte laglo

Jini r chumki-r mukhe ekta guys will be guys hashi…

Mac: coolie nibi naki

Mota: eta fokot-e beriye gele coolie ke bolbo kaandhe kore bombay niye fero…

Stranger: Ashun edike, ei minute paanchek hata poth…

Kromosho…

Ei golper mor kon dike ghurbe? Ei subhash Gupto-i ba kirokom lok, bhalo bangali photogrpaher na Abu salem-er songi. Dadur sapno ki raani ki ekhanei khuje paabe. Sekhane ki dadu-i man of the match hobe na maiti ba mac khel ghorabe. Barita bhuter baari noeto? Jaante hole likhun. Chot kore likhun...

Shundi Kaapche!

Shundi-te aloron! Shundi-r notun-tomo songjojon. INSPECTOR HOJO Ekhane tuke dilaam tar first posting

POJECT-SAVE THE 'MAC'
Hello hello 1, 2, 3, 4 mike testing. Bondhugon gola khobor aache. Dukhkher obossho. Amader Mac babur ghor bipod. Actually tri-pod, maney teen dick theke. Jhamela teen mohila. Mac er obostha ekhon onekta Indian peninsular moto. Je kono shomudro theke jokhon tokhon tsunami aaste pare.
Pothome (resist kora gelo na) boli Bay of Bengal er kotha. Bipasha Khanki Bardhan. Ei o bhodro mohila holo Mac jei Glare Advertising er hoye khep er kaaj kore, taar maalkin. Ekta nongra, uncouth, unsophisticated, harami, Mac er thekeo beshi paka ekta maagi. Kaaj kommo thik aache, problem (ebar kintu bhai daate daat chepe resist korechi) holo Mac er salary er date parar kichu dustu meyeder period er moto protyek maashe du- char din kore pichiye jachche. Tao abar instalment e cheque haate jao paay shetao motamoti gota shaare teen baar bounce korte korte or account e joma pore. Majhe aache prochur raag, obhiman, gosha aar Mac er kichu aalto humki. Tobe bank er shonge kotha bole goto noy maash dhore Mac oi mohilar opor cheque bounce er ekta mamla korbe bhabche.
Ebar ashi Indian Ocean er kothay. She abar maash gele mainey kora.Mac er maashi. Or kaaj er Bai. She Mac babu ke pochondo (please etai last baar) chaap er modhdhye rekheche. Jokhon tokhon or kache boro boro onker taka demand korche. Taar cheler piles hoyeche - paachsho, gudi parwa te she deshe jaabe - hajaar, abar she notun chawl e flat book koreche taar jonno chai paach hajaar taka. Macbhool is pareshan. Or ek sardar bondhu aashe, taar thekeo she hajaar taka geriyeche. Ei bai der crisis er bajaar e Mac ekhon ekebare nilkontho. Shesh shona geche ei Bai Mac er shonge tar mejo meyer biye dite kinchit utshaho dekhanoy bechara ekhon Nalasopara ba Virar er dike shift korar kotha bhabche.
Ebaar baachlo Arobbo Mohashagor. No surprises here. The very ovious Goaenchi kudi from the capial - Nava Whatever Shetty. Uro khobor aache Macport e abar onek din pore ei urojahaj land korbe korbe korche. Maajhe monomalinno howate onek din airport er shutter down chhilo. Tai ekhon Goregaon er hangar ghosha majar kaaj cholche jor kodome tar bai er absence ke ograjjo kore. Fridge theke onek pocha jinish er modhdhye theke ek bati arai maash purono alu fulkopir torkari o beriyeche. Shetar rong amader Kalubaba keo maat kore diyeche.
Uro jahaj er driver Mac nije. Tai goto bochor er helmet futo episode er por (jar fole Mac baba hote chole chhilo) ebar she landing gear niye bishesh chintito. Maal ta thik thak safely land korbe tow? Kodin aage Bombay airport e Sahara er ekta flight land korte giye jemon runway foshke kaada te aatke giye chhilo, temon kichu hole taader sahara debe ke? Laganor por je pill ta khete hoy shetar naam tow Miss Delhi eto din por kichutei mone korte paarche na. Tai Mac nije jaake taake phone kore goto bar er moto aakare ingite pill tar naam jiggesh korar chesta kore. Finally ami, yours truly, Inspector Hojo amar reliable khabri laagiye oke (with opshan) pills er naamgulo (bokachodara, bhebe chhile ami 'naamguli' likhbo?) jogar kore di along with procedure to have it. Kintu villain hoye dariyeche Mac er 28 KB memory. She kichutei pill ta kokhon khete hobe mone raakhte parche na. Tai confused hoye ek din por por Kaun Banega Karorpatir 'phone a friend' er moto amake chaar te option diye 30 second er modhdhye uttor chaiche. PILL ta ki -
(a) laganor 72 ghonta aage khabe?
(b) laganor 72 ghonta pore khabe?
(c) laganor aage 72 ghontar modhdhye khabe?
(d) laganor pore 72 ghontar modhdhye khabe?

Goto raate obossho Mac amake ekta notun proshno koreche - "pill ta Nava khabe na ami khabo???"

Changing the World...One Frame at a Time

Once in a while you meet someone or hear about something that somehow makes you feel that at times you can forget the mundane and rise up to something greater.

It happened to me last Wednesday. I met Chiranjeeb and Sunetro. With the regulation Santiniketan jhola, they did look like your regulation coffee-house character. But what they do and preach are anything but regulation.

Chiranjeeb and Sunetro are cine-evangelists, if there is such a term. They run Drishya, a student film study circle set up by a few post-graduates from Calcutta and Jadhavpur University.

Using a hired projector and a clutch of classic VCDs and DVDs, Drishya travels to villages to hold screenings. Yes, rural audiences in West Bengal are congregating in villages to watch world cinema classics unspool before their eyes. Right from Sergei Eisenstein’s Battleship Potemkin, Charles Chaplin’s Great Dictator to Vitorrio De Sica’s Bicycle Thief.

And with each screening, this band of young men and women are shrinking the distance between film-rich Calcutta and the cinema-starved villages of North 24 Parganas, Nadia and Birbhum in interior Bengal. And what's more, they are taking their cine-gospel to the rest of India. Karnataka, Uttaranchal, Gujarat and even cynical, snobbish, cinephiles in Bombay are queueing up for Drishya screenings.

Chiranjeeb says, "Research conducted by our friends showed how electronic media was challenging folk forms. Villagers were abandoning rich folk forms and travelling 12-14 km to see the latest Hindi movies, or hiring VCDs."" To combat crass commercial cinema and offer them more aesthetic choices, Drishya brought along films that were different from Bollywood’s balle-balle wedding galas and divorced-from-reality designer dreams. The group offered organic cinema made by Ray, Ghatak and Godard, whose evocative lyricisms didn’t need sexily picturised songs, heroines in chiffon saris or crude ‘item songs’.

The group began with Ray’s Goopy Gyne Bagha Byne, knowing that people would relate to the spoken Bengali. A Bengali cult classic, Goopy, is a fairy tale where the lead pair have the power to conjure food out of thin air. During one evocative scene where Goopy and Bagha shout out for rasogullas, gulab jamuns and puris, "a collective sigh" went through the crowd, recalls Sunetro. "No one missed the theme of starvation, and the fact that soldiers were willing to put down weapons and eat rather than wage wars," adds Chiranjeeb.

Next up was Italian neo-realism, which hit our national theatres in 1953 with Bimal Roy’s Do Bigha Zameen that told a heart-rending story of debt and then loss of two acres of land through Shambhu, a rickshaw puller, played by Balraj Sahni. Made six years earlier, De Sica’s Bicycle Thieves was thematically similar and Drishya believed audiences would relate to it since rural societies are not yet automobilised. And they did. But not quite how Drishya imagined. While the language (Italian) was no barrier while connecting to the bicycle-theft, a father-son relationship and post-war desperation, most of the audience left after the screening, leaving the Drishya’s team despondent. But ten minutes, they returned, refreshed after tea to ask, "when is the next show?" "That was our first taste of visual victory," says Chiranjeeb.

'Visual victory'. Now that's an expression that we (the handfull in this thingy called the comunication business) toil tooth and nail for every day. Sunetro and Chiranjeeb and the brave men and women at Drishya have proven (albeit with a little help from Ray, Kurosawa, De Sica and a few others!) that visuals, universal emotions have nothing to qworry from the barriers of language!

As a true believer in the power of cinema, I sincerely subscribe to the notion that people like Sunetro and Chiranjeeb are revolutionaries. Revolutionaries aspire to change 'their' world. The word 'their' is important as it means a certain immediate hinterland, as opposed to an utopian Neverland. And their instrument of change is good cinema. More power to them.

Drishya is a non-profit organisation is looking for all the help they need, monetary and otherwise. To get in touch with them, email drishya_films@yahoo.com.

The Magic of Distance

As I see, I think it's a good thing not to talk to our friends, near and far, once in a while. Gives us something to look forward to and a lot of things to catch up on. It's been months since to yakked about something inconsequential and the anticipation of the forthcoming just gives me the tingles.

Which brings us to a rather compelling thought. Do we sometimes get too close to each other? In the last couple of weeks I have realized that we all need our space. And we deserve it individually and collectively.

We sometimes impose our collective will on individuals. I do that too. I did that. In an extrapolated world, we call it 'concensus terrorism', but that's another posting. Let us live our own lives and as well as our collective existences together.

I look forward to my friends.

ps: is it true that we are going to matheran?

The Pujo We Miss

Pujo came and went. And if you really look at it closely, I felt that it was just a remembrance of a thing past. I don't know if that is a good or a bad thing.

I missed Pujo because I missed my days in Calcutta. The anticipation, the addas, the planned outings, the unplanned outings, the food, the booze sessions... Most of all the anticipation.

The anticipation of good times imminent. The anticipation that those four days (okay five) are ours and not someone else's and there could be no bargaining about that. The gentle intoxication of being able to irresponsible without accounting for it.

These days we are responsible, practical, realistic too perhaps. So we think visiting Kolkata (not Calcutta) during the Pujas is a bum deal if you look at it. I mean the crowds, the nihilistic madness, the...you know what I mean.

So we still enjoy the Anticipation, but most importantly, we hardly miss the end of Pujas. Yes, my friends. That's what's different now. I hardly miss the passing of the Pujas. I don't get sad anymore that Puja is over. No more picking up the pieces of life and starting the wait for another 360 days. So it's like "Hey, I missed the Pujas, but can you pass the salt, please?"

And that’s it. We don’t miss the Pujo. We just miss our past. Why? Ask yourself. The answers may scare you.

It's that time of the year...

Come October and the posto-induced sentimental pangs of expatriate Bongs rise up like bile through the much-abused digestive systems and find expression. It's autumn once again and the ones unlucky enough to have not managed an annual 'veykeyshan" time laments about those times past.

Puja in Kolkata! Oh those first trucks that rumble in at night to every para carrying bamboo. The first signs in the immediate horizons of those superstructures. The maddening crowds at New Market, Gariahat and now Forum, Westside and the South Calcutta Bong's new-found obsession Pantaloons. The sunshine that's suddenly gentler, the clouds that are just there for the shade, not the rains. The unexpected holiday of the (now an) annual pre-Pujo strike that quietly reminds the Bong of the the atheistic meanderings of an otherwise power-worshipping race. The holiday calculations, the weekend additions that can transform a four day festival into a week-long fiesta and with some divine luck into a ten-day break. Oh how I long for Pujo in Kolkata.

My first sign of Pujo usually meant, my Mom embarked on a massive cleaning-up of the house and that meant the crockery, the curtains, the closets and all and everything in between. So I had to empty that bookshelf and do my bit of cleaning-up.

And then Shoshti! The lights will go on, the shanai will start playing at 9. But you have to go to work. Till I started working, the fun started started even before that. But once I had a visiting card, it meant that we meet first on Shoshti evening - after work. Usually at a friend's place. To chat, drink, eat, make plans, break plans, call up friends who have been too busy to meet round the year, include people who must join us, exclude people who should not, look up exotic eating places to try out. Of course, Tangra remains a constant and the Ffort is a recent addition. Oh yes, one very important thing...who picks up the booze for Ashtami and onwards.

And the fun was do the same all over again on Saptami. This is the Puja, right? You are not supposed to make plans to follow them. Ashtami, however, was a plan you had to follow. Bhog...a completely religious part of the festival to be followed by a session of alcohol-catalyzed adda. And if you are upto it, may be we can go out for dinner.

Navami and the withdrawal symptoms gently nudges you. Just two days left. Make the best of it. Dashami. Nimki khirkodombo. The end.

Well, inspite of everything you might say, I still believe Puja ends too abruptly. It does, it does.

But we have memories and no one can take it away from us. Unless you wish to share it all at Shundi. So write you wretched Bongs who cannot go to Kolkata during Pujo. Write, 'coz that's all you can do.

The Story About Uran

Ok...I just called up the Admiral and here's the lowdown on Uran.

Every year the Admiral hosts a party on the 31st. It's a time when his old
freinds and relatives come down, so getting any one of the 6 rooms is out
out of the question. However, the Admiral sells invitations to the 31st
party. He says usually about 50-60 couples turn for the party which costs Rs
1000 per head. It includes snacks, drinks ("from champagne to cocoa/ovaltine
and everything in between") and breakfast on 1st morning. The bar is usually
open till 2-2.30 in the morning. Bookings for this party are easily
available. However, the Admiral insists that the party is a private affair
and he would like his 'guests' to behave, socialize and mingle. Otherwise he
reserves the right to evict the guests. After the party, the Admiral
arranges for some 'temporary sleeping arrangements under the shamiana".
Read: uncomfortable sleeping bags in the open. Not a good idea to bring in
the new year.

Well, it looks like a quaint South Mumbai party with an eccentric crowd.
Exotic, but most probably completely out-of-sync with our group. I can see
Dadu trying to grope some Parsi chick, Maity closing his eyes and trying to
sing Mirabai to the tune of 'Aung Lang Syne", Mac trying to find some
'pokito bondhu', Mota trying to convince the Admiral that he is a big 'bhul'
and cut to Uran harbour, 3 'o clock. The eight of us have been evicted from
Hotel Uran Plaza and we waiting for the first boat back to Mumbai, which
incidentally is at 8 'o clock. So what do you do till 8 'o clock. "Rahul
ekta bhul! Ekta bhul jayega book koreche!"

Guys! Let's look at alternatives, shall we?

What's happening about our Goa trip?

Dadu is supposed to check more hotel options.
Orko is supposed to check out the 'house' option.
I am supposed to check out hotels.

Goa 

Goa 

Goa in December

Let's move the Goa discussion to Shundi!

Shundi

Okay here's how it works.

If you want to start a fresh chain of conversation, click on the "Blog This" link on the Shundi home page. It's on the top panel. A new window appears and you can write whatever you want to.

Click "Publish" once you are through. The new posting will be visible once you click the "View Blog" button that comes right after your clicking the "Publish" button.

If you want to write something in context to an original posting, you can use the 'Comments' link.

Usually we end up opening all old comment postings to make a fresh posting.

Using "Blog This" is faster and easier.

Happy blogging Shundites.

Shundi

Shundi

Trying out a few other formats for postings on Shundi. Let's see if it works.

Shundi: April 2005

Well, this is the first posting of Shundi, the definitive blog for the Bong expatriate!

And since I am the host, I decide the topics that are taboo in these hallowed digi-portals. Well, it's a short list.
1. Vegetarianism

All else is aceptable.

To start off, let crack the ceremonial narkol with some food talk. Specifically Bong food talk.