Think over.....

A couple of days back, in a talent search programme on televison, one of the jury members, an eminent director of international repute, couldnt control his tears after watching a dance performance by physically handicapped children. One of the participants, a girl, hardly 8 yrs old, had no arms. It was apparent from her facial expressions that she was having difficulty in coordinating & maneuvering her body.........still she performed the whole act. Though she smiled outwardly, her eyes reflected the pain she was going through. What the juries felt, am sure, the viewers felt too. But our compassion is not their requirement. They just need their rights to equal participation in society. The society looses a lot if their contribution is rejected. One great example is Dr. D. Kent Cullers, Director of SETI R&D. He was born prematured, and to save his life he was immersed in pure oxygen, as a result of which, he lost his eyesight. If he was not given a chance, just imagine the immense loss the world of science would have suffered from.
The west has come up with 'freedom machines', new age technology that makes life easier for them. These technologies transform the lives of those who suffer from various disabilities and as a result are much less isolated from society. Its not that the state is always active in coming up with assistance. They, too, feel the heat of ostracism but much less than their indian counterparts. The handicapped too, have their dreams and aspirations and its the duty of the rest of the society to help fulfil them. Those of us, who are fortunate enough to have a sound mind and body, should come forward and do as little or as much as we can. In this context would like to mention one incident which I regard as nothing but a national shame. A chief minister of a state recently spent 2000 crores of public money in building parks with statues of herself, her party members and white elephants! Just imagine what vast development this money could have been used for. This is India! Should she be allowed to get away with this? Think over..........

Bringing the past forward...

Growing up in a joint family was fun, being the youngest in the generation was tough but being the only girl in the group, was the worst. I was always assigned the most menial tasks like holding the 'latai' (thread spinner) when kites were flown, bringing water when ordered to while others played carrom and so on. Being teased was a constant factor. But, I guess, I had to abide and tolerate as I wanted to be a part of the gang. There were also a few positives though. I was allowed to venture out and play holi with the local kids as I had the 'dadas' to look after me. During Durga Pujo I was allowed to go and sit in the local pandal for the same reason.
Life was much simpler for us than what the kids of today deal with. Peer pressure was unheard of. Studies were not a burden but a learning process. As television was unheard of in the early seventies, going to a movie after annual exams was a special treat! My first movie in a theatre was 'Goopy Gayen Bagha Bayen' . Going for picnics in the Maidan or Zoo in winters was a must. Quite different from the corporate picnics that todays children are used to. 'Luchi' and 'aloodum' with oranges and cakes baked at home made those yearly picnics unforgettable!
Durga Pujo was the best time of the year. Four days of freedom, pocket money and no studies! It was the only time of the year when we were given pocket money of our own. Elders too occupied with their 'addas' to keep any tab on us. Jethimas and kakimas hovering in the kitchen trying out new pujo special recipies. No one cared what we did or what we ate outside. The 'aacharwala', who was a strict no-no rest of the year, was a favourite destination those four days. Dashami evening was the worst, as it meant the end to all those romping and as we bade farewell to Maa Durga with tear filled eyes we prayed "Come soon next year Maa".
As the years passed, emotions faded. Its easier to watch a movie at home, picnics need not be organised as there are hired people to do so, playing holi is no more environment friendly. But I guess, Durga Pujo still occupies some space in our hearts, though Dashami does not mean tears any more.
The past was simple but the present is easier. I personally never felt the need to go back to the past, but, sometimes wish if the past could come forward and mingle with the present. Impossible......I guess.

Chotkamama's totka.

Chotkamama!!! as a child, he symbolised nothing but terror! But after a few decades that have passed since, Chotkamama's memories invokes only humorous pleasure. Every summer, we, along with mashimoni & mamamoni and their families took our annual mandatory trip to our mamabari in Jalpaiguri, till Dida was alive. Crossing the Ganges at Farakka in a steamer and boarding the train at Monikornika Ghat with the bulky holdalls and hefty trunks was excitingly troublesome.

Our mamabari was not restricted to dida's house only. As other relatives lived side by side, mamabari was one big community. Thatched tin roofed, partial wooden houses, courtyards in middle, aam bagan, lichu bagan here and there, made life much different and exciting from what we led rest of the year in our south kolkata existence.

Ranging from toddlers to grad students, our group was a diversified one. When the elders felt us uncontrollable, Maa or Mashimoni just had to scream........"CHOTKADAAAAA......" and there! Chotkamama was standing at the small window of his room with a daa (sickle) in his hand and in a thunderously cold voice would say...."Will behead all of you!!!" That was enough to freeze the whole gang for a few hours!

Chotkamama.... a bachelor, short, stocky, thinning grey hair, red eyes with an impish smile, owned a medicine shop. He had unique remedies for ailments. The 'bahe's, the local tribes who lived on the banks of the Teesta were his regular customers. The poor tribals who hardly had any money to pay the doctors' fees were offered free remedies by him. He, once suggested a tribal woman who complained that her son was suffering from worms, to apply gur(jaggery) at his anus. Chotkamama was sure that the worms, smelling the gur would come swarming out and the child would be dewormed easily without any medication.

He also suggested another tribal suffering from constipation, to bare himself and squat on the banks of the Teesta. Chotkamama was sure that the tickling green grass would relieve him of the constipation.

This was Chotkamama! ......long gone. The annual visits are now part of a fading memory..... but Chotkamama still remains lovingly in our ageing hearts as intense as the fear he evoked.