Category: Experience

Dual-people

As far as the universe is concerned there is physical attractions only which is cherished over love. May be it’s my thinking only but without any observation how can thinking be originated? Why people are becoming dual? Can’t they try to be a bit dedicated to the divine power of love? Why the colour of peace, care, sacrifices are not overwhelming over looks and attractions?

Wake Up

Even when you are surrounded with a loud beautiful music, you can be very lonely; you can be fragile enough to lose your dreams, your true entity and most importantly your self esteem. Do you know if we could measure loneliness then what would have been used? Actually I am not asking it to anyone, I am asking myself. Whenever I do feel like I am getting out of my emotional control I try to rely on writing and it gives me nothing but some trivial courage to hold on, to hold on to something that can bring my true identity which is not so strong like the outer shell of a snail but resilient enough to face the challenges. However, if I calculate the number of letters I write during such emotional outburst it generally counts very less in contrast to the number of letters written during a calm mental state. Just like now I am finding no more words to continue my writing and reaching the thin line of mental state to start something which I want to do in future.

PS: (I know I am nothing if compared to the big and majestic and worldly success but still I defy to write genuine words which are not fake.)

A Humble-Lofty Day in IISER KOLKATA

I really don’t know how to unleash my feelings but I am going to share whatever my procrastinated hands would scribble.

As my father had never gone to mohanpur campus where my elder brother is pursuing his PhD programme, my parents planned to visit his place- IISER KOLKATA, Mohanpur to spend some time there. However, as soon as I came to know about their plan I being very excited joined them.

Dada (my elder brother) booked a car for us which took almost 2 hours to reach there from our village- Andul. It was a fair morning of the month of October (3rd October, 2021) which was beckoning us to confront the tenderness of reverence and peace. Contrastingly, the festive nature adorned with catkins(in bengali- কাশফুল) drew humble white beauty against the cozy green and the horizon met the limitless sky in an unprecedented manner. The places near Kalyani are not cluttered. They are soothing to eyes and touching for heart; I remember the name of a place called Kampa from where the campus is just 20 minutes. After leaving kampa finally we reached there through the main gate(gate no. 4) where Dada had been waiting for us.

It was my father’s first time visit to my Dada’s research institute and I could feel the joy in his eyes for his son when the car just crossed the well maintained, neat and clean entrance. The overwhelming and mild elated eyes of my father expressed the faith of a father cherishing his child’s success. However, the huge campus seemed to me like the mixed wrapper of silent bliss and spry talents. My mother became harmonious with the flow of the environment and nostalgia brewed in her daydreaming.

Then, we entered the hostel, went upstairs and got into room no.322. The door of room no. 322 unveiled sweet mischief of my brother; he wrote his name on the door as if to live there for lifetime! To break our hunger we had canteen-made “suji”,collected by my sweet brother. After that every friend of Dada (Sayani di, Abhijit da, Subhadeep da, Bishnupada da, Tapas da, Diganta da, Suchetana di) came to meet us and they literally mixed up with us within such a short period of time. The frank and glib approach of them created amiable moments of spontaneous reactions where differentiations stood like the power of dignity and the aura of natural fun. Perhaps their simplicity connected the gap of being unknown. As we are sweet-loving persons, we took some sweets for them which they lovingly ate and those who did not like also embraced it. Apart from them another ‘person’ broke into our privacy whose name was momo, the doggy which was loitering in front of the door.Then it was the lunch time when we had delicious meals of the canteen. This canteen is huge and looked silvery clean. Students can also cherish their little pastime watching TV in that big hall of the canteen. I do not know whether it would sound foolish or not but I remember when we were eating lunch the famous film -Bahubali was going on in the TV. After finishing lunch we had another round of gossip; here no one can defeat my father and his favourite topic is perhaps wedding and the custom of finding brides for boys and groom for girls. So, when that cheesy and annoying gossip came to an end we went down to roam about the whole campus.

Dada took a bike and I took Diganta da’s scooty. Without having any other option my father believed in me for the first time to carry him. However, I loved the ride and a funny incident took place; the cap of my father was blown out by the stormy wind then. I was wondering to see the vast greenery of the place. There was a strange essence in the temple side where the trees webbed an unknown adventure. Dada showed us Bimal da’s tea stall also.

After that we visited the lab where Dada spends most of his time working. All I could realize there is that research is all about reverence, patience and peace. There was no eloquence to justify anyone’s capabilities; instead there was taciturn conversations. Really I never felt like this before. It is somehow a unique experience that is added in my bag of memory with lots of respect and love.

Suddenly it started raining and the place in front of the lab seemed to be happening more and more. It is a place where I can sit for hours and just observe, observe and only observe.

I am in love with this place

Then at 5.30pm we left the place after having tea and biscuits.

A Tiny Trip to ‘Mukutmanipur’

In this Corona-era life has taught us a lot but the monotonous being has snatched all our trivial happiness. A few times earlier, the wishes were wingless and meek but they now defy to prepare their wings for a little fly.

Kangsabati dam

When the heavy breathings of so much uncertainties and negligence overwhelmed, I tried to part with them and indulged myself in finding the way of having a free-freedom. As we know beauty is always in our eyes, so I decided to go to ‘Mukutmanipur’ which is just 180 Km away from Howrah and located in the district of Bankura. I think this pocket-friendly trip can give amiable moments to rejuvenate a craving soul who wants to explore. However, it would be better if I can depict the whole journey and offer you to visualize those tiny happy moments.

There are different routes to reach this village.

  1. From Kolkata many private buses are available which would take almost 6 hours.

2. By train, reach Bankura Station and then go to Bankura bus stop to avail Buses heading towards Khatra. From Khatra Mukutmanipur is only 11 km. One may book a car from Bankura station to reach Mukutmanipur directly.

I Preferred, the Train Rupasi Bangla (02211) which took 3hours 30minutes to reach Bankura from Santragachi junction. Then we took a toto to reach the bus stop (it took about 10min). We boarded in a bus which headed towards Khatra (it took almost 2hours) . From Khatra pump more we took a engine van to reach our destination (15min).

It is the first time that I have arranged everything of my own from online ticket booking to hotel booking. So, it is a memorable trip for me. With the blessings of the rising sun my mother and I set out. Luckily breaking my Dad’s belief of not having a toto at the silvery dawn we got a toto to reach Andul Station. After that we reached Santragachi station by 5.46’s Panskura Local. At platform no.1 the Rupasi Bangla express was ready to depart. We took our respective seats (D1/41&42) and the train progressed at 6.25am. We enjoyed our train journey with sleepy eyes. Though it was the middle of march (20th March, 2021), the cool winds did not make us feel so. However, the running bunch of greens welcomed us in our Sonar Bangla.

On the way to Khatra, through the window of the bus we cherished the landscapes that the king of seasons gifted. A vibrant beauty of Bengal with blooming red-‘Palas’ in the midst of dry fields seemed to be so enchanting that I just wanted to collect the fallen palas flowers and make a fine-garland.

Finally we reached Mukutmanipur when the clock struck at 12.40. Neglecting the drops of sweats we walked up to reach our resort- Sonajhuri Prakriti Bhraman Kendra which was close to the Kangsabati Dam. This nature resort is so beautiful that one can easily spend a quality time with his or her family. Here the shelter of tall trees and sweet chirping of birds touched our hearts. The rooms are on the lap of hilly rocks and there are many AC and NON AC rooms for accommodation. The names of the rooms are very unique as they refer to the names of certain trees like Tal, Tamal, Mahul etc. We stayed at Tamal-2 which neared the Hill top view point. A magnificent view of the dam can be cherished from the hill top view point.

Without any further do we took a cozy bath and got ready for having our lunch in the canteen. There the sonajhuri trees were showing their gracious presence through the window panes. After finishing the lunch we had a quick and nice nap in our soft and tidy bed. My mother woke me up when it was 4 o’clock. Then we went for exploring the dam area. From sonajhuri the dam is a 10 minutes walk. We reached there and reserved a toto for visiting places like pareshnath temple, kali temple, musafirana view point and the mohana of kumari and kangsabati river.

All these places were located on the dam. Basically the kangsabati dam is the major attraction in mukutmanipur. The setting sun created a golden splendour in the quiet water of the dam. However, the evening passed in the brewing fume of tea.

The next day we explored the dam by boating. Many stalls were there beside the dam in which beautiful earthen pots and crafts can be found. We took some of them to cherish the essence of the soil of Bankura.

We did not delay much as we had our train at 5:12pm from Bankura. I think it was a tiny but refresher weekend trip.

It’s all about how to perfect the imperfections

We are hardly aware of our lives which unveil a lot of teachings that enable us to grow. People are nothing but a farrago of imperfections to me and life is an opportunity to turn those imperfections into perfectness.

Cherishing experiences, good or bad, that made us sustainable in our own journeys works like a bless that the nature has gifted us. I think nothing can teach us like our own experiences.

Perhaps we all know these basic things but still we question ourselves to get a solution. In this random era we are trying to acquire a random solution but we need to know that life is not random; life flows in a direction which is much awaiting.

Nowadays morality of people cracks jokes in the name of ‘Gyan’ or ‘wisdom’. Yes, we are so mere to judge the word ‘wisdom’. We should learn deep and try not to make this great word so witty and funny unconsciously or consciously.

Experiences and values are the only things that can’t be stolen. They are meant to be our true guide in our long and fruitful life.

Wingless Angels

Why in India girls are so neglected? Since birth it seems to be her responsibility to bear all the stereotypical rules of a middle class family. Why did the blatant people take their freedom to live like a free bird? Why should ‘we’ only know how to behave, dress and talk! Is it just because of that holy X in our allosome or that sweet smell of estrogen! All we should do is to ‘compromise’?! Why we make no sounds and why we give all our emotions to boost up patriarchal mindset? Even after being independent we can’t do what we want. There will be thousands of cloaks to judge you and your capability. Most of the greedy eyes are here for us to offer beds of crimson roses but very few will gift us dews of a new winter morning. Yes we are still surviving, still growing but we are not living our lives. We are -”wingless angels”of our parents who fear to fly.

I ask, ‘why can’t we be we?’