Arnab Mukherjee

Hometown Diaries #2: The Void

For all of us, there have been moments when we can’t resist the urge to run away from the mad world that surrounds us. We wish to leave all the competition, all the rush, all the hurry behind and be someplace where those things are not only immaterial, they don’t even exist if you don’t want them to. I am talking of the void.

For those of you who haven’t been to small towns, you would think I might be referring to a rooftop or a vacation, but no I am not. For those of you who have been to small towns or, like me, have grown up in one, you would know exactly what I am talking about. The vast stretches of empty space that exist in the creases of civilisation, untouched and unscathed, often ignored, yet right there minutes away from the hullabaloo we call life nowadays.

Sitting at such a place, everything looks and feels clearer. The air, the sights, even the thoughts in your head seem to be much wider and spanning the entire existence in its potential. Being there, the mind runs uninhibited, through the cosmos to explore the limits of physical and philosophical being, and what lies beyond. Millions of ideas and theories are just waiting out there for you to come and reach out for them. You don’t want to wait, do you?

It makes me sad that these are becoming more and more of a rarity, and lesser of the purity that they once were, because I have experienced the feeling of being in the void. Do you know how it feels? Let me try and put it into words:

You drive for 10 minutes from your house, which is surrounded by houses more or less identical to yours. You drive away from the society that upholds hypocrisy and bureaucracy as its ideals and finds enemies in love and equality. You drive away from the din that has become the background music of your life. When you’re there, you turn off the engine; get out of your vehicle and momentarily, all your senses are in a state of panic. The air you breathe in contains too less a mixture of smells, the sound that falls upon your ear belongs to nature or silence. You look around and you see nothing, because as far as you look, you can see everything, without cars, buildings or people to block your vision. And then you do the most wonderful thing possible that gives you a sense of fulfilment and oneness with the universe.

You look up.

Image source: http://www.windsim.com (because my camera isn’t good enough 😛 )

I cannot express how amazing it is to have a forest less than 5 minutes walking distance from your house. Yes, you heard me right, a forest! (Although a planted one) This Eucalyptus plantation is huge enough to be called a forest and has everything you look for in a forest, which is a whole lot of trees, forest officers, their bungalows and the most amazing after-dark experience you can have with nature, especially due to the fact that the a river project canal, maybe Kangsabati or Subarnarekha, runs right next to it.

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The fact that I just got back from there before writing this makes it an even better experience for me to describe it, because the sounds are still ringing in my ears. Yes, the sounds are what I am talking about. Standing in between the canal and the forest, which no light around for as far as you can see and the smell of damp earth after a drizzle filling your lungs, you cannot help but drown in the ironic symphony of the cacophony of all sorts of night and jungle dwellers around you. The defiant croaks of the frogs seem to mould themselves around the must faster, shriller and more persistent call of the crickets, amidst tens, possibly hundreds of other creature calls from all directions. And if you are lucky, you might experience the one sound that silences them all- the long, distant yet much more dominant howl of the moon’s wildlings. It almost feels as if all of them, the frogs, the crickets, the wolves and even the silent snakes are just waiting out there a few steps away from you, waiting for one wrong step towards the invasion of their territory to absorb your existence into their multitudes. It is experiences like these that are humbling to one.

I have put up very few pictures and I can’t say that they depict the void with the highest efficiency. But then, nothing can, except for the experience itself. So if you have even one such place close to you, or accessible in some way, take the time out to go there. And if you don’t, never hesitate to come over. I’ll personally take you there. You’ll find true, fulfilling, tangible peace.

CHAPTER ONE: THE PROPHECY

The skies parted, the clouds farted and somewhere in heaven a party started. Somebody in that party was joking with somebody else, and the joke was about the kingdom. Somebody said, “All that place needs are a prophecy and a chosen one.” Somebody else joined in by saying, “Yeah, something like ‘Your chosen savior will be the third born in the third house beside the only elm tree in the village’, ha ha, just imagine that, a savior! Ha ha ha ha”. If the reason behind this laugh could be comprehended by you and me, the mysteries of might and magic would seem a lot clearer to us. Anyway, coming back to the tale, due to some mysterious charm at the party, and some interference by a cell phone ringing inconspicuously, somebody else’s words were broadcasted over the kingdom, just like a radio announcement, it was like this:

“This is RJ Goodlord on your most divine radio channel, Prophecy Network. Well, who doesn’t like something to look forward to? That is why we are here to bring you the latest update on fresh prophecies and chosen one’s. Last week Eraporn was nominated for the chosen ‘Hall of fame’ but sadly, his nomination was dropped after he was seen to be feeding some strange human kids on his porch with dragon ears and wings. And moving on to… oh wait… we have an incoming prophecy for the might and magic kingdom, straight from up above. Well here you go people:

“Your savior will be the third born in the third house beside the only elm tree in the village.”

Little was it known, that these casually spoken words would change the future of the kingdom beyond anyone’s most extreme action filled pre-destined scripted cliched dreams.

If you like it so far, check this space next Tuesday. If you don’t, then definitely check this space next Tuesday, as it only gets better from here

Hometown Diaries #1: Society

Whenever someone asks me the location of my home in Kharagpur, the answer I give often incites unique responses from them. The reason for that is, the name of the place in the local terminology is “Society”. Yes, that is the name. Officially named ‘Hijli Co-operative Society’, rarely is the full name used. Now that the nomenclature has been dealt with, let me tell you more about this wonderful place where my home is situated.

When you wake up in the morning and go out into the emerging daylight, your senses, especially your vision, are treated with sensations that bring to life the purity of this place. The crimson red of the morning sun rays paint the sky in the vibrant energy of a new day, but when it comes to your eyes, they are gentle and caring, as they illuminate the world around you. You can look straight at the sun and feel the hazy rays disperse in every direction through the morning dew that is still afloat in the atmosphere. Then you close your eyes, to give your other senses an equal chance to absorb the essence of this place. You take a deep breath and keep your ears open as your lungs are filled with dewy freshness and your ears are challenged by the sweet cacophony of early birds. If you are lucky, you might even catch a rare one or two sitting right there on your rooftop garden.

One of the most evident things in Society is the fertility of its soil. Wherever you look, in whichever direction, into the backyard of whichever house, you will find nature’s bounty present in its full glory, irrespective of the season. Be it the flowers of the winter, or the fruits of the summer, all of them have made their presence felt at this locality I call home. Hence it is normal practice here to share the fruitful bounties of your backyard with your neighbors. Don’t be surprised if you see a small mango or coconut orchard in someone’s home here. I personally have four coconut trees at home and my home isn’t even one of the big ones. It is this very greenery that grant us the gift of the morning freshness that we shared earlier. Not to mention the sheer joy of stealing the ripe produce of someone else’s trees and sharing it with friends under the shade of a similar tree somewhere else. Somehow it feels that these trees, who have stood the test of time and our onslaughts, have played a parental role in our upbringing.

When we were done with the mischief under the sun, we frolicked in the vast open fields in the evening. These playgrounds can be found almost every 50 metres in this society, huge open stretches, conspicuously missing grass either on a central patch or a large area overall, depending on the sport popular among its patrons. The first victory, the joy of scoring a half century, or if you were good, a century, calling all the friends and playmates from their homes, setting bushes and walls as boundaries, celebrations, rivalries which transformed to friendships instantly,
these are all some of the many memories I have of playing cricket with my friends on several such grounds. One of the most memorable things was the decision of who would bring the ball back when it went into a stranger’s house. I cant stop laughing when I think of the several incidents that happened on such occasions. There was one such house which refused to return the coscos that went into their area. As you can guess, the windowpanes of that house were not treated kindly by us. “Why?”, you may ask, and I answer, “because we had too many fields to choose from” 🙂

The one seen above is a very popular football field, which is still frequented by local kids indulging in a level of the sport that can only be seen on such unblemished grounds. Several of such fields that existed earlier have fallen prey to the growing demand of real estate in the area. In spite of that, there are more such fields in the Society than which can be filled by kids interested to play outdoors, which, sadly, is a dwindling number now.

Being brought up here since I was two years old, I cannot dare to skip describing the ‘streets of my locality’. Except for a few stretches of pitch street here and there, most of the streets in Society are red soil streets, bordered by grass on both sides. These streets have seen me falling from my first bicycle ride, and years later, from my first bicycle stunt attempt. Everyone who has lived here, has some special memory attached to at least one of the streets apart from the one his or her home is on. Be it a hiding spot after bunking tuition, a first kiss, the first drag on a cigarette, a first driving lesson, a lonely walk home, or any other of memories that are now as innumerable as the number of stones on these roads.

Being done with the daylight, now let me venture into the domain of the night. After sundown, this place sees little or no activity. Yet, believe me, in my entire life, I have not heard a more beautiful silence. This might have something to do with the fact that most of the huge houses seen here are occupied by elderly retired people who themselves intend to enjoy the silence, although the demography is changing with time. After being away from this place for almost four years (except the occasional visits) in a city, the tranquility of this place often overwhelms me, and I find myself listening to silence and staring into the starry skies for hours. That reminds me, the skies are a sight to behold at night, filled with stars like diamond dust sprinkled in a coal mine. For me, one of the most significant memories of childhood here was lying down on the roof staring at the night sky, surrounded by my family during a load-shedding of the electricity supply. I have not given a picture of the same, because, even though I have tried for hours, I have not been able to capture the way I feel about the night here in a camera.

People who have lived here might say two things after reading this post- The first being that I have not covered many things and places. My answer to that is this is just the first post in a long series. I am pretty sure you would not think that I have only this much to say about my hometown 🙂 The second being that maybe this post was objective at times, devoid of emotions. Trust me, every single word in this post has all the emotions that I have felt while growing up in this beautiful place for 16 wonderful years. And if you still ask me, I would say that if there is a best place to grow up on the planet, it is here.

The Tale of the Lord of the Songs of the Chronicles of Heroes in the Kingdom

**AUTHOR’S NOTE: A satire on fantasy. That’s all you need to know**

PROLOGUE

Once upon a time, there used to be no concept of time, and an abysmally large concept of space. So large in fact that there was only one kingdom on one planet in one solar system in one galaxy in one cluster in one universe. And that kingdom, like all other kingdoms in the history of kingdoms, was ruled by an evil twin brother of an unusually good king who was usually tricked into a life of penal servitude by the same. In this case, the evil twin was Tim, and the good twin of the evil twin was called Draconicus. Tim was a master sorcerer. In fact he knew basic tricks like the disappearing Taj Mahal and the double bullet catch when he was 3 year old. But his true might was realized when he pulled out a rabbit from his hat on stage. In fact it is said that this was what struck fear into the very core of people’s minds and made them accept his sudden rise to royalty unopposed. But all this magic could not help him take the final step to displace his brother from the throne. One day, sheer genius overtook his mind and he tickled his brother to the dungeons, and then justified that he must have committed a crime (A direct converse of the first crime then dungeon rule, hence justified). So, Draconicus was eternally locked up, and Tim ruled. The kingdom, like all other kingdoms, awaited a savior. But since it was the only kingdom, where would he come from? And then one day……

If you want to know what happens next, check this space next tuesday, i.e the 1st of July

Infinite Free Time: Not an Illusion

Nothing much is happening around me nowadays. My graduation is over and currently I am waiting for my employer to call me to join. In the meantime, I am spending all my time at home, with my family. This feeling is somewhat new to me. This feeling of having as much time at my disposal as I could wish for. Usually, I am habituated to not knowing how the day went by, with little or no time to actually sit down and observe what is happening around me, and sometimes inside me. I chose today to write this post because I have already spent more than a fortnight at home, well settled into the comforts and luxuries that usually follow staying at home, and there does not seem to be any change lurking around the corners.

The first question that comes to one’s mind when one is actually in such a situation is how to spend this much time. Contrary to popular beleif, having as much time as you could ask for is actually something as tiring as having no time at all. I spend most of the time trying to think up ways to spend the remaining time. Let me tell you, watching movies, television shows, reading novels etc are all embodiments of a slow and sluggish flow of time. Not that I dislike any of them, I actually survive on reading novels most of the time. But pursuing any one of those for the entire day, day after day, is somewhat mind numbing.

The question of utilising this free time and learning something new like driving, swimming etc does not come up, because then again that would require this feeling of procrastination and laziness to pass away first, which does not seem possible in this unrestricted atmosphere, where one is free to sleep as long as he/she wants, where the weather itself seems to be a lullaby lulling you to be comfortable, to take things easy, and where the world seems to be conspiring to take the power of taking a decision away from you.

What I have done, is to observe this daily routine, and come up with a few indispensible things, that would not be otherwise in my free time, no matter what the universe or timeline. They are:

1. Having cereals while watching cartoons in the morning.
2. Sitting on the roof with tea and a conversation
3. Home made food (Yes, that was a rarity for me during my graduation period)
4. The infinite open space that exists outside every small town
5. The instant transformation of something mundane to something memorable, when done with friends.
6. Listening to good music, thinking about downloading some, and never actually doing it.
7. Last one for now, but never ever the least, writing about anything and everything.

I’d rather observe these small things and feel their essence, along with the grandeur of life around me, than otherwise.
So tell me, suggest me, share with me, how would/are you spending all the free time you have?

Image Courtesy: http://www.alphamom.com

Things to Do

One thousand four Hundred and Twenty Three.

Seems to be quite a small number for the number of days I have lived in this city. That day, on the 8th of August, 2010, when I stepped into my new home, my paid hostel here in Kolkata, I was excited, nervous and somewhat sad. And then time happened. Right now I am sitting in my room,thinking about the things to do before I relinquish what I call my second home here in this city. Something inside me is making me procrastinate. Packing all the clothes and bed covers is not a big deal. Its the little things. The books that lay on the jungle that some people would recognize as my table. The numerous xeroxes that were dusted and respected only when the final bells of examination were tolling. The extraordinary balancing act of miscellaneous things on my table. The things that three of us roommates had bought together. The damp and decaying but ever vigilant Ezio Auditore on the Assassin’s Creed poster on my wall. And numerous things lost in the journey of life.

Photo Courtesy: http://2.bp.blogspot.com

This city has given me more than I could have asked for. It has given me nights bejeweled with the glimmer of the city lights and the glitter of a friend’s laugh. It has given me days full of the sunshine called hope and winds called adventure. It has given me new experiences in my daily cup of tea. The shining armor of the Howrah Bridge has shown me the intricate care and steel determination it takes to stand the ages. The pristine grandeur of Victoria Memorial has gifted me a sensibility of purity and a belief that memories, when you form them with the right person, are always the purest white they can ever be. The silence of the Park Street graveyard has given me the the knowledge of everything, that ever existed and will exist, being perishable in its own time. The hustle and bustle of Gariahat and Esplanade, the wonders of small but unique shops in Burrabazar, the pleasing beauty of Princep ghat, the passionate victories of Eden Gardens, the lush green expanse of Maidan, the deep rooted histories of North Kolkata, the ever rushing crowds at Howrah and Sealdah station, the footpaths, the fast food shops, and most importantly, the people full of life, have made me who I am now. And I couldn’t have been better.

Photo Courtesy: Animesh Ray Photography, (http://www.animeshray.com)

There are several things that I could not do, even in four years, which might make you reconsider my feelings. I could not become a member of the National Library. I could not have Golbari‘s Kosha Mangsho (for my non- bengali readers, kosha means fried for a long time with ground and whole spices over high heat until shallot/garlic/ginger have dissolved into a thick paste, which is applied to mangsho, i.e meat), Dalhousie’s delicacies, Cakes from Floury’s, and several other delicacies. I could not watch a theater show. I could not watch a match in Eden Gardens. I could not see the homes of the legends that inhabited this city, not one of them. Makes you think, “Then what did he do and what is he being so nostalgic about?”. The answer, my friends, cannot be contained in these pages.

Right now, there is only one thing to do.

Come back.

Shamless Self-Promotion for Writers

A perfect expression of what we need. We need this.

Give up?

Someone somewhere once started being active on their blogs. It became a social convention to do so. To post every few days. To write lengthy posts. To fill the post with high quality pictures. Conventions not all of us can follow. Or want to.

I have been having a tough time trying to get back to my blog and updating something. More often than not I have thought, Will this blog suffer the same fate as my last one? Then I realized something. I had been an idiot to shut down my last blog all along.

I sat down and gathered my thoughts. What made me shut down my last blog? I came up with a few reasons:-

1. Few or no posts over a long period of time.
2. Few followers and views over its entire existence (of a mere 1 year perhaps)
3. People saying that my posts cant be related to.
4. Some other reasons I cant recall right now.

I looked at all these reasons, from my own perspective. That is when I saw the light. I have been craving social acceptance all along. I am not trying to say that I am anti-social. But writing has never been about social acceptance. Definitely not my writing. It has always been about saying what I feel the need to say in the way I like to say it. To grow as a writer, I want to be strong and persistent. Not molded and cast into what the world wants to read.

I will take my time to write. I will take my subjects and write about them. This I say to all my fellow writers and my current readers. My deepest apologies if I have let you down. Cause when it comes to writing, my one and only passion, the first and foremost thing to me is not to let myself down.

And I wont.

Image courtesy: http://darlynfinchkuhn.com

Be the master

A simple line I glanced at on my own blog’s dashboard.. “Be the master of your own domain”, it made me realize something. I worry too much. Most of us do. In spite of having achieved something or more than something significant we start worrying about unnecessary things which can be done without worrying as well. For example, take me. I keep worrying about things like attendance, even when m in my final year in college. I am not saying that its something unimportant. But its not the end of the world. Nothing is, except the end itself.

This life, it is your domain. Its not a race to reach somewhere. Its a place to be made beautiful as you see fit. Take the initiatives you blame yourself for not taking. Trust me, 10 years down the line, no one is gonna ask you, how much was your attendance? 🙂

Hometown

The moment you step down from the train.. the fresh air greets u first.. accompanied by the familiar sounds that brought to you the familiar feeling of travel.. sadly, now it comes when you are back to the same place, your hometown.

We all are more or less caught up in the monotone shades of our city lives nowadays, some in work, some in classes.. mostly in boredom and a stagnated state of life with brief intervals of indulgence that fall into their own pattern of repetition with time. Such outcomes make us wonder, is this who we really are? can we never be the same carefree selves again, what we once were, what used to define us?

Yes. We can. Get up. Catch that train. Yes, the train that takes you to those familiar soils and those lush green fields where you once ran free. Let the freedom of silence overcome your fear of listening for a change, because, trust me, you wont hear something harsh. You’ll hear the sweet sounds that you slept to once upon a time, which seems to be in some distant past. The friendly banter, the scolding of the teachers, the dance of the crickets and even the echo of the silence.

Once you are there, sit down beside that lonely road and look up at the stars. Just do, cause no one here is gonna look at you like you are some crazy poet or a weirdo high on stuff. Look at the clarity even in the skies and the moon bright enough to light up your whole life. The wind that is so powerful it can re-instill your life inside you, even if you don’t know yourself the extent of death inside you. Don’t worry, it wont be there for long. Its gone as we speak.

Remember. All the things that were ever there. Yes, the bad ones as well, ’cause then you’ll know how less they matter. I mean, how can they matter? Look at yourself, you are wonderful. And it is because of this place.

Never, ever, doubt your existence. If you ever do, go back. To the place where your heart truly belongs. The place called home.