a small village named Krishnaganj beside the river Churni somewhere in bengal, India

কৃষ্ণগঞ্জ গ্রাম টির নাম

চূর্ণী নদীর পাড়ে
চূর্ণী নদীর জল টলমল

বৃষ্টি যখন নামে
বৃষ্টি এল ঝমঝমিয়ে

বাঁশের মাথার ওপর
বাঁশের বনে ঘাপটি মেরে

ভাই বোন দুটি বিভোর
ভাই এর মাথায় ঝাঁকড়া চুল

চোখ দুটো টানা টানা
চোখের মণি বোন সে আগলে

পাখির একটি ছানা
পাখিরা সব চুপচাপ

সন্ধ্যা নামে ঝুপঝাপ
সন্ধ্যা বাতি তুলসী তলায়

মা ডেকেছে ঘরে ফিরে আয়
মা যে তাদের গাঁয়ের বধু

কৃষ্ণগঞ্জ গ্রামের শুধু
কৃষ্ণগঞ্জ গ্রাম টির নাম........

a short story

The "other" number.
He pulled one last drag on the cigarette, the final embers burnt brightly before dying out. With one swift flick of the  finger he flung the butt away. The aftertaste was bitter but satisfying. It was difficult getting these damn cigarettes now with the general bandh extending to its 60th day. He could very well remember that day when the morcha supporters bombed the CM. He had huddled the scared ministers into the safe room and then from there to the safety of Bagdogra Airport the next day. He could still recollect their horrified faces. Who would have thought that such an august gathering of all ministers of CM s cabinet would be bombed upon. Now the bandh is one fish bone badly impacted. The hills are dark and soundless. People hungry and unhappy cut off from the rest of the world. He looked pitifully at the snubbed out cigarette. Who knows when the next batch of cigarettes will arrive.
Rubbing his hands to beat out the chill he looked at the lake below. The lake shimmered like liquid silver. Today like every afternoon, at the end of the hard days work, he had jogged up to the monastery. From its terrace the view of the mirrik lake awed him everyday afresh.
He has opted for this outpost, the peaceful serene beauty of this quaint lake town had forever attracted him. His DSP had obliged, everyone was fond of him, he was capable and hardworking and his aryan good looks had created in-roads into the hard hearts of his superiors.
For once he glanced at his watch. It was late evening. By now his 3 yr old son would be back from the park where he goes every day with his grandfather. He visualised his wife preparing dinner in the kitchen and hoped she too would be looking at the clock. Wasting no more time he again jogged uphill leaving the monastery behind he reached the church. The church was quiet and desolate, its gardens full of blooms. He plucked some over-ripe squash fruit hanging from creepers on the wall playfully juggling them he found his favourite bench and sat down. The caretaker knew him from his frequent visits. This sipahi came to this height every day to catch the mobile network. The caretaker carefully slipped away.
He had not been home for 45 days now. He brought out his brand new note 4 and dialled his home number. After 3 attempts it did connect. His 6 yr old daughter was the first to speak today, "Baba...!!!" then his father, "Babu...!!!". His wife spoke less mostly about money and salary and school fees and, "Maach er daam khub bereche..!!!". The family lived 500 kms away from where he was. His wife never liked the mountains, She had arthritis. Five minutes into the phone call and he already needed another cigarette. He searched his pockets in vain but then.... his fingers touched the"other" phone... the "other" phone was small, unorthodox, hidden away safely.... looking up at the new rose moon he dialled the "other" number....

THE   END

bengali poem

টাট্টু মহারাজ

যখন আমি ছোট্ট ছিলাম
                   বয়স সবে পাঁচ
আমার ছিল কাঠের ঘোড়া
                         টাট্টু মহারাজ

রং ছিল তার সবুজ হলুদ
           কান দুটি তার লাল
কালো রঙের ডোরাকাটা
               ছিল পীঠের ছাল

সকাল হতেই টাট্টু চেপে
            দিতুম আমি দৌড়
আকাশ বাতাস মুখে মেখে
          ছাড়াই গলির মোড়

দুধের গেলাস হাতে নিয়ে
            সকাল হতে সাঁঝ
মা ছুটতো পেছন পেছন
         ছেড়ে দিয়ে কাজ

ভাত খাব না চানে যাব না
         চলত আমার বায়না
টাট্টু সাথে খেলব খেলা
         কোনো দেরি যে সয়না

হঠাৎ করে বাদলা দিনে
          মনে পড়ছে আজ
কোথায় আছে কেমন আছে
    আমার টাট্টু মহারাজ

Tusi-the wild bird

The closest i could get to wildlife was this parrot which i had named "Tusi".Yes it was a feminine name even though i could not decipher its gender.On one sudden whim of passion i had bought the parrot for 200 rupees. The vendor was carrying about 10-12 such birds each in a very small cage. Later, from a bird-watcher friend i learnt those parrots were babies  snatched from their nests, caged and sold as such. Sometimes their flight feathers were clipped to disable flying. Had i known this earlier i would never had bought it in the first place. Anyway i did buy Tusi that day, thinking it as a pet, adorable birdie, well taken care of, who will whistle or talk someday, a companion to my then 7-yr old son.Someday a human-bird relationship will blossom. 

Over the next one year span that Tusi remained with me, it did not grow in size, did not utter one single word, did not whistle at all  and all my attempts at taming the parrot was lost. So I had to label it as "Tusi-the wild bird" All she did was screech and claw and beak the cage.I bathed her, fed her, cleaned her cage. Every morning i checked on her fearing death or disease. She never was sick but also never felt at home and I could feel that the parrot did not like us at all. 

It was then that i thought of releasing her. I gave her three coaching lessons in flying. Closing all windows and door the first time i opened the cage she jumped and hopped here and there, on the second day she flew around the room then perched on the wall. The final day i had kept the cage in the open verandah, she hoped first on the cage itself, gave it a final jolt with her beak and flew out into the open, circled once and then flew to the nearby tree. I frequently used my son's toy binoculars to search Tusi but the wild parrot never came back and i found solace in the thought that she is happily screeching, free and flying somewhere in the open blue sky. 

far from the madding crowd

It was 4 pm when we reached Chilapata, a quaint town nestled among forests somewhat near the indo-bhutan border in the newly formed alipurduar district, west bengal, india.
The sun was about to set, the wind blowing softly, rustling the leaves. It was early spring with a cold nip in the air. The resort offered an excellent view of the nearby forest.
Branches of the tall trees swayed in the wind, the rain clouds were gathering. The horizon had changed colour from yellowish orange to crimson. The setting sun, the dark clouds in the backdrop of the forest canopy unfolded an ethereal beauty in front of our eyes.
Suddenly from the tree tops they started calling - the peacocks, they started calling from far from near sometimes alone sometimes in unison. Tearing through the approaching darkness their shrill calls reverberated in the air.
The rains had started. The ground which had a long dry spell gulped up the moisture emanating that wet mossy smell of grass.
We.... opened all our senses every pore of our body, soaking up the pristine natural beauty of Chilapata forest.

Travelogue

Travelogue the best place to be when travelling i find is the... airport, yes i found that out in our recent trip to rajasthan when we had to change planes with a waiting time of 4/5 hours the moment you enter an airport the world changes, a totally air-conditioned atmosphere, clean air to breathe in, what a relief from air pollution outside clean walls greet you, no paan spits, thank god for that and no urination marks either.. disgusting!! the floors are smooth and even, no ups and downs, even i could do a clean catwalk on my heels👠 this time at delhi airport i experienced another pleasure that of not walking but moving ahead... ya guys a moving metallic roadstrip just like elevators 🛣️ great place to exercise though, miles and miles of space at least metro cities have large airports... in the small airports too you could window shop for ever and burn all those calories, even though the place is large you won't get lost, how much ever you wander you are sure to come back.. thus happened with my son, i could leave him wandering around and did not become tense, he usually always came back to us... becoz there are no exits 😀 comming back to shops.. O M G.. what exuberant shops they have, delhi airport, i saw shops of all foreign brands... i could only gaze and slither away... not having the courage even to ask the price... but i did show an air of dignity, as if i am not interested!!! 😀 the food plaza... awesome... i think i saw the freshest fruits and vegetables there than anywhere, though a tad costly, but you don't get to taste Hagen daz ice-cream everyday, one scoop was 200 bucks and with gst added up to 250... but i will remember the creamy concoction for years to come 😊 the restrooms 🚽 were good, with good staff all the time, not like those at shopping malls nowadays i find the staff decking themselves up on the mirrors, putting on lipstick and invariably 3 out of 4 toilet doors will be closed 😠 drinking water portals are everywhere, along with mobile changing counters... free Wi-Fi too 📲 Airports are a treat for sore eyes like mine, i always get to see sick men... coming at me coughing or vomiting all unclean and messy.. but here even the security constables are so damn handsome, the airport ground staff so well groomed and dressed.. uff... i could forever go on looking at them... 😜 so, all in all i find the airport as the best place to travel to ✈️🛫🛬🛩️🚁

nature

chilapata forest... jeep safari