SURPRISE MAMTA BANERJEE

 

She fell asleep on her desk…and felt a soft touch on her face…Aha! So soothing at times a little prickly…a sudden sound shook her awake, to be greeted by a smiling face …Adwitiya (Gunu), greeted her. She thought of splashing some water on her face before going back to her work. The face that stared back from the mirror was a stranger’s, almost akin to the  image of an Alexandre Dumas character, …moustache, whiskers; beard and side burns…An ear shattering sgream rocked the whole  building. POPLEE!!! That is how she called her daughter...and then the sound of the retreating footsteps. Mm…that was face art and the helpless mama almost implored …’When will the schools reopen? MB  

R.KNARAYAN AND R.K. LAXMAN

 Rasipuram Krishnaswami Laxman(R.K.Laxman), was an Indian cartoonist, illustrator, and humorist. He is best known for his creation The Common Man and for his daily cartoon strip, You Said It, in The Times of India, which started in 1951.He touched his birth centenary on 24. October .2021. The first thing any reader of TOI would turn to was his cartoon. How well he left a cryptic message…what a thousand words would have failed to say. So was his sibling, Rasipuram Krishnaswami Iyer Narayanaswami was (R.K. Narayan), an Indian writer known for his work set in the fictional South Indian town of Malgudi . He was famous for making I NDIA accessible to the outside world through his literature. He typically portrays the peculiarities of human. I developed a great fascination towards R.K. Narayan and opted for I NDO anglian fiction because I wished to read on the works of such authors. He was one of the leading Indian fiction writers. Each time the English text book by CBSE was reviewed, they ensured an excerpt from the author was incorporated…I felt happy about it because students were introduced to this prolific writer …while his brother wielded his brush the later R.K.Narayan used his words he created

brave hearts...

 

Like the other years, I looked up the names of Nobel laureate, and I was happy to find the name of Abdulrazak Gurnah, for his uncompromising and compassionate penetration of the effects of colonialism and the fate of the refugee, in the gulf between cultures and continents”.  My special paper during my Post Graduation, being Indo Anglian Fiction and Common Wealth Literature my interest was more. Now, what made me doubly happy was the award being instituted to journalists Maria Ressa of the Philippines and Dmitry Muratov of Russia. The Norwegian Nobel Committee cited their fight for freedom of expression, stressing that it is vital in promoting peace. At the time of muffled voices and muted opinions this news acted like a soothing balm. Journo must be lauded for their strains and report. In this context, I would like mention about the journalist and the camera man… Odisha's popular television journalist, Arindam Das Friday died when an ODRAF power boat engaged in the rescue of an elephant in Mahanadi river capsized at Mundali barrage …where the camera man escaped, and was luckily saved. The snap-shots taken then, was from the camera that was held aloft in spite of the raging water…This was an example of …duty on to last. The risk taken by them is beyond imagination…while awarding the best in the society, think tanks should think about such brave hearts…MB    

Books and Reading

 

ON BOOKS AND READING…Mine is an old school thought…in this world E-Books and KINDLE, I still prefer the feel of pages …the smell of a new book and enjoy passing my fingers through the row of books stacked in my personal library…People world definitely call my thoughts outdated, but these days I CARE A FIG for others opinion…of course no offense intended. I always remember the words of my Professor don’t possess a book you want to read; you will never read it.’ That was one thing I never listened to. The pleasure of reading a book, finishing it and going over the lines over and over again, has always been a different treat for me…  MB

LANGUAGE…ENGLISH…

 

LANGUAGE…ENGLISH…

Anybody who offers English as a major subject would definitely read Shakespeare’s Plays…comedy and tragedy. Though Shakespeare said… That which we call a rose / By any other name would smell as sweet…. from the play Romeo and Juliet. Even now we come across names we read in these plays. Cordelia is King Lear's favorite daughter until she refuses to flatter the old man and gets booted out of the kingdom without a dowry. Soon after, she marries the King of France and raises an army to fight her wicked sisters and win back her father's land. The story is based on a mythological Leir of Britain.While talking about myths…the body of all myths…Myths are stories created to teach people about something important and meaningful. ... While myths are completely made up, legends are based on events that really happened. The Greeks believed in gods and goddesses who, they thought, had control over every part of people's lives. In this context-- Pegasus is a mythical winged divine horse and one of the most recognized creatures in Greek mythology. Usually he is depicted as pure white. Myths about him vary as the Greek myths evolve and reflect progression through successive generations of deities. Then the Pandora ’s Box is an artifact in Greek mythology connected with the myth of Pandora in Hesiod's Works and Days. He reported that curiosity led her to open a container left in care of her husband, thus releasing physical and emotional curses upon mankind.

Now we mortals…did we learn anything meaningful?

NEWS

 

The phrase “Fair is Foul, Foul is Fair” (Act 1, Scene 1) is chanted by the three witches at the beginning of the play. It acts as a summary of what is to come in the tale. Shakespeare uses the phrase to show that what is considered good is in fact bad and what is considered bad is actually good. It is a metaphor…TODAY channels ferreting news day in-day out…making a clarion call; vouching their news is REAL, AUTHENTIC, NOT SENSETIONAL, NOT FAKE, ABOVE NOISE, CREDITABLE…finally everything vests on the sensible listeners and readers. It is left to their discretion...while the rest gets drowned in the back ground scores…MB

BATTER...

 

Betty Butter is a tongue-twister written by Carolyn Wells. It was originally titled "The Butter Betty Bought." By the middle of the 20th century, it had become part of the Mother Goose collection of nursery rhymes….MCC thought about a gender neutral …’batter’…a terminology to be used instead of batsman….good they gave a thought about it. It does not sound right to my ears….A natural evolution in the cricketing language. When we accept teacher, doctor, human being, actor, houseman ship, and yeoman… anchor…then why do we need a change?

TIME AND PEOPLE mamta banerjee

 Strange how people fail to learn their lessons, in the worst of times.Each morning when I  pick up the newspaper to read...pamphlets and leaflets... of different colour slip out. They promise sanitizing homes, selling oxygen concentrators...etc...quoting some amount.I was just thinking aloud...these people are all out to make money at such distressing times.

Is there a granted that such people may steer safe from this dangerous contagion?   

THOUGHTS ...GALORE MAMTA BANERJEE

 What to think and not to think?

Tales of misery and death , crowd the pages.

A devastation of a different kind.

Has the Almighty left his creation to the lurch.

Fail to fathom  His designs...

God save the mankind from this situation...

That Rumbling Thunder...MAMTA BANERJEE

 Woke up to the rumbling thunder.

Streaks of lighting, lit my bedroom.

The air conditioner and the All out went -put.

O! a power cut...

I fidgeted for the bolt.

I wanted a breather of fresh air.

As the portals of my door opened...

Flashes of lightening greeted me.

There were some spatter of rain drops from the sky.

No breeze,...a lull of a kind.

Streaks of lighting, continued.

Suddenly I lost my interest to watch the downpour.

Got into MY beb-stead and woke up to the buzzer...

MY EUROPE TRIP...that got never got to be

 Everything was planned. We boarded the flight to Delhi. Things were absolutely fine for fifteen days.Then a bath with cold water, played a spoil sport.I had an attack of pneumonia..I could not breath.I had to be admitted in the hospital...when I regained my sense , it dawned on me  I had suffered lateral paralysis.  

All our plans were thwarted. I could not bear the looks of little Gunu...all her plans were gone.  Until some days I could not understand anything. I had to endure the body pain and the silent eyes that watched me...why-o-why?

Now it is two and a half years...still grappling with my paralysed fingers...assuring myself everyday that the fingers will gain strength......

FORGETFULNESS...Mamta

 FORGETTING

My forgetfulness puts me to shame.

This is for the third time-that

My geyser has gone for repair,

I feel ashamed ,

Why do I keep forgetting

Forget to put off the switch.

Shame and a sense of helplessness engulfs me...

AN ENGAGEMENT AFTER SUPERANNUATION by Mamta Banerjeee

 For once I am feeling happy.

Will tread the lines of teaching.

Will get a pittance  as salary.

No qualms...

Just a feeling, that I will be with students 

For sometime...

A feeling of dejavu.

My Trials and Turbulation by Mamta Banerjee

 I am a senior citizen, yet to learn about the ways of the world.Somehow got through my teaching years successfully, could add some accolades to my name.

I failed when I had to put  some reason  to my years. What  do  I call that foolishness?

I did not port my Reliance number, and did not know that my NPS was linked to that number. My husband paid visits to the bank several times, but they only showed the portal...FROZEN..this stretched for four long years.

My youngest brother passed away during this time. I  was feeling guilty that I  could not be present during his cremation.. I could not sleep and my blood pressure shot up.

My account stood frozen and I had no access to my account.. the amount was 50,000.One fine day I discovered my number was allotted to somebody else.Those people refused to give me my OTP, thus I started to have regular correspondence with the banks.

RBI, SBI, FINANCE MINISTER, PRIME MINISTER . Grievance cell of NPS.Frequent calls to NSDL.My students, friends, colleagues.There was a time, when I lost patience. 

Family members were with me for some time, they too got tired , did feel the stares of those accusing eyes...and I could read , foolish woman what did you do?

My Betu was concerned very much. But like CASABIANCA I resolved to stay put with my fight.Anju(my student) forwarded  an address and asked me fill in a FATCA clearance form, dropped one to the Maharashtra office as well...things started working. My phone number was updated, and my account was un frozen. PHEW!

Caesar's words...'friends, Roman's and countryman came to my rescue.Finally the amount was credited to my account.At times when I sit alone these lines haunt me..

'for want of a shoe the horse was lost, for want of a horse the knight was lost, for want of a knight the battle was lost, ... No one ever lamented, upon seeing his unshod horse, that the kingdom would eventually fall because of it....' In this case it was a goddamn mobile number.

...but I was able to save my fall...

VENDER'S CALL Mamta Banerjee

 'I'm the lyrical vendor, hip-hop is my shop'

Lil Wayne

It is an art, the art of rising early and peddling your wares. The call from the streets, selling different wares when we stand in our balcony or stretch yourself at the window.

They are ones, collecting papers, used material, or vegetable vendors. Women just rush out  from indoors to have a brisk bargaining. One gets any object at 100 rupees. You should see the smile on the lips of the buyers...as if the kohinoor is in their hand. 

The tumeric seller then makes his way, ladies of the house crowd near him...I wonder ...what do they do with such a lot of turmeric...the good old turmeric is always needed in the indian household.

Scurrying in and out of their home, purchasing and talking on the top of their voices with their neighbours. Those hours of happiness....

Astench meets my nose...hmmm...time for the dry fish vendor to sell his ware. No body moves out but they keep buying and buying....till half past noon. 

The calls slowly die out,the temple bells stop ringing. Time to go back home and prepare their sing-song voice for the next day....

PASSWORD by Mamta Banerjee

 Strange are the ways of the world these days. Password has become the sine-qua-non , of life. Everything hinges on this., one gets shut out and shut in just for a password. I believe life has really become a quagmire of difficulties. 

I feel so claustrophobic.

IT IS REALLY SAD TO BE POOR by MAMTA BANERJEE

 While having a conversation with my help, she said that her brother-in-law was hospitalised yesterday. She said he was paralytic, and was complaining of chest pain. he got admitted and said they were taken aback by the words of the doctor who exclaimed...how is this man still alive? He should have been dead by now.

The patient was a poor man, had it been a wealthy person wold the doctor have spoken like this? We equate doctors to GOD. Such discrimination is not acceptable.

With all the appreciation and admiration for doctors , such reations are not palatable.

I was shocked , and realised being born poor is really a curse. IT IS REALLY SAD TO BE POOR.