Archive for July, 2010

18
Jul
10

class of ’95

By aanch 4 Comments
Categories: Bombay, Life, school and Thoughts

There is a very famous play doing the rounds of theaters since some time – Class of ’84. The plot revolves around 7 people from college meeting after 17 long years. I will not delve into the rest as I haven’t seen the play myself. But I did see another kind of play being enacted at Azzuri Cafe & Lounge on July 17, 10 and what’s more I was one of the actors. This plot revolved around 12 school friends meeting after 15 years.

The story began some months ago, when one of our classmates, PR took the effort to scan our Std. Xth class photograph, upload it on Facebook and tag as many as 50 of us. What followed was completely unbelievable. In a matter of days, everyone was commenting on the pic. Those who were not on our friends list were being traced and added. Everyone seemed to go back in time recollecting stories from school. I was extremely happy to be connected to my classmates as back then I wasn’t very social and hardly ever spoke to anyone outside of my group. And boys were certainly a big ‘no’ save for NM (Nilu) who was my childhood buddy (who I would rightfully bully). From here stemmed the idea to have a reunion, something that was immediately lapped up by all. The date was set, venue fixed and curiosity heightened. Though many of us were out of Bombay and out of India, we didn’t let that be a damper. The idea was to set the ball rolling.

And so the evening dawned and I set off with mixed feelings of anticipation and excitement. Anticipation at the numbers that would show up (it will be demoralising if it turns out to be a no show) and excitement at seeing them all again after 15 years. As I reached Azzuri, I was filled with dread thinking I was the first one to reach. Thankfully BM, MC and SG were already present. We made our way up to the 1st floor; everyone with similar thought, “how many of us are going to turn up tonight?” Then came NM and we waited, chatted up with each other, catching up on long lost years. Then came DB and for a long time no one came. We looked at the door anxiously everytime it opened. That’s it just 6 of us. For the all the conversations we had we expected at least 15 people and 3 of them (AD, HS, ND) had messaged their apologies due to some sudden developments. So if not 12 at least 10 as a saving grace. And then it happened as one by one the rest started trooping in – RB, HP, SB. Phew we were now 10…sigh of relief. MK who was the most enthusiastic had to drop out as he was down with bad flu and we were truly sorry that he would have to skip this evening. KM one of our classmates who was in the US had asked us to call him once we had a good enough quorum so he could be present in spirit if not in flesh. Looking at the projector and big screen I was thinking to myself how good it would have been to see KM on the big screen and talk to him at the same time. And as if someone read my mind, the door opened and in stepped KM himself in flesh and blood. Amidst loud exclamations, hugs and pat on the back we chided KM and EK (not present) for successfully pulling off the surprise as we were all under the impression that KM would not be able to make it for this meet. Indeed what a pleasant surprise it was.

It was nearing 11.30pm and we were almost through with our drinks and sizzlers when NM announced that he’s still optimistic. “Everytime that door opens I feel someone will walk in”, said he. And lo! behold who should walk in but MK with his wife. Oh! my god. Were we dreaming…no he was here coughing and obviously under the weather in health but not in spirit. It was really touching to see that he took the effort of putting their baby to sleep, take his dose of medicine and reach Chembur only to meet us despite the unearthly hour. Some conviction he had that we would still be there.

SB suggested we all narrate an incident from school time that stayed in our memory or that nobody else knew. Of course this was like an invitation to open the Pandora’s box and we all delved into the recesses of our memory to dig out that embarrassing anecdote of those present or absent. A lot of stories came out and I was astonished as I had been very oblivious to almost all of them. The clock ticked 12.30am reminding us that we had to make a move. Reluctantly everyone called for the bill and when it arrived we again fought over the payment with the division being handed to those good with numbers. It seemed like we just wanted to drag the time and not let go so soon. Finally the bill was paid and we trudged downstairs but not before clicking loads of pictures for those who missed out. Loads of hugs and kisses followed, BM & NM offered to drop the rest home and we bid adieu to each other with the promise of meeting again.

We were all of 15 when we left the haloed precincts of our alma mater and today we are 30. We learnt many new things in our journey from adolescence to adulthood; we also let go off many things as we travelled. But one thing remained constant and that was to be a child at heart forever.

To those who came; thanks guys for making this evening special. To those who missed out; there will be another time.

And to those reading this post; welcome to Std. Xth, Div. A…the Class of GEA ’95.

03
Jul
10

city of joy – adieu

By aanch Leave a Comment
Categories: Bombay, Calcutta, Family, Life and Thoughts

After the idyllic Shanti Niketan, we were back to the sounds & sights of Calcutta. However since I was to fly back the same afternoon, we had to get into action pronto and Ant R and me immediately left for Flury’s, a popular breakfast joint again from the British times. A lovely place with wood work and the fragrance of fresh coffee and bacons, sausages and eggs  permeating the sounds of cutlery and the hush tones of the patrons. SK would have loved to come here and she’ll be mighty furious with us for not bringing her here while she was with us were the thoughts that crossed both our minds. We ravenously tugged into a hearty English breakfast and left for home stopping on the way to buy some sandesh (else I would have been dead meat had I gone without any Bengali mishti). I also indulged in my last touristy activity of this trip and that was a short ride in the tram with Ant R’s driver following us.

Ant R and her mother dropped me to the airport and with a heavy heart I bid them adieu. As I walked through all the formalities I couldn’t help but get emotional at the thought of leaving this beautiful city with its old world charm and delicate balance between history and modernism. As I deliberated if I should call Ant R and speak to her mother (lest I give in to my emotions), Ant R called and as her mother spoke to me, we both opened our tear gates and let our emotions flow freely much to the amusement of my fellow travellers.

Finally boarded the aircraft and soon I was back in Bombay. My Bombay, my home, my city on which I prided. But what was happening? Why wasn’t I happy, excited, elated at returning home? I don’t know. I can’t explain. I didn’t look forward to it one bit. I trudged home with a heavy feet and an heavier heart. I was longing to go back to the simplicity of Calcutta. It took me a long time to get over it and I almost gave my mother a heart attack when I wistfully confided in her that I wished to quit my job and go to Shanti Niketan. “But what will you do there?” was her anguished response. Anything. Study dance or music. Maybe learn pottery and sell terracotta artefacts by the road side. Anything that will let me live there. Wisely she left me to myself hoping that I will come around soon. Well come around I did (better sense prevails everyone) but I know now where my heart truly lies and where do I truly belong. So yes in a way I am at peace having calmed my restlessness with answers.

Thus ended my sojourn with the erstwhile capital of the East India Company. A city that captivates you with its simplicity yet surprises you with its traces of modernity. Calcutta truly is a city of joy.

03
Jul
10

city of joy – shanti niketan

By aanch 1 Comment
Categories: Calcutta, Life and Thoughts

We left for the sacred land founded by Gurudev Rabindranath Tagore by train accompanied by Ant R, her mother and her cousin. “So near to the hustle bustle of the city, yet far from the madding crowd” is the only way I can describe Shanti Niketan, a mere 3hour journey from Calcutta. The place still feels like how it may have been during Gurudev’s times which was during the independence era. Small, quaint and charming, Shanti Niketan draws you to its fold, slowly enveloping you in its warm embrace. Dusty roads, cycle rickshaws, tiny stores selling essentials, rows of terracotta and artefact stalls and cute cottages with small gardens in front lend this place its aesthetic beauty. We stayed in once such pretty cottage called Bon Pullock which means blooming flowers.

But its identity sure comes from the Viswabharati University set up by Gurudev. Vast acres of land adorned with banyan trees are reminiscent of the time when girls studied here in open air. For those unaware, Shanti Niketan boasted of being the first open air school for girls at a time when education for women was looked down upon. A litterateur, a poet, a social worker and a Nobel Peace Prize winner, Gurudev Rabindranath Tagore was a man way ahead of his times. His contribution to Bengali literature and music is still evident when you hear strains of Rabindra Sangeet or quote verses from ‘Gitanjali’. The University has expanded from being just a school for girls. Today it has incorporated various streams of fine & performing arts like architecture, music, dance, sculpting and painting to name a few. This is visible through various sculptures installed across the university and murals & charcoal sketches on various faculty buildings all created by the students themselves.

As the University and various museums were shut due to Pujo, we didn’t get to see a lot of work that is otherwise displayed. However while taking a walk in the haloed precincts of the university, we chanced upon an art exhibition by artist Prof. Selim Munshi at Niharika Art Gallery. Prof. Selim has painted the landscapes of old Shanti Niketan on the exact spots themselves. Many of the then spots are now either modified or demolished. Apart from water and oil colour paintings, the artist had also put graphics, sketches and sculptures on display. The works displayed were simply awesome that depicted the Shanti Niketan of yore. While meandering aimlessly we also chanced upon the ancestral home of Nobel Peace Prize winner Amartya Sen apart from the house of Gurudev’s wife, which is now being used as a room for prayers and yoga to keep the mind, body and soul intact.

From here we visited Shyamolie (meaning black beauty), a cluster of houses with granite sculptures engraved on the walls. The sculptures were truly breath taking as each of them depicted figures in various dance poses. We drank in the finesse of the sculptures and marvelled at the artistic talents with hungry eyes yet we couldn’t have enough of them. A befitting gift to an Alma Mater committed to enhancing artistic pursuits. Not just the university, but even while walking, one comes across small huts that double up as art galleries probably displaying works by students or novices who may not have the means for a grand exhibition.

Another interesting place we visited was Srijani Shilpagram that hosted models of country life in the states surrounding West Bengal comprising Andaman & Nicobar, Bihar, Sikkim, Meghalaya, Manipur, Nagaland, Assam, Orissa. For someone who has visited only Sikkim out of the entire list, I was fascinated by the models. The jewelery, the pots n pans, clothes, structure of homes was so captivating that each model transported me to those states amidst the natives. Then entrance too was a huge terracotta structure with intricate carvings all over it. It was extremely painful to tear ourselves away from the place.

As with every tourist, there was a comedy of errors that happened with us too. Our return train was at 7.30am but Ant R mistook it for 19.30. We spent the whole day roaming in the lush countryside, shopping for terracotta artefacts, famed Shanti Niketan bags and batik & kanthawork sarees. Thank God for Ant R’s mother who happened to (like all mothers) goad her daughter to recheck the timings, coach number and other details that Ant R let out a gasp at the faux pas. She and her cousin hurried to the station to check for a later train or one early next morning but to no avail. Since it was past 8pm, everything was dark and it was unsafe to undertake the journey as the route was via the highway. Eventually it was decided that we leave at the crack of dawn the next day and accordingly booked a cab. In this entire milieu I was plagued by mild panic attacks as next day I was to fly back to Bombay in the afternoon and I still had some more things to do and see. Well since the damage couldn’t be undone, we passed the night and next morning set off to Calcutta reaching home by about 9am.

However something in me just didn’t want to leave as I could feel the invisible hands tugging at my heart strings beseeching me to not forsake it for the city life. Never before have I ever experienced such belonging to any place and I was shocked at my own silent tears that kept my eyes misty for the entire 3 odd hours. Never before have I turned back forlornly with a promise to return. I have to keep my promise and hopefully someday I will go back (hopefully as an accomplished Odissi dancer).

The whole experience was purely magical and in every grain, every granule of mud, every drop of water and every whiff of air you find Gurudev’s presence overlooking his beautiful Shanti Niketan.

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