A Cricket Crazy I Was

I had just finished one of my papers the previous day and sat brooding over what could have gone better. I focused on what went wrong rather than preparing for the next paper. But only until afternoon when the next match in the 1996 World Cup Cricket would begin. I reluctantly had my lunch and switched on the TV promising myself I would not stay glued to it for long.

Everything, including my mood and resolution changed in a few minutes when the winners of a certain ‘Best Catch and Run-out’ competition were to be announced. It was a few weeks before that when I decided on which was the best catch and run-out in a certain mid-match competition and wanted to answer the question. Sending through India Post, I knew would be slow and my answers would never reach before the last date, so I had called up my Uncle and asked him if he could fax from his office. He did.

Coming back to the announcement moment, my heart skipped several beats as I waited for the announcements; the judges' choices had matched mine! The second runner up was to be announced first and as the host Charu Sharma picked up the winner from a bunch of post cards, I knew it couldn’t be me! He then announced that he would pick up the first runner up from the bunch of faxes and I breathed a sigh of relief.  He then said it’s from a very far off place and I was almost telling myself that it had to me! In a few seconds, my name flashed across the TV screen and in those days when people paid less heed to privacy, my address too was on the screen. Yes, it was me! Yes, it was me!

I jumped up and down and cried and laughed loud and some of the neighbours thought that the siblings might be at their usual round of fights. I was alone at home and had just me to celebrate with! Not for long though as the phone started ringing...my uncle, my teacher ABD, my friends and relatives all who were watching TV that moment called up to congratulate. I called Baba but by that time the news had already reached him! Yes, it was one of those lucky lucky moments you want to remember for a lifetime.

I became a celebrity of sorts, everywhere I went random people would enquire and talk about it. I made several pen pals then, people who had caught my short address quick and written to me. At times, I would be embarrassed by people asking me if I had received the TV as it took a lot of effort from Baba and my aunt to actually get that coveted prize home. The Videocon 14 inch colour TV still lives in our home. Needless to say I didn’t care much for the First Prize as it was a ticket to Eden Gardens for the semis which I was eventually glad to have not won, thanks to the India-Srilanka outcome.

I don't think I will watch the 2019 Cricket World Cup but once was upon a time 'A Cricket Crazy I Was!

Summer of 1987

Shillong 1987



I don't remember which month it was but it was summer! It was just another normal day at school, when a group of boys entered the school premises and asked everyone to leave school. They also told us to stay at home for the next few days. What followed for the next few months could only be thought of as a story by anyone who has not lived it!

We were anyways growing up in an environment where we knew ourselves as outsiders, and we knew the reason...we didn't belong there and we didn't belong anywhere else! We were foreigners in our own country, yes we were foreigners in India.

It was another tribal/non-tribal clash. To be fair, it can't be called a clash as the land supposedly belonged to the tribals and they would resort to violence to create an atmosphere of panic.  It was one sided. This year it was directed at the Nepalis however at certain time or the other every non tribal community - the Bengalis, the Punjabi, the Marwaris all suffered. Banners and posters would clearly read 'Non-tribals get out'.

The KSU(Khasi Students Union) took the lead and resorted to violence against the non-tribals. Though initially it was targeted at illegal Bangladeshi however every non tribal community came under the radar. The state Government hardly took any action and watched in silence the death of non-tribals, the setting ablaze of shops and business establishments of the non-tribals, the unnecessary harassment to name a few!The Central Government was silent and indifferent.

When the Students' union leader was detained, what followed was 'blackout'. Yes, we lived in that part of independent India where we had to switch off the lights of our home in the evening. We  grew up in the midst of Bandhs and Curfews which were normal and never surprised anyone.

Our schools were closed indefinitely, hurting the young brains and making them fearful of each day. Our school however resorted to taking some classes outside school premises. We went to school in civil dresses, had combined classes with juniors and seniors. We did not have a class routine and lessons were taught on an adhoc basis. We kept learning amidst fear. Yes, we lived that life where we went to school in disguise. We waited for our parents to return home safe, after their work and not  a day passed when tension left us. Disruption of Durga Puja celebrations, hurling petrol bombs, deserted streets were the norm of the day.

So began another displacement, non-tribals in large numbers either vacated the tribal dominated areas or left the state for good. Some sold their homes  and properties to move to mainland India. Localities were cleansed of non-tribal population. Another kind on an exodus is what had happened unknown to the world at large.  This was neither the beginning nor the end of it...


https://do-re-mi-do-re-mi.blogspot.com/2019/06/summer-of-2018.html

Another chapter ends...memories that remain!

Its been little more than a week now and the feeling of loss is unexpressive...not many tears and a feeling of void and loss, and mostly numb...

A life gone, a cousin gone...leaving behind unanswered questions. It's like the leaves of a tree falling one by one, only this time the leaf was not old and withered!

So many memories come to the mind...of visits with Ma, of cricket matches and discussions and spending time playing games of marbles...memories of video games and often being told if I visited them to play these games.

Birthdays were incomplete without you all, all these wiped away by tides of time...

Aunts gone, Ma gone and now him! What remains? Barely a year after I wrote a tribute to 'Apple Pishi', her nephew and my cousin joined her too!

April 18th was his birthday and he left us all on April 26th. I didn't call him but left a message and meant to call him in some spare time. But that spare time never came!

His love for animals, cats and dogs are my very early memories of him. Every visit home would mean a visit to theirs the next or the following day. And of stories and tales from different worlds. Next time, it will be so blank and void...



Until we meet again Kuttu dada, you will stay forever in our heart!

This ‘Alpona’ done by you will remind us of your creativity. Wish there would be more ! This one, at the entrance will remain for as long as the colours don't fade.

Poila Boishak

Poila Boishak literally means the first day of the Hindu month 'Boisakh'.

Now basically the Hindu calendar is essentially different from the English calendar and even other Hindu calendars. To cut long story short, I get pissed off by people who think that the New year day will fall on 14th of April, every year! This is not true, it could be 14th or 15th depending on how it is calculated per our calendar.

Anyways, leaving aside the irritation and the explaining a dozen people, just a reminder to self and all is that one day before the new year, happens to be the last day of the year and eventually that month and known as 'Sankranti'. Basically last day of every month is therefore a Sankranti and known by different names. It's basically a transition. Again in some parts of Bharat, Sankranti marks the beginning of the month. The fact still remains the same - there are 12 Sankrantis in a year.

On the Sankranti day, the ritual we followed as children was to bathe in neem leaves and haldi. The scientific reasons have always been part of our culture, neem and haldi are antiseptics and yes changing seasons are the times when the body needs to be taken care of much!

The food also consists of having fried neem leaves, unripe mangoes in Daal which basically have a cooling effect on the body.

Poila Boisakh marks essentially the first day of the year when wishes are exchanged, friends and relatives are visited, new clothes are worn. This specifically means wishing the pleasantries to stay for the rest of the year.

Thank you India - Maria Wirth

This is not really a book review but just a compilation of my thoughts that gathered in my mind whilst  I read Maria Wirth's "Thank you India".

Maria Wirth's 38 year long experience is definitely worth a read, mainly because of her first hand experiences. I could connect with some of the chapters so well that I just wanted to put my thoughts across! I am not spiritually enlightened to even comment on some of her experiences, and would leave it to the reader to experience themselves.

I loved the way how this book is chronologically sequenced, bringing us to the most recent of times and making us connect with the events so easily. I love the fact that Maria has actually met some of the spiritual gurus of whom we have only heard or read!

What I mostly liked about the book is the honesty with which it is written and not with any tall claims to spirituality. Maria easily displays her human nature, the times she had doubts and frustrations and the times she felt at peace, the times she was a traveler and the times she relaxed. The coincidences she writes about can so easily be related to so many of our own experiences.

This book should simply be read because it reiterates the fact that our culture is so colorful and vibrant, whether it is her experiences of the Kumbha Mela, or her experiences of Ramlila. We should see it through her eyes because we miss it ourselves many a times, taking it for granted and not realizing that unless we preserve it, it will be gone for ever!

When I read her experiences on losing a close one and Abdullah's affirmation that we are all one in some plane, it gives some kind of strength.

I read about her experiences in the Satya Sai Baba Ashram and I can very well connect though I have never been to Puttaparthi myself but was fortunate enough to have seen him in person. I have my own little experiences, miracles if you will!  I have had my share of doubts and I acknowledge the good work and keep shut in spaces where I know my knowledge is limited. I remember now that I perhaps have  a copy of John Hislop's book given to me by someone and may consider a second read. Yes, these are all indications and signs. I say second read, though I may not have really completed my first read.

"Does one need a Guru?" is a question which many ask and Maria also tries to find her answer from her experiences.

She talks about how the caste system has been maligned, how the Brahmins feel bad about themselves and how to be a Brahmin in today's world seems like a curse. Anyone who has been on the other side of the reservation system in education and jobs know it so well.

Maria has dedicated some chapters to the contemporary India, her meeting with Sri Sri and Baba Ramdev, her views on English education, her views on India's culture and how an agenda is up and running to degrade India's value system.

She talks about how the Nirbhaya episode was portrayed across the world thereby projecting a very negative image of India. Initially I was greatly disturbed by the episode and though it was horrific, how it made headlines across the world was something I could not understand. Then slowly I understood the agenda and today I don't particularly read BBC news because they are hell bent on projecting India in a bad light! It was during the same time I created a FB page "India's Daughters (https://www.facebook.com/pages/Indias-Daughters/428360107340019) " to tell the world, and specially Indians, that the women in India are generally excelling across different fields. I chose this name for my FB page as there was a documentary made(by Leslee Udwin) in the same name showing Indian women as being terribly oppressed. Not that there are no issues but things are blown out of proportion.

Maria feels indebted to India  and feels that the world is in need of India's wisdom. Yes, it's time we value our traditions and culture and like she says. "Satyameva Jayate"

Memories stay

Sunday Musings!

This morning, my brother gave me the news of the passing away of Mrs Kay Dixon, an acquaintance of ours! My thoughts immediately went back to the time when I had met her back in 2010. Well, she was introduced to me by my brother when I was traveling to UK.

How my brother had met her is another story and just another human experience of connecting with people in the strangest of circumstances and then keeping a connection with that person as long as we want to and make the effort to keep the connection alive.

I was not much surprised at the news as all of us have to pass away one fine day and Mrs Dixon had surely lived her life well! I had met her twice in London and on one of these occasions she had invited me over to lunch at her place. I still remember the cosy corner where we all had lunch together...she, her son, Thomas and his wife, Emily!

What hit me most was the fact that I hadn't written to her for quite sometime now, not because I did not want or did not have time, but simply carelessness and not making that extra effort. It happens that other things take priority and we simply forget about some basic courtesies. I looked up her emails now and found that the last time I had communicated with her was back in 2014....4 years have passed since then and even though I have thought of her, I have missed writing to her!

I will always remember the effort she made to learn new things and do a little extra even at her age. How I wish I could travel back in time, make one call or write one email just to say 'hello' and ask her what was she exploring next. This won't happen and I will regret once more for not making that little effort.

To think someone you knew is gone somewhere, gone for good is a strange feeling which one cannot put into words. But yes, this life!

Wherever you are today, know that you will be in my heart, always, Mrs Dixon!

Does anyone feel the 'aaghaat'?

I attended a lecture last week on Trans Generational Trauma by Rajat Mitra at INTACH, New Delhi. This was organised by Srijan Foundation.

One of the questions asked was if Hindus really feel the trauma even after being subjected to atrocities since ever? Hindus seem to be living with an attitude that as long as the danger does not approach their doorstep they won't react nor will they pay attention to the obvious. And when the danger does approach, they will run away.

How much of running away will be done and for how long and will the boundaries of the earth be ever enough?

The story of many of my family and friends have been same. They have been forced out of erstwhile East Pakistan to live in the North Eastern part of India. They had to leave their home, their land and everything that was associated with their life. Though the North East has literally been and will remain the home for us for all times to come, but the truth is that we have never felt much at home. We have been asked this question right from our childhood as to where is our place of origin. Sadly our place of origin has been separated from India much before we were born and many of us haven't had the fortune to go and visit either.

Higher studies and jobs have been much difficult to find in the North East and for reasons of livelihood and to escape the refugee tag, we have moved to mainland India. So, in a way we have been driven out of our place of birth. Though the lucky ones like some of us can go back and visit the place when we want, stay in our own homes for a few weeks before getting back to the hustle and bustle of city life. But the majority of the little economically sound people have sold their big spacious houses with gardens and trees of yore and moved to cities. This I call the second instance of displacement in like say three generations. And all these after building everything from scratch.

Those who have stayed back live in fear; the recent incidents in Tinsukia prove that nothing is right and that no place is safe. It proves that nothing has changed.

Now the city life seems the way it was meant to be and we are peacefully unaware of the dangers that are lurking on our neighborhood. These dangers are in the form of external forces which are bent on changing our very way of life and imposing on us cultures that are alien and in reality a threat to our own existence. We are happy to be playing second fiddle, we find bliss in being tolerant and we totally reject the greatness of our being and we refuse to fight back.

Recently a friend had to unfriend me from Facebook because her boss thought or so she said that I was expressing opinions which were not fulfilling the parameters of tolerance. I never realized the unfriending as it is not feasible to keep all things in life in this generation of information overload. She called me to say this only after she had left the job due to health reasons. For me the unfriending did not matter but what mattered was the sheer spineless nature of our generation where we are just happy to be surviving this moment. We have conveniently forgotten what we have lost and we don't see what we will lose.

Also some of us in this generation have successfully managed to leave the country for better jobs and facilities and totally submerged in the western way of life that we have almost forgotten who we are!

So my thought goes back to the question whether there is any trauma at all! We are blissfully unaware that the dangers will continue and then we will not have a place left to run to. Unless we reclaim, we are a lost race!