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Thursday, November 3, 2011

Feline kindness


Feline kindness


My young friends, by this time you must have become familiar to  Pinky and her myriad adventures with Tukai, a friend, Babloo , her little cousin brother and Bhulo, the famous pet dog.  To day I would rather tell you specifically about the adventure of her pet Bhulo, and not of his master.

It is necessary that I give you a background on Bhulo. Exactly a year and half ago, Pinky found a squeaky and shivering little puppy at their garden gate, in the wee hours of a winter morning. The poor puppy, it seemed, was left there by some cold and unkind soul all by itself, alone, hungry, shivering and scared. It was a cute little puppy with soft brown hair all over the body with only a patch of white on its forehead and ears, with black marble like eyes and a pink nose. Pinky picked it up in her two soft palms and cradled it to her warm and kind bosom. It was love at first sight on both  sides. The puppy was given both a name Bhulo and a home, was taken well by the members of the family and was added as one of them. But Bhulo took to Pinky as its master and would always follow her, wherever she went. Bhulo was a spoilt and naughty puppy and often got scolded for mischief. Bhulo seemed to like it that way and did not try to mend its ways.

Pinky and her family lived on the outskirts of the city of Kolkata, at fringes of the city to be exact. The lane on which their two stories house with a small garden stood, was named Duttapara . It was an old locality , the families were known to each other as the children grew up together more as a joint family. Most of the families lived there by generations together and though they were not poor,  some of them were quite well off, but there was a very strong and healthy fellow feeling amongst them. They celebrated Eid, Christmas or the Pujas as if , all belonged to the same religion, same conviction, same faith. On one side of Pinky's house lived Tukai with her family and on the other side there was a posh big bungalow, the occupants being rather snob putting- their- nose- in the air- type. The family comprising of  the father, mother and a twelve year old son, moved in the locality about six months back. Others in the homely and friendly neighbourhood , after one or two efforts, stopped trying to be intimate and kept their distance, much to the relief of the Roys, as they were called. Mr and Mrs Roy were seldom seen in the open except getting in or out of their car. They had a son about twelve years old, who was not allowed to mix with the middleclass children in the locality, who attended a Public Boarding School some where which the people of the locality were not aware of. Nobody even knew what was the name of the boy and he was avoided by all and sundry, during the long holidays, that he used to spend alone in their huge and well decorated bungalow. The children of the neighbourhood, including Pinky, Tukai and Bablu also kept a safe distance, afraid of offending the ultra rich..


It was a warm June afternoon, the schools were closed for summer vacation and Pinky, Tukai were playing Chinese Checker. Pinky was way ahead ahead of Tukai, with four of her red pieces already in the opposite triangle. Bablu, who was watching with eager eyes, cheered her every move. Bhulo was sleeping curled up on the divan. Tukai was getting irritated, as she was sure to loose the game and suddenly  said “I am not going to play, Bablu is disturbing me ; he his your brother and cheering you only and distracting me. It is not fair” Pinky realized it was true and scolded Bablu mildly. Keep quiet bhai, you are hurting Tukaididi , and why don't you play with Bhulo instead. But where was Bhulo? They all realized that the culprit was away, to one of   its naughty adventures. Bablu was sent to find out what the dog was upto and Pinky and Tukai again concentrated on their game. A few minutes later Bablu came dashing in, he was flustered and panting, white in the face and could only utter come come save Bhulo. Pinky, Tukai and Bablu went running outside, Bablu led them to the back side of their building just outside the kitchen window their stood Bhulo and Tommy. Now you must be asking, who is this Tommy.? So let me give a short introduction of this one eyed fellow. Tommy was the villain and the hero of the neighbourhood cats and dogs. It was a mean and cruel tom cat, viscous and ferocious , clearing away all its rivals from his hunt for food. In the beginning it had to fight a lot to establish its supremacy and in the process lost one of its eyes but it was successful in cowering down all the rising rebellious tom cats before him. The lady cats looked up to him as a hero and gave it a lot of adoring and respectful look and ofcourse the tom cats hated him.

Bhulo in his own, was an extremely friendly dog and all loved him for this and he had an easy access to every house in the neighborhood excepting the Roys, next door. But he was extremely jealous of his territory and would not allow any sort of intrusion in the form of  birds or animals. He would bark away the crows that would like to sit and create nonsense on the bushes in the garden. He would bark and chase away any cat, that would dare to enter any part of the house. Tommy was so long watching Bhulo with his mean eye and contemplating an attack. That day Tommy entered their kitchen through the back window and was just landed down with a big piece of cooked fish in his open mouth, when Bhulo confronted him. Bhulo was angry and barked at Tommy in a bid to chase him away. A livid Tommy, visibly angry and disturbed turned to face Bhulo. when the three musketeers  reached the spot they found, Bhulo was crouching embarrassingly scared, with his ears and tail down and Tommy was standing with his back raised like an arrow, with hairs standing erect and fangs and nails out , slapping and scratching Bhulo with a paw. Pinky picked Bhulo up and Tukai gave a good hard kick to Tommy and three of them trouped back silently into the safety of their room. Once inside Pinky let Bhulo down on the floor and all three of them glared at him and cried in unison. .”Shame on you Bhulo”. Bhulo crawled under the divan and refused to come out even in the meal time. It was about six months back.

It was now December and schools are closed for Christmas. On a cold December afternoon Pinky and Tukai were playing Snakes and Ladders, with Bablu, as usual, watching with interest and Bhulo curled up on the divan basking under the sun rays coming through the window. Suddenly the three children realized that Bhulo was not in the room. Sensing trouble the three rushed out of the room and searched the garden, but to their dismay Bhulo was nowhere in the house or around it . Three of them ran to every house in the neighbourhood, knocking them out of their afternoon siesta and asked about Bhulo. Every one expressed shock and a good many of them advised to keep Bhulo under chain. Some one said he had seen a corporation pick up van clearing the street of stray dogs. As they never put collar on Bhulo, their heart sank and ran back home to the elders. Monima went to the nearby Corporation office and asked for the address of the dog squad , but came back disappointed, as Bhulo was not to be found there either. That  evening gloom descended on Pinky’s house, every body came asking for news of Bhulo, Pinky and Bablu refused to take dinner, and went to bed crying and their hearts broken.


Unknown to them Bhulo was chained and gagged by the big fat bully son of the Roy’s. The Roys had a pussycat and it had given birth to three cute kittens recently. Bhulo was not at all friendly with pussycat and always went after her whenever he found the opportunity, much to the ire of the big fat bully son of the Roy’s. Now though Bhulo was not friendly with the pussycat, having a kind heart, the dog became friendly with the kittens and would often play with them, unnoticed by the two families. The mother cat, sensing affection in her foe, allowed him to play with her little ones. Today also when every body was busy playing and watching snakes and ladders, Bhulo”s sharp ears could catch the playful noises made the kittens on the other side of the building. He came out and sniffed and stood watching affectionately his tail wagging, the kittens playing with a ball of yellow wool. The big fat bully son of the Roys noticed him from his bedroom window and quietly came out with a biscuit laced with sedative. Unsuspecting Bhulo took it gratefully and soon fainted on the ground. Roy’s son put a collar on him  and dragged him to the back of  their  garden. He taped his mount with a big piece of cloth and chained him to a tree and came back to his room satisfied. That day went by with poor Bhulo shivering and hungry and scared, suffering silently, as his senses came back. The three children, their family and everybody in the neighbourhood were extremely unhappy and prayed for the safety of good old Bhulo. Next morning when the three kittens were playing outside, they chanced back to the garden and found Bhulo lying silently. They were too young too understand why Bhulo was silent and lying down. So they came near and started to paw him to wake him up. They looked at his eyes and found drops of water falling. Some how or other these tiny creatures realized their dear friend was in trouble and suffering. They crawled up one by one and tried to tear the cloth that tied their friend’s mouth. Their soft noises attracted pussycat to the scene and she joined in their Endeavour to free their friend It was a heavy task for so tiny kittens and their mother, but God must have helped them in their effort and soon Bhulo was able to bark, and he let out a deep distress call, howling with all his might. His howling came as music to the neighbourhood, the tree children, their family members and all present in the neighbourhood came running and found a heavenly picture. Bhulo was chained to a tree and the three small kittens caressing him lovingly with their mother standing in guard.

Pinky rushed towards Bhulo and loosened the chain giving some relief. The crowd howled together for the culprit. Mr and Mrs Roy came out and was surprised to find a huge crowed in side their compound and  called for the darwan. The gatekeeper who was aghast to find out the dirty work of the big fat bully son of his master had let the people come inside and he narrated the incident to them. The parents now felt ashamed too and called out to their son – “Rohan, immediately come outside”. The bad boy was hiding inside but had to come out hanging his head in fear.

Pinky’s Didu was the first to speak  “look here boy, you are a human being, but you acted like a mean and cruel beast and put this poor dog to so much torture for your vain pleasure. And these little kittens and their mother are considered as God’s lesser creation; still they have a much larger heart than you. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

Monima said “ How could you be so mean, being such a young child”.

The neighbours said “ you should be punished for what you have done”

When Mr Roy started to scold his son, the Tukai’s uncle  stopped him and told him that

“ Look here Mr Roy, as parents it is your duty to rare your son as a good citizen, a kind and noble hearted person”. You two are always busy with your work and socialization and do not even spend a day with your only son. You do not how he spends his time all by himself during the holidays and  do not even allow your only son to be friendly with any child of the neighbourhood. What do you think your son would do the whole day after school and on holidays, naturally he would do all sorts of mischief as he feels lonely and left out. Our children did not even know what your son’s name is until now  and they call him in unflattering names. You should teach him what is wrong and what is right. If you let him keep a cat, teach him how to take care of animals, tell him that it is essential to be kind to animals.” For everybody knew that even the pussycat stayed in their compound, the boy, instead of being kind to her, always played dirty tricks on her.

When everybody was talking, personnel from the local PS arrived and charged the Roy’s for cruelty to animals, which is  punishable by law. The Roys apologized profusely and promised to keep an eye on his son’s movements and also that no such incident would happen in future. The policeman called Rohan out and said if he made thirty sit ups holding his ears before everybody, he would let him go this time only; otherwise he would take him to the local police station. Rohan was really scared and Rohan came down timidly, held his ears and made thirty sit-ups to everybody’s satisfaction.

From that day on Rohan also became a member of the gang of three, as they were affectionately called  and that day was always celebrated as a day of Feline Kindness and all cats and dogs of the locality were treated to a grand feast of milk, fish, biscuits .



Wednesday, August 31, 2011

What is Love

What is love if it does not give you pain,
What is love if it does not make you cry,
The more I love , I miss you more,
And feel incomplete,
Separated and left alone,
I want so much to be one with you
To be inside and not without,
Like the morning sun and its golden glow,
The silver of the moon,
The depth of the see,
And green of the meadow,
The crescendo where pain
Melts in to pleasure,
I want you here in my soul,
A burning desire for
Its own fulfillment,
A happy tune
Melting into sadness,
What is love if it Doesn’t take you
To the clouds in ecstasy ,
Make your heart stop
Once or twice,
Or goad you to fly into the sky,
What is love if it does not make you cry .

Monday, August 29, 2011

THANK YOU ALL

I have always pondered over the question - why did I start writing, and always the first answer that came to mind is to be heard and to be read. I write for myself and my readers and not for the critique, for I am not at all sure of myself and my writing ability. The readers may take me or leave me, and if they take me, read and interact, I feel content, I feel happy and I feel worthy. I believe most writers feel an urge to express themselves to the world, to find sympathizer and audience in like minded people. Many, not all though, writers are introspective, loners and shy to speak of their emotions. Long suffering hearts pour out in many cases in small black words, letters and sentences and the load lessens somewhat.

I remember in my early days I took up the pen but put it down, when my near and dear ones, smiled indulgently or patronizingly, and even with a ridicule intended but suppressed by their better sense. But again I took up the pen and thought I should try to be less expressive, more polished and improve upon my tool, the knowledge of the lingo. I hope to have achieved some what to that direction and I thank all my readers for that, for giving me strength, for listening, for not slighting my lack of linguistic excellence. Except , of course, the man who loved and married me.
THANK YOU ALL FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART

Saturday, August 27, 2011

Monkey's Paw

Like an old wise monkey you
Have taken your seat on top,
And we , the Lilliputians,
Sit at your feet licking our lips,
May be some of your enemies
Get tired and offer you, sugar,
Banana and milk,
Which , you , being the large
Heart that you are
May pour down our throats.
We are hungry but we are
Petty thieves, we snatch
Only in the sly , but you have
Taken the sky in your
Paw and they day
Of retirement, may
Give your Great Paw
To any of us, your die hard followers.
But I am becoming wise too
In degrees ;
And I beg of you, Oh Wise Old One ;
Please do not take me wrong ,
I know how disastrous it is
To ask for three favours-
From the Monkey’s Paw !

Friday, August 26, 2011

MY COMPUTER

While the whole of India is alive on the topic –CORRUPTION- I thought I would put a few humble observations too.

It is true we, the ordinary people, are all corrupt some how or other and we go on exploiting others to our advantage. I speak big but always employ maids at Bengal market rate , which is too minimal. I know that our society is full of poor and deprived people and I can easily get one at minimum wage and treat her to my advantage. We generally refuse to think rationally in this regard. Unless the poor people are aware of their rights and claim for it, we do not give them their due. Well this is the least that I would like to criticize myself for we tend to justify our every move.

For sometime now I am terribly put off by the computer people or the persons who come to tend to my PC. I know very little about hardware and software and get worried if any how my pc malfunctions. When I bought the HP product in 2007 I was high on air, and had nothing to worry as it was on warranty and only the company engineers used to rectify any problem. Once the warranty expired and by then I too retired from my job, I was between the devil and the deep sea. i searched and found out a local company ‘amal computers’. Who would come and tend to my pc from time to time. On one occasion the gentleman pointed out that one of my Rams were not compatible with my pc and so the pc was going black and he took it out and said he would replace it after repairment and he never gave it back. After a lot of futile telephonic requests I went for another named ‘papin solutions’(2011) and this gentleman said the pc needs to be formatted, and we found that the original XP cd was missing from the box where I keep all the accessories that the shop gave me with the PC and the it was ‘amal computers’ to whom I gave access to this box on an earlier occasions. there was nothing I could do, so I allowed papin solutions to format my PC and after formatting I find my HP deskjet 1400 printer is not being recognized by the computer, although the software had been reloaded. I called ‘papin’ and he said either I let him format for a second time or try to remove Win 32 virus which has corrupted the printer software.

Now these are all ordinary people like me, likable , more or less honest and leading simple life, still they exploited me, as they knew I am incapable of keeping my PC in order in troubled times. They do not think twice before fleecing me in the name of their expertise.

How do we cure us of the evil which has gone into the very bone of our society, I wonder

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

literaryindia-YOUR ACCOUNT IS HACKED

GOOGLE SEARCH-literaryindia-YOUR ACCOUNT IS HACKED

New Format of LiteraryIndia.com - India Literary Portal Hacked By ...
Welcome to the new Literaryindia.com. The new edition of the site has a totally new more dynamic format. The site will be offering a ...

literario.com/.../Literary-India/222-%20India%20Literary%20Portal%20format.html - Cached

Monday, July 4, 2011

literario.com

Address of the hackers are literario.com

Sunday, July 3, 2011

ACCOUNT HACKED

I found from google search engine that my articles at literaryindia.com had been hacked

Account Articles Hacked By Bl4ckm4gicx
7 Mar 2011 – Santwana Chatterjee | Short Story | Mar 16, 2007 | 9 Views | Read Full. Four people were sitting

All my blog entries visible in the net under the hacked account. Can you help ?

Thursday, June 23, 2011

BLACK AND WHITE--take a flight with colours





In the year 1970 I got married to my boyfriend in November and that year I joined the Calcutta University to get my Masters Degree in Mental and Moral Philosophy. The years ended and the last year of my university days emerged. I was both happy and sad as I was going to leave my friends, as most of them were going for further studies and I was denied permission. We were five of a group that have graduated from the same college i.e. Lady Brabourne College, Kolkata. We decided we would take a picture together and frame it and every year wherever we might be on that very date, November, 29th, we would try to meet or try to connect with each other.


So many decades have passed since then; the picture in black and white still stands on my mantelpiece, projecting five young souls looking deep into the eyes of the onlooker. I still remember I wore a cotton shawl over me, as was running a mild fever. The shawl was dark purple with light cotton embroidery on the borders and all over. The sari was my favourite, light mauve cotton with darker borders, mauve being my favourite colour. Rita sitting in the middle was wearing a cotton boutique sari, she was very fair and the bright Orange colour of her saree with dark chocolate prints suited her. The frame of her glasses was also new at that time, being light golden brown. Anurupa or Panna, sitting on her left wore a cotton print, light pink with blue flowers all over. Behind us stood Kaberi in a yellow cotton and Sumitra in a green silk sari. I was the only one married but I did not put on any bindi but Anurupa, Sumitra and Kaberi did.

I am so attached to the picture; It kind of floats before my eyes. I don’t know where my friends are now but I hope they are happy and doing well. I wish some day some one will hear me and colour the picture with the details that I have put in here and that would make my dream come true, it would bring the past to my present filling my heart with joy unlimited.

Are you there sir at (http://www.hp.com/in/laserjet) , then I suppose you can definitely help turn my black and white wish to take wings and take a flight with colours

Monday, February 14, 2011

“A perspective on roles of Indian Women”.

“A perspective on roles of Indian Women”.

I have always been proud to be a woman from my birth and never really thought that I had a different role to play in this world rather than my brothers. But as time passed and I saw and felt how different were the treatment meted out by the world in general to me in relation to my brothers that I started believing that I was something different from my brothers. I knew girls become mothers and boys, father but both the roles, appeared to my young mind, more or less similar . I have seen many fathers to be more affectionate and attached to their children and attentive to their needs and mothers, who were more detached and more socialite than motherly. And of course the other way round too. I think parents, whether mother or father, both should share childcare equally, seriously, so as to make this world a better place to live, with happy children growing up to be good human beings , the future of a society. In the work place also, according to me, a male and a female employee have absolutely no different contributions to make. They can both contribute and be treated at par in any part of a job. Of course, nature created men, stronger physically but, there is no doubt in mind that women are much stronger mentally and can put up with a lot more pain with ease. So men and women, like nature, balance each other.
To me the role that a woman should take upon herself, is the role to lift the weaker section of the people in this world. It is common knowledge that in most societies, especially in the third world countries, physical power takes over to control and dominate the weak, the womenfolk, to be precise. I have always been condemned as outspoken, querulous, quick to reply back , which are considered to be unwomanly qualities, and would always protest, whether in school, against a partial and callous teacher, or against the offending men in a public place or in office alike. And I have realized that unless we stand for our right no one is going to hand it over on a platter to us.
I consider myself lucky to be born in an educated and enlightened family and would considere it my sacred duty , if given a chance, to fight for those downtrodden women , who have no one to protect, no one to listen to, no one to educate and no one to sympathize. In our society, the lower the cast, the poorer the family, the less fortunate are the women folk. The female child are aborted even in their foetus and they are luckier than those who are given birth to and left on the road to die. Still more pathetic are the lives of the girls who grow up, without education and proper nourishment, just to tend to the men folk in the family and latter in life sold to the brothel for a pittance or given in marriage to work like a slave for the rest of their lives. Girls are condemned for giving birth to girl child, while it is common knowledge that the gender of the child is determined by the father’s sperm count. Drunken husbands bit and ill-treat their wives with impunity, and the thought make my blood boil. For me the ideal role of a woman would be a saviour for her less fortunate counterparts in the society. No one knows better the woes and pains of a woman than a woman herself. Women are generally made of softer material and they have a natural way of consoling and empathizing with people. It may not be out of place to mention that my idols in life are Mother Teresa and Rani Lakhsmibai, the queen of Jhansi. And the ideal role of a woman, to my mind, should be a mixture of these two wonderful ladies .