WOMEN AND THEIR EVERYDAY CHALLENGES

CHALLENGES FACED BY YOUNG WOMEN

Women are home-makers. Women are the weaker sex. Women must adhere to certain rules and regulations, even if they are earning. Rules often set by men. The Shriver report of 2014 states 18 issues challenging women in the US. Wonder whether that number has gone up or down. Yes there are plenty of challenges faced by young women in today's world. Though a majority of them are external, some are often internal. The basic mentality of men and women needs a change. The stereotype characterization of the sexes need to be reshuffled.

Discrimination is an awful word and it rules the roost on challenges faced by young women. At home the son is given preference over the daughter. At the workplace, it is verbal and physical sexual abuse; and the gender wage gap is still prevalent in the most powerful country in the world, leave alone the rest of the other countries. Young women go through horrific domestic violence that shatters all their romantic dreams. Break the marriage and it is often the woman who is blamed and targeted, irrespective of the actual cause. Social gatherings can be a nightmare for women if they are not escorted with the right type of guy. Bar hopping is okay for men but can be read as an invitation for rape if women do the same. Many countries have religious gatherings with distinctly marked seating arrangements for men and women.

And yet there are millions of families – across all sectors of the society where a woman is the main breadwinner. Most of the time she is willing to take a back seat and let her husband be in the limelight! In the name of social security a young woman forsakes her ambitions and toes the line so that her dignity is not outraged. Who are the perpetrators? The men! The question is who made the men like that? The society, people who live in the society – that includes men and women.

The importance of a woman's independent opinion is so blatantly obvious during political elections – all over the world. A woman is her own boss inside that small voting cubicle. She presses the button she wants to and not what a male friend or relative asked her to! This is freedom and this is what a woman needs to inculcate inside her every moment of her life at every stage and every situation.

I just read somewhere that “women earn less than men but have more expenses.” Honestly it is hilarious but true only in certain social strata of each country. Th so-called empowerment of women has increased the number of women going out to work and the young delve into consumerism wholeheartedly, as if there is no tomorrow. Blame the ads and media, who know how to lure the young earning females.

Men and women were never meant to be enemies- they are two sides of the same coin made by the great source known as God.

Today I am sharing a letter written by my cousin, Dipankar Deb, to his elder brother. He has been a seaman all his life and the letter tells about some of his scary and hilarious experiences. I shared his recent article in my G+ page. 

At Manila, 26^th July 2011

Hi Ramu/Dada,

Truth be told, I rather enjoyed my sojourn at sea.

As you will recall, I was the first person in my batch to clear the 2^nd Engineer Exam, and amongst the few early birds with my Chief Engineer License Exam in Yr ’73.

I then joined Wallem Hong Kong and was promoted to C/Eng after a year, and sent on a crude oil tanker.

As I had never worked on a tanker before (these were the days before IG Systems, and all the other safe-guards that were ushered in after a couple of horrendous accidents), the Indian Chief Officer took me around (at that time the norm was for Officers to be mostly from India, with crew from the Philippines).

On entering the Cargo Pumproom, I looked down and found a vast pool of oil with nothing else visible. On pointing this out to the C/O he was totally shocked to view a sea of oil where there should have been a pump room with steam pumps.

We spent the next few days groping around in the oil to find and activate the remote control rods for the submerged steam pumps, and then pumping out (back to the oil tank) without further unpleasant surprises.

There were many such close shaves and even life-threatening incidents along the way, such as a head-on collision at full speed with another vessel, an immediate burst into flame of both vessels (being tankers), my going down to stop the engines prior abandoning the vessel, my returning on deck to find both lifeboats already lowered and well away (even though I had told the Bengali 2^nd Engineer and Kannadiga Master to hold one boat for me), all crew members off except the Indian C/O and one Indonesian Oiler (who had helped me to stop the engines).

We could not escape in the inflatable life rafts as we were now surrounded by burning oil escaping from the vessel. So the three of us had no option but to fight the fire with whatever make-shift methods we could devise. We managed to keep the flames from engulfing the aft of the vessel and were literally saved by a passing tug boat.

The tug boat had no fire fighting foam, and mentioned that they would get some from the nearby Indonesian town of Plaju. Being aware of the possibility of them going to sleep prior returning (all of this taking place in the middle of the night), we broke open the Bonded Locker and placed all the bonded alcohol and cigarettes on the Bridge wing as their prize if they could hurry up.

They sure did hurry up and sprayed the vessel with foam till at around 7.30am (about 10 hours since the collision) the fire was put out, and our champion crew sheepishly returned to the vessel, which was still afloat, but with the forecastle missing, the front cargo tank badly damaged, and the crude oil in that tank totally burnt off or leaked into the sea.

Anecdote – It appears that the Owner (Bruce Rappaport) angrily exclaimed to the attending senior management in Singapore “what kind of ship staff do you employ? Don’t they know that I could have made more money from Insurance if the vessel was a total loss?”

So much for the value of heroics, though we were given bonuses, and I was made a Supt based in Singapore. That episode was short-lived as in the Year 1978, Singapore was one of the most boring (and slightly troublesome) places to live, hence I opted to return to sailing after a few months. More on Singapore later.

I must also not forget to tell you about my good friend Saddam of Iraq (may he rest in peace), and how he literally saved my job.

We were on a big White Oil Tanker in Kuwait loading Kerosene, Aviation Fuel, High Speed Diesel etc segregated in separate tanks. We had just finished dinner and I was on the Bridge along with my good friend Capt Lund (a Norwegian), when the Indian C/O came running up in consternation, and told us that the Aviation Fuel tank had got contaminated with HSD. We ran down and found that the Aviation Fuel Cargo tank had acquired a sickening dark color, thus rendering the Aviation fuel useless. This would entail a loss of millions of dollars to the charterer, and he would take it out on the Owner, who (aside from having the Insurance Companies breathing down his neck) would demand the immediate banishment of the concerned incompetents (meaning Master, C/O and me), and possible sanctions such as review of our licenses etc – in other words, we were staring at a dramatic change of circumstances for yours truly.

In despair we returned to the Bridge to contemplate our resignation letters (to avoid the ignominy of being summarily sacked). Only God or Saddam could have helped us to get out of this horrible mess, and Saddam answered our prayers.

At around 9.30pm, we heard a loud explosion from the shore tank farm, followed by further explosions and fire streaking to the sky from the damaged tanks that had caught fire.

Saddam’s invasion of Kuwait had begun.

All other vessels were ordered to immediately cast off and sail, while we were kept alongside by the shore authorities in a desperate attempt to empty out the oil tanks adjacent to the burning tanks, to save as much as they could.

They then pumped all types of mixtures into our tanks and thus polluted the segregated fuels even more – and let us off the hook.

Since then, I have always harbored a soft corner for our dear benefactor Saddam, and was indeed distressed to see him being dispatched so ingloriously, just because cowboy George hated his guts, and cooked up all types of yellow powder and WMD tall tales to go to war with six-guns blazing, leading to the crowning moment of George framed against a backdrop of fighter jets on an aircraft carrier declaring ‘VICTORY’. Tom Cruz couldn’t have done it better, though they will pay for their mistakes for many years to come – but that is another story.

I must off course admit that the photo-op on the aircraft carrier sure looked good on TV, and, if you follow the comic books – well worth going to war for, give or take a few hundred thousand (mostly Iraqi) dead bodies (which could be passed off with a shrug and the timeless gringo comment “shit happens”).

The above is just an illustration of the rather exciting lifestyle that was still available to seamen a few decades ago. The present-day situation is changed beyond recognition, with strict rules and regulations, and the senior officers under personal threat of jail, and huge personal fines, by any country that deems that you have violated their arcane laws.

I managed to leave active sailing at a most opportune time (1994), when at the urging of Rajiv Dhanda (our 1 year junior from Bombay, and my boss in Singa Shipmanagement) I took up a Super’s job under him in Manila.

I was put in charge of a BOT (build, operate, transfer) scheme for a pair of Kvearner Fjellstrand all-aluminum 370-seater super-fast (34 knots or around 60 kph) luxury ferries (fitted with night vision) for the Philippine local trade. We built them at a shipyard in Singapore, brought them over to Cebu, operated them for a year, and then handed over the vessels to a local company that, within a year, ran it into the ground and sold off the vessels at a major loss.

Reason – vessel traveling with 200 passengers, but only 50 tickets issued (the rest giving underhand token payments directly to the staff). We had kept strict control of such activities with random firings at the slightest suspicion, but, under the locals, everybody was in on the game, from the Company President downwards (the President even appropriated some of the office computers and opened up a computer training institute). It was a hilarious fiasco to watch, and it was an object lesson of how ‘not’ to do business in the local environment.

I was then pirated (in Yr 1999) by a good Norwegian friend Alf Andersen to open up a ship management company.

I set it up from my house (including all Govt licenses/permits/clearances), and took over our first vessel in October ’99 while still operating with 3 staff (Secretary, Accountant and Supt) who would report to my house daily. We had a phone line that could also be used for faxes, and we had my personal computer – and that was it.

This feat can no longer be duplicated, as, due to the advent of ISM and other strict IMO policies, it is no longer possible (as of Yr 2001) to set up fly-by-night ship management companies from residences, post boxes etc.

We finally managed to get a proper office (near my house) by the end of the year, and due to the success of the first vessel, started getting more vessels (from the same Owner) for management.

Things went from bad to worse (for my life-style that is) as we ended up with 13 very specialized, fully computerized cement-handling vessels with environment-friendly self-discharging capability trading Worldwide (with an office staff of 24 and a sea-going staff of over 300).

In Yr 2007, we sold the company lock-stock-and-barrel to one of the biggest privately owned shipping companies in the World (KGJS of Bergen, Norway), for a huge sum, with the selling Owners making out handsomely (from an initial investment of less than 20% the sale price), and we were all retained full time by the new Owners as per the sale agreement, which stipulated that I and my staff would have to stay on for a minimum of one year.

This chapter finally closed end November last year, when the office was disbanded, and management transferred to Singapore and Bergen.

I was then tasked to close the office, including negotiating severance with the staff, and all Govt formalities. So I can quite proudly say that I attended the birth of the company, and its demise too. And now I lead the life of a country gentleman with golf, and girls, as the main attractions (though not necessarily in that order).

Is there anything I would have done differently given a second chance? I must emphatically say no.

It all worked out in the end, and, as we have come to realize, it is the end game that finally matters, it is the inner peace we attain that puts us at ease, it is the thought of a stress-free tomorrow that fills our lives with the scent of roses, and, finally, when we are ready to cross over, we can do so in the full knowledge that we truly lived well, as decent citizens, honorably, and without regret.

Jai Maharaj.

CANCER - CONTINUED

Ever since that d-day I have been searching for alternative treatments for this disease. Yes I am very much against radiation and chemotherapy for good reasons. When you search the net you find many cancer patients write about their chemo or radiation therapy and how it has adversely affected their lives. Last night when I spoke to Mataji she too told me that someone related to her ashram swamiji's had cancer and was going through chemo; and this lady had said that no one should undergo chemo. 
Now this city has no unit for radiation therapy or chemotherapy; one of the doctors from here said -'the license for radiation therapy is not easily given to any hospital, for the simple reason - radiation of the rays.' The safety of the surrounding areas is taken into consideration before the license is given. If that is the case, how is it considered safe for the cancer patient? Now they have a new term - targeted radiation and chemo. Obviously the cost is higher and it is believed to be targeted only on the affected area, so the rays do not (optimistically) touch the surrounding areas inside the patient's body. Why was this not the main thought initially?  
My search for alternative treatment gave me a lot of information and knowledge about this disease. 
http://candida-international.blogspot.in/2007/03/is-cancer-caused-by-candida-fungus.html - I found this site very informative and had sound arguments.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fQwwGPiyW9M - this is on youtube, by Rick Simpson.

18/2/2018
I have been curious to know how did I get cervical cancer? Was there something I may have done to contribute towards its manifestation? My search on the net provided me with some answers. HPV (Human Papillomaviruses) comes out as the main cause for cervical cancer in women. 
https://www.cancer.org/cancer/cervical-cancer/causes-risks-prevention/what-causes.html
The above site says - Some genes control when cells grow, divide, and die:· 

• Genes that help cells grow, divide, and stay alive are called oncogenes.
• Genes that help keep cell growth under control or make cells die at the right time are called tumor suppressor genes.

Cancers can be caused by DNA mutations (gene defects) that turn on oncogenes or turn off tumor suppressor genes.

But HPV is not the only cause of cervical cancer.

another site says -

• Causes and risk factors for cervical cancer include human papillomavirus (HPV) infection, having many sexual partners, smoking, taking birth control pills, and engaging in early sexual contact.
• All women are at risk for cervical cancer. ... The human papillomavirus (HPV) is the main cause of cervical cancer. HPV is a common virus that is passed from one person to another during sex. Most sexually active people will have HPV at some point in their lives, but few women will get cervical cancer

Then I read that women with moles or warts, passed down in the genes are also at risk. I have a couple of red moles, my mum had, so did my maternal grandmother, a couple of aunts; but none of them developed cancer. I did. Why? Change of food habits? Lifestyle change? Or is it in the air? Still to unravel.  Yoga I am doing to fight this disease are - pavanamuktasana, bhujangasana, butterfly (tried boddhokonasana but just did not get the pose right, not anymore, not like before), halasana, matsyasana (not perfect), and savasana with deep breathing. Today I started mahamudra with jalandhara bandh and mula bandh. My blood pressure is normal, no sugar or diabetes, my heart is okay, my pulse rate is normal,so is my palpitation -something new I found they check. mahamudra with all these bandhs is not advisable for anyone with blood pressure problems or heart problems. period. I shall eventually know the result of these experiments very soon. I also have - two teaspoons of roasted flax seeds (found that at Patanjali store) in a day, hot water with one lemon juice before breakfast, stopped sugar completely, two caps of cow urine with equal amount of hot water twice a day, baking soda (soda bicarbonate) with honey (not regularly), apricot and its seed, grapes, nuts, oranges. And I have two raw garlic pods at lunch time with my first two morsels of food.     
I am keeping a diary. Don't know if it will benefit anyone with same problem.  My osteoarthritis and osteoporosis are intact. So is my thyroid and my spondylitis. I take on daily basis - thyronorm (75mcg), bio-d3 plus and sometimes hyfenac (plain) on days when I know I may have to be on my feet for a long duration.     
I hope to add more cheerful notes to this blog in the coming days. 

MY JOURNEY WITH CERVICAL CANCER AND ITS RAMIFICATIONS

Cancer! It is a terrifying word. It literally puts everyone in a frenzy. Death is knocking at the door. It is so insane! As if, if you did not get cancer you would live forever. Can you believe it!!!? Hehehe! Death is inevitable. This is something we learned in our Moral Science class and different scriptures confirmed it as we grew older. So why does the word 'cancer' create a havoc among people? May be, because it practically ushers us to the exit door? One way or the other, we all must get out of this beautiful and enchanting world. Period. 
29th of january the report came in. Before that the lab people called up my son-in-law and gave him the results of the biopsy test. he called my daughter and told her and she in turn told me. Her face became crestfalllen in a second! My son-in-law stopped playing music in the car from that day on, so every time I went to the different doctors and hospitals it became a silent ride. Long ones. Honestly. Because we travelled for hours to Gurgaon or Delhi - mind the traffic. What goes wrong with us? Do we stop living? Hello! I am still here - I shout inside me. I am not dead and neither have I lost the urge and zing to live. I am kicking. I shall beat this silent disease. I am prepared. But yes when I see the children upset and worried it does pull a few heart-strings. It becomes a flurry of activities - visiting different doctors, going for numerous tests, waiting for the test reports, going to the same doctor, and then visiting oncologists and radiologists. Whew! It is quite an ordeal. Specially, if all the facilities are not available in the same city or region. Every time I came out of a test or a visit only one thing stood out in my mind - f--- all this. Live and die normally. Either way I shall have to depart, so why do it in a painful way? Radio therapy or chemotherapy are killers. Believe me you. Oncologists are like hawks, waiting for any susceptible patient. They simply clutch you in their claws and brainwash you into believing that there is no way out except what they advise. It becomes worse when your family members are much junior to you (read 'children') who have no clue about such things. their only belief is the doctor - someone with an impressive string of degrees behind their names backed up with impressive hospitals, cannot be wrong. Finally I got tired of arguing and just gave in. Told them - fine I shall do as you say. Only write down that when the time comes to literally care for me who is ready? Besides, the money involved for such hideous therapies is astronomical. my and my daughter's corporate insurance may not be able to cover the whole cost. My younger son-in-law has his answer ready - 'you just go for your treatment, I shall do the needful.' Beautiful! I am really thankful that I have such loving and caring children (including sons-in-law). Should I now let them blindly follow the negative path or should I stand firm? I decided to follow my gurji's teachings - 'do not object to controversial situations because it can only aggravate further. keep silent and give yourself up to God. Let God guide them and show them the right path.'  It works miracles. Situations and conditions arise where the opposite party sees reason. Cheers! 
MRI and Ct scan of the various needed parts of the body. I literally got scared when I was being pushed or rolled into the MRI machine. I yelled out. The operator had to stop and come running to me. There I was lying like a helpless creature all tucked in and belted in and screaming - I am scared. Can you believe it? Like a child! That fellow had to assure me before he could go back to his room and start the process. He must have been laughing at this 65 year-old scared woman. I gathered courage, felt silly and told myself I will not be scared of that capsule where I can see the top about to engulf me and smother me to death. It is about six inches above the head I guess and I detest enclosed spaces. I thought - what happened to my pranayams and meditations? And then I thought of Krishna and soon he was there playing the flute and dancing around, laughing away in joy. Time passed and before I knew it the scan was over. I came out and asked my son-in-law, who was sitting outside, tensed, how long? He said just about an hour. In that period, I was even asked to hold my breath for a certain period of time - I did and yet I was not scared any more.      Next the CT scan. Then my quiet and desperate search for alternative methods, my belief in yoga and self healing. And light channeling. I am still not out of the woods. The radiotherapy and chemo are still hanging above my head, like the damocles' sword. And much more. My surrender to God. Tomorrow.     

REWARI - Its British Railway Colony

With my two grand daughters.

Found this book at the railway cafeteria. Gandhi's sojourn with railways in India and Africa. Interesting read. 

I had no idea that there was a place called Rewari on the Indian map prior to 2007. It is the year when Kuki - my younger daughter - found her husband to be, who was from Rewari, Haryana. My children and I knew Gurgaon because our offices were there; but Rewari - what on earth was that!? My first visit to this city left a lot to be desired and suffice it to say, I was pretty disappointed with my daughter's choice. 

Anyway that was years ago. I am again here from November 25th and today went out for the first time after my illness. People who know me did not expect me to survive dengue and the continuous bleeding - but surprise! I did. So off we went to see this railway colony my son-in-law has been talking about. He said it used to be a British colony and their bungalows were still around. British? In Rewari? That was my first reaction. 

But I was quite surprised to see that it had been a very well-laid out township or colony. The road to it is pretty dreary, but then that is now. Am sure it must have been clean and well-kept in the past. The bungalows are still there - occupied by local railway employees, who unfortunately do not occupy the huge bungalows with the respect they deserve. The less said the better. I found a Church North India graveyard and a Catholic Church, too! And quite close an ancient Shiv Mandir and Peer Dargah. All these within the English colony of the railways in the past. A school to boot and an army outlet and a medical facility. 

Honestly, I do not remember reading anywhere in my history lessons about Rewari or its importance as a railway headquarters. I have read about Chittaranjan etc.     

I wonder why Rewari has been more or less obliterated from railway history lessons. 

Many Hindi films have shot scenes in this place and city! I even saw the exact location of the heroine (Sonam Kapoor) bringing a pitcher of water in the film - Bhag Milkha Bhag. 

Inside the cafeteria where you get some mementos. Met Subbaram, who looks after the outlet. He is ex-army and ex-Indian Railways. Got some stuff from here.

Beautiful open area.

A plaque outside the engine.

Do not miss the registration - 2151 YP.

The 1855 famous locomotive - Fairy Queen being given a paint job and beautification overhaul before it starts to run between Delhi Cantonment and Rewari on second saturdays very soon.

My grand daughters and son-in-law kindly giving me a pose in front of Fairy queen.

could not resist this one among so many of these logo photos of the different Indian states. I am a Bengali. Hehehe!

A photo of the Darjeeling loop from the past. wonder if there
 has been any change in the route ever since. 

My grand daughter, Munni wanted to take a snap with these two Japanese visitors. They took two and I took some. Munni is learning Japanese language in her school! 

The Gol-ghar. The Britishers idea of a place to relax in the tropical evenings, have cocktails and discuss matters. And ofcourse, socialise. I recognised it because I had seen these in the Tiger Tops resorts when I worked with them.  

A Catholic Church right behind the Heritage Museum. No one around except this canine behind locked gates. I made friends with him right from start. Little did I know it would give me a safe chance to retrieve my mobile pieces when it fell on the other side of the gate. hahaha!

A group of Haryana ladies singing Ram-Sita songs outside the museum as we came out at 4 p.m. They were sporting enough and obliged.

GYANENDRA CHANDRA DEB - MY FATHER

My father, Gyanendra Chandra Deb, passed away on the 22nd of July, 1993. My mother had already passed away on the 5th of May 1992. 
Baba was absolutely and completely dedicated to his mother. 

Beautiful even at this advanced stage, isn't she? She had been a widow from a very early age because my grandfather, Rai Saheb Ishan Chandra Deva, had passed away at a young age.

Thakurda worked with the Geological Survey of India. he had friends like the Maharani of Coochbehar, Prithviraj Kapoor, Nawabs etc. After reading many autobiographies now I have realised these were quite common with educated class of India in those days. where and how he became spiritual is still a mystery. But I know for sure that both the Brahmin families (grandfather's and grandmother's, she came from a Mukherjee family) had become Brahmos. Why is another story. Today it is about my dad, my Baba. 
I read Baba's diary written from 1929 to 1939 and found various aspects of a human being. I got to know that my Baba had been in love! Awesome! At the age of 24 - wow! anyway he was disappointed and that probably set his path for the future. 
Baba studied at the D.A.V. school in Dehradun. he never had a teacher who could speak english correctly and yet how did Baba speak and write such excellent English? Honestly Baba did not know how to read or write Bengali - something we children were never made to be aware of. Somehow Ma would cover it up and read whatever was written in Bengali - a letter or paper or whatever. Baba would pretend he did not have his glasses and Ma then would read it out without a comment.  

NOSTALGIC MOMENTS

OM MANI PADME HUM - I heard this mantra while working in Ladakh in 1989. At the resort we had a tailor-on-the-site named Paljor, who used to say this mantra quite often. He taught me that they say this mantra while touching the legs, belly, chest and head to give it the full respect. Now I understand the mantra reminds us that God resides in all of us, all over the physical body. The body is like the lotus, blooming in the muddy water without being affected by its surroundings. Our body is a lotus which should be completely untouched by our surroundings. Any and every onslaught must slide off us without making a dent in our minds or hearts. Stay pure and untouched in our worldly lives; bloom as God wants us to and stay concentrated on our maker. Work, live, love but without any attachments; just do your worldly duties with sincerity. No better way to love God and Paljor knew much before my educated self could know or understand.

WOMEN'S DAY
The first time I became aware of International Women's Day was when I was working for the Polish Consulate in Calcutta in 82-83. I was the Receptionist-cum-special secretary for the Consul General Mr. Jan Folta. Naturally the job involved some confidential activities, cannot be disclosed. On the 8th of March morning as I was just settling down, in walks Mr.Folta with a bunch of flowers. Giving me the flowers he says - "Happy Women's Day!" I shall never forget that day. Honestly I had no idea about such a day. I was thrilled that this senior (in age and position) should care to wish me so lovingly. Mrs. Folta was another superb lady. She arranged the whole library in the consulate, was very much into books. And she was a very motherly person. Yes the day was quite a celebration at the consulate office - no doubt.
Now I wonder are we not women on the rest of other days? Are we not teachers except on Teacher's Day? Not mothers or fathers except on the day of celebration? Of course, we are! I guess these special days remind everyone that such personalities are around you and make your life more special. Be aware! Remember and felicitate them everyday of your life. After all, can we do without father, mother, teacher and woman in this world? No. So celebrate everyday and know all of us together make a whole team. That team wins always. Cheers! Love you.

The following I had written and posted on facebook in 2013. Just copying it to my personal blog.

 25 Baishakh is not very far away and I just felt like sharing some memories. Please bear with me. Thank you.

Earliest memories

I remember dressing up as a South Indian lass in ghagra borrowed from my classmate, Vidya, who lived above us at 10 Lake Avenue, Calcutta - 26. This was sometime when I was 4 or 5 years old. We were studying in St. Mary’s Carmel School, which has been renamed Carmel High School.

I remember a water truck cruising our road early in the morning, while a man went around washing the street with the help of a long hose pipe. I remember the gas-man coming every evening and early morning with his bamboo ladder – evenings he would climb up the ladder pressed against each lamp-post and light the street lights. His morning round was to extinguish the gas lamps scaling the same ladder.

I remember our first phone number was 46-5149; then it was 42-1719 and the last one was 464-6618.

I remember every year on dada’s birthday Baba got the British High Commission crew to set up a giant screen at home and show the latest English movies suitable for kids. My birthday brought the magic show crew. I distinctly remember in one of these shows the magician took Chhunu mashi's ring and took it out from one of the many oranges in the fruit basket. Amazing!

I remember visiting my mother in the hospital when my younger sister was born – I was 7 and dada was 8 years old then, respectively. We played truant pulling at the raw baby skin on Buri’s body and wondered why it was like this, when sure enough a nurse spied us and reprimanded us duly. We indulged in this innocent action while our parents were busy talking to each other. Naughty!

I remember when dada learnt the word ‘bloody bastard’ from his school friends at St. Xavier’s and called me the same during a fight. Buri by that time was able to utter baby words and make sounds and the little one picked up this word smoothly. Best part us when she kept on repeating ‘buddy basket’ while Baba came back from office. Obviously he was curious to know what new word his little baby had learnt for the day and Ma said she could not pronounce it but may be he should ask dada. And of course, there was hell to pay as the story unfolded, okay?

I remember receiving birthday card from Baba, who was in England at that time on my 8th birthday. It had a little girl standing among different farm animals like, chicken, pink pigs, mooing cows etc and saying “I am eight” within the figure “8”. I had treasured it for years and then lost it on the way growing up.
 I remember Santosh Sengupta, George Biswas, and some other popular Rabindra Sangeet singers coming over to our house some evenings with a harmonium. Hours of joyous Rabindra Sangeet singing would follow; my parents would join in at times. I also remember Minu Pishi and Baby Pishi and Tutu Pishi and Tara Pishi joining the singing group quite often. I loved it when Minu Pishi sang the song “Padaprante rakho sheboke” – there was something ethereal about her voice. Of course, I understood the particular quality when I grew up. Years later Baba brought home an organ and said “This is for you, Tutu. You must practice to play it and sing too.” I hardly did either as I was always aware of my tuneless voice – but Ma made up for it. She would sit at the organ every evening at six and sing and play for at least an hour. Yes with Baba, Haren Jethu, dada and me standing or sitting behind her and giving her company. Brahmo samaj culture!

Talking about Brahmo samaj, I know we never had any altar or puja room in our home, as is usual in most Indian homes. However, I have yet to come across more noble, moral, ethical, honest, truthful, harmless, disciplined and God-loving individuals like my parents. In my 60 years of living on this earth I have traveled far and wide in India, interacted with innumerable people – both young and old, been to temples and churches and gurudwaras and met some highly religious people. This is not meant to offend anyone, yet I must say none of them can hold a candle to my parents. Period.

P.S.
I wonder whether all 60-year olds go through such nostalgic experiences or is it only me?

The following is a recent facebook post. The centre was named Doyen India Academy and it operated under the NACA (National Association of Civil Aviation) guidelines. I had even designed the logo fro the academy - an earthen lamp with "dia" written across. Somehow it was not approved by the concerned authorities in Aligarh. Nazeem Ali, from Bulundshahar, was its owner. He was a young man who had great visions and dreamed of a progressive society. Wonder where he has reached today. Wish him all the best in life.
I remember end of 2007 and first half of 2008 I was looking after a aviation training centre in Aligarh. Yes I was also training the students. Most of them were from agricultural backgrounds and their fathers/brothers had sold land to pay for the fees. Because they were convinced by the big dream of flying. I used to give them tips of how to master a language and what to listen to on the TV and radio to enhance their skills, but at the same time I insisted on being real and face reality. I am thankful to God that most of my students are doing very well in life today. I am also thrilled by the news that electricity will be provided for nothing less than 18 hours to some rural areas. I know how some of you suffered and could not be in touch with the world because if your area was not favouring Mayawati it was doomed. Darkness was your companion throughout from evening to morning. Neerja Gaur, Faraz Zakir, Praveen, Rakshi Fatima and all of you there love you dear children. You make me feel so happy that you all are doing good. God bless you all.