A journey of just about 25 years with George Shalom

George Shalom said a swift bye-bye on 25th January 2010 at his place of work. The doctor said he died of heart attack but did not know a thing. He just slipped away, painlessly. This was in Jamta village, Himachal Pradesh, where both of us had more or less settled to pass the rest of our lives. Seven years down the line I am still passing my life, sometimes in Delhi, sometimes in Calcutta. 7th April 2010 would have been 25 years of married life with him. We got married in 1985 on that date. It was sunday in Calcutta and before presenting ourselves before the marriage registrar, George thought why not go to the church and get blessings.. We landed up at St.Paul's Cathedral and George said - no. This is a protestant church, We need to go to a Catholic church. I am a catholic. In the rush and excitement I totally forgot about my school church _ St.Marys'. So it was just the registrar.

One thing I remember George said when we got married - "We will rough it out." I liked the sound of it - pretty romantic. anyway life was quite rough and adventurous as it is with my 3 kids and striving to keep a balance. 

George was not a perfect person - none of us are. He was a package of everything included. The highlight of this marriage was that I got a taste of a normal married life, albeit for a few years. Yes, I was the homemaker, looking after home and hearth while George went out to earn the goodies. He even celebrated the kids' birthdays in the most homely manner. He cooked well, arranged games for the children, sang and played along with them in the parties. Looking back it was not so bad. Thursdays were his off days and we would all go to the market. But before that, he would scrub the children clean and give them a bath. and always would say - see how dirty your children are - you don't even look after them properly. Hahaha! this routine continued even after Kuki was born. We soon had dogs and thursdays were great days for them too. Fresh meat and other goodies daddy would get for them!!!!

Educational awareness in Himachal. I was even allowed to watch live classes taking place even though I was just a visitor!

Leaving behind a small village in Himachal on my solitary tour after George's death. I found the Village Pradhan was a lady. Wish she was around I would have taken her photo.

The view from my Jamta balcony.

George with our first grandchild. On her first birthday, 28 February, 2009.

But it was not hunky-dory for me. Imagine looking after 3 growing kids and a baby and 3 dogs. We could not afford to hire help. But we managed. It was a rough and tumble life-style but there was fun, too. Most often on thursday evenings we all played throw-ball or net ball within the compound. Big advantage living inside the Club.

Icecream (Shib Shekhar), Vimto(Pavitra), Pussycat(Clara) in front of the little house we lived in Tarnaka, Secunderabad. These three musketeers used to have a whale of a time running around in the open.

Kuki (Sharon) came into our lives in 1986 and became quite the darling of the family. This is in Secunderabad Club house. 

G

In Delhi in Sarah's house. Sarah in the middle, me in left and my two girls - Pussycat and Kuki.

George gave me a great friend in the form of his elder sister, Sarah. She was a marvellous sister-in-law. All women would love to have such a sister-in-law. Sarah taught for donkeys' years in Springdale School, New Delhi. She was very liberal in her views and quite a champion for women's causes. And she loved her brother very much but did not falter to give him a mouthful when he misbehaved with me. We often came to Delhi and stayed with her in her small flat. It always used to be a big party, except when she had her students coming over for tuition. Even the dog had to keep silent. We were either shunted out of the house to the near by park or loitered in the attached terrace. But a couple of hours later it used to turn into a madhouse, full of love and cheer. Sarah's 2 daughters were just about the age of my boys, so the kids got along very well. Her husband, Trilochan was a great buddy to George. Their best togetherness was sharing a bottle or two. Hahaha! But they had a long history together, as all of them grew up in Connaught Place area.

Aurangabad, Maya apartments. Relaxing after a birthday party of one of my kids.
That is Kuki resting her head on  my lap. 

We lived for a few months in a barsati in West Delhi in 2002. Pussycat curled up on the charpai. I am the laughing mother.

Our first car bought on 9th September 2004. The credit goes entirely to Pussycat. She dared to take loan and buy this Maruti 800 AC. Of course, we were all working then. Here she seems worried if Vimto will let her drive it!!!!

Our flat in Defence Officers Apartment in Dwarka, Delhi. Vimto busy watching TV. Pussy and Kuki just came back from a shopping spree.

Hadimba Devi in Manali. This deity is brought in a palanquin to the place of festivity in this state.It was such an occasion at the hotel where we worked in Manali. 

Vimto with guest, Sunil Shetty (film star) at Ambassador's in Aurangabad.

Manali

Secunderabad Club

I remember this day because it was not only Kuki's 2nd birthday but also I got full marks in my first exam of COBOL at NIIT in Hyderabad! And yes I fortunately found the same type of dresses for both the girls with matching shoes. It can turn into a nightmare with one girl's birthday and the other being seemingly ignored.

George relaxing in the Spa section which materialised with his enterprising efforts. At GrandView Resorts, Jamta, Himachal Pradesh.

George you loved hotels and admitted you knew nothing but hotel. You simply excelled in your hotel jobs. I still have some of the letters written by guests who got a taste of your hospitality in the different hotels you worked in. People from far and near, all across the globe. You did good in your service life. And see you died with your 'boots on' - very fortunate. Even at the age of 63-64 you held on to your job and worked diligently. You loved Jamta and you were buried there. The same spot where you used to take Lucky for his walks. As if, it was pre-determined. And the whole village assembled to go along with your coffin down the hill proved how much the local people loved you. Your ten years in Jamta created a solid bond between you and them. Bless your soul. If possible look out for our daughters - Pussycat and Kuki. They could do with some added blessing from a father. Cheers!

Jamta, oil massage for one of my grand daughters.

From my balcony in Jamta. This car is carrying the new bride, who will be carried up the mountain in a palanquin, behind me.

George and I once went on a tour and visited this important temple. 2009.

Jamta house, Vimto relaxing on one of his visits.

George saw these two grand children from Haryana.

And saw this grandchild from Bombay.

George did not see this grandchild, who arrived on the 22nd of December 2016.

The day Vimnto, Kuki, Kuldeep were about to drive back home to Delhi and Haryana after the final services for George. 2010. I stayed back with Icecream, who stayed back for a few more days before going back to work.


I am a total dud. Could not straighten some of the pictures. Will try later.

Jagannath Yatra

                                                 Jagannath Temple, Puri
The above picture is from the net, as no one is allowed with a camera or phone anywhere near the temple.
I have been getting this feeling that I need to go to Puri for quite some time, in the last couple of years. Planned to visit the place a few times, but it never materialised. So this time I just got the tickets and was off. Of course, my children and my sister were totally against my travelling alone because they presumed I am not fit to do so! My friend, Anita had other worries. She has always maintained I am a complete fool where train travel is concerned. She could not care less if I am flying anywhere because she knows I am on sure grounds. I have been to Puri exactly 31 years ago in January, 1985 and even then Anita sent a young man along to make sure I reached the place safely. Sweet Anita. I met George Shalom on that trip. He was the general manager of this swanky Japanese-style hotel I had put up in. This trip felt like a closure.
I reached Puri station early in the morning at 4.29 a.m. to be exact. I checked the station clock when I got off the tain. It was absolutely dark outside and I had no clue where to put up for the day. I boldly walked up to the weary-eyed ticket checkers and enquired about any small abode at a reasonable rate. One of them pointed to a young fellow, who had sidled up, and said that he would take me to the right place. Okay. Off I went with this fellow, his name was Kabir, very poetic! Riding in his awesomely noisy auto rickshaw in the dark alleys of Puri, I was wondering if I would become another tourist tragedy.  Getting a place to stay for the day was not easy - none of the small hotels or guest houses were willing to let in a single occupant. I wondered what sort of danger did the people expect from a 63 year old limping woman!? Anyway we finally found a guest house where the manager was willing to let me in provided I paid for double occupancy. I jumped at the offer! Thank you Suman Guest House on Chakrathirtha Road and thank you to the manager, Vasant-ji. It was still dark and it was past five a.m.
By 8a.m. I was bathed, rested and a knock on the door revealed a Panda (people who take you around a temple at a certain price) and vouched for by Vasant-ji, who was willing to help me with the darshan. Along came another young man, named Rahul, also known to the guest house manager, who offered to take me to the temple and show me around a little bit of the various holy sites. Yes at a price that I was okay with. Rahul is an auto rickshaw driver and owner.
All cars and vehicles are stopped far away from the temple premises, so either you walk it down or ride pillion on the Panda's motorcycle (as I did). I had to leave my sandals and mobile at his residence and then walk to the temple. There I found stands where you can keep your mobiles, bags, shoes etc and get a deposit ticket in return. I guess my option was better as these stands were overly crowded. Did I mention the streets of Puri and the temple premises were streaming with the saffron-clothed water carriers?  These men carry water in two big cans slung across their shoulders from a wooden pole. These men carry water from various spots to pour the water on a shiv linga in some known Shiv Temple.  I believe they cannot put down the water containers on the ground till the ritual is over! Now thousands of these water carriers were here to get a darshan (see) of Lord Jagnnath to complete their pious pilgrimage.
Inside the temple premises it was a mad rush, with tourists from various towns, cities and villages and the surging crowd of the water carriers. We entered through one of the four gates - it is called the Chamchika Dwar (Bat Gate). Daya, the panda, informed us (a family of three was a part of our group) that people who insult or talk lightly of Lord Jannath get born as bats in the next birth and hover in this portion of the temple. I saw hundreds of bats clinging to the roof of the huge gate, but not anywhere else.
The next gate was - Gaja or Hathi Dwar (Elephant Gate), guarding against any non-believers? A few more steps and we were on a flat ground with the main temple right in front and numerous small temples surrounding the main one.  The steep stairs leading upto the main temple was not visible - only a sea of human backs! Daya advised much rather see the small temples first and let the crowd thin out at the stairs. So we trudged after him and then he stopped under a roof, which seemed a sort of passage. Yes it was - on one side was a huge dark cavernous entry to the Lord's kitchen, not visible to us. Daya informed us there are 752 chulas or burning stoves on which 400 cooks keep cooking the prasadam, while 200 helpers are busy chopping, cutting, cleaning the raw ingredients. The prasadam is served to Lord Jagannath 5 times in a day, everyday. Later each meal is sold to the public at 250 rupees per plate. As I said we were in a passage and right opposite were the secret stairs through which the food is carried by priests, who have their mouths covered, to the Lord.
Walking around the premises and getting inside the small temples of many Hindu gods and goddesses, became a little tiring and we pestered Daya to make arrangement for the main darshan.  Now we were shocked to hear the temple gates would not be opened today - the priests had gone on a flash strike!!!!!!Something to do with the Ulta Rath Jatra when the wheels had climbed on to some one or something and the police had arrested 15 priests and they were behind bars. We kept waiting in front of the Sun-god temple, hoping the priests would relent and I kept sending Light to them. Though we did not have to wait for long, but the mad rush was scary and overwhelming. However, I knew it was now or never and so clinging on to the panda's hand I pushed and shoved (decently) through the human mass.  The steps were slippery and honestly till the last minute I had no thoughts except a focussed concentration of climbing safely and not slipping. The family from our group followed closely and it was to their advantage, as people generally let a senior person (me) pass through. Yes people are still kind to senior citizens - nice to know that.
Just before the actual spot of darshan I became aware of a young Bihari couple (the husband was in his early 20s and the wife in her late teens). They defintiely belonged to what we call the labour class. The young man was holding his very small baby (6 months, at most) on his shoulders, so the sleeping baby would also have a darshan! I thanked God that if young people were so spiritual and religious in this world, we still have hope for an enlightened New World. I was pulled by Daya and then I was suddenly in front of the Lord. I was stupefied. No words to describe the feeling of those few seconds - I remember I kept saying - I love you. And then the magic was gone. People behind me pushed to get their hard-earned darshan.
Later I went off with Rahul to see some favourite spots. These were Lord Krishna's Pishi's (father's sister) residence on a lake, Mashi's (mother's sister) residence, a Japanese Buddhist temple built by Sudarshan Patnaik and then a samadhi. When he told me the name I was bowled over. It was the samadhi of Bejoy Krishna Goswami, my grandmother's (father's mother) guru! I got off the auto and went inside - an absolute joy to see the beautifully kept premises. I even took a couple of snaps of the samadhi and bedi.  I told the swami about the connection with my grandmother and he quietly left me alone to take the snaps!

                                                  Bejoy Krishna Goswami - samadhi

This is Lord Krishna's or Jagannth's Mashi's residence. The woman in the wheel chair crept in while taking the first picture. I told her she is in the picture and she let me be. No begging!!!!

                                                   The Buddhist temple in japanese style.

I tried to locate SriYukteswar Giri's samadhi and ashram in Puri. But no one could tell me anything. I returned to the guest house and rested till my return train time at night. 

Freedom of expression or mindless chatter?

".....the Supreme Court Friday said that “right to free speech cannot mean that a citizen can defame the other”.

A bench of Justices Dipak Misra and P C Pant approved the Constitutional validity of sections 499 and 500 (criminal defamation) in the Indian Penal Code, underlining that an individual’s fundamental right to live with dignity and reputation “cannot be sullied solely because another individual can have his freedom”.

A couple of days ago a lady poached into my son's fb account and left some unsavoury remarks on his posts. We could not understand who she was and her purpose for defaming and slandering us, till we went to her account and found her identity. I got upset about some comments where she directly accused me of certain things. It was apalling, to say the least. I posted a message on my fb page and addressed it to her by name. All my friends may have read it. You all must have read her reply/ies too. And you must have gone through my final post to her. She is relentless and has been posting some very poisonous comments on my son's fb account. 

The internet is a boon in all ways. However, the easy accesibility and navigational ways can sometimes be a curse. See how easily this woman has been poaching on us, going through our fb, blogs; hijacking friends from our list. She has called me a cheat, liar, hypocrite and also hinted at my character and God knows what else. Does this amount to defamation or no? 

All this because our case has been restored, which had been surreptiously dismissed without even letting us know, while we were still living in Delhi. I had a very simple question for the legal system, but the crafty lawyer wrote what he had to write saying these are legal languages which I would not understand. I still have the same simple question - Is the certified deed of settlement in my name legal and binding? Do the words "streedhon" and "irrevocable" hold any water? The lawyers and the court continued the case from 2006, our lawyer suddenly called up to say he does not want to fight my case. My son came down to Calcutta to collect the papers. Later I came to Calcutta, found a lawyer and came to know my previous lawyer had no representation done in 90 percent of the dates given by the court. I went back to Delhi and when we came to Calcutta for good in 2012 end, we cooled our heels till the Calcutta courts opened after a long holiday. Surprise! The case had been dismissed and we were not even aware. We have been trying to restore the case from 2013 and now a couple of days earlier we have been told it has been restored by the court. It is cheering but at what cost!

The opponent, mainly Rooma De, is using her younger brother's daughter-in-law to call me names, slander my credibility on a public forum. Rooma is a master in spreading rumours, threatening indirectly, slandering people through third parties. Now she has found a nice tool, who is computer savvy and willing to bite more than she can chew. It is sheer desperation.

I should have been wiser and ignored this young lady's comments from the beginning. I made a mistake.    

I am sharing this blog on fb as I know my fb friends must have had a rude shock when they saw the comments and posts. I do not need to explain myself or defend myself to anyone, yet I owe this much to my longstanding friends. Washing dirty laundry in public is not exactly my style. Unfortunate. 

The only thing that keeps coming back - is where and who decides the bar has been crossed as far the supreme court ruling on defamation is concerned. Or is this all mindless chatter, meaningless noise made by desperate humans?  

Bablan and Bhumba - 2

Just a small continuation of the last post. I forgot to add a few things.
Bablan was born on 9th September, 1971.
Bhumba was born on 22nd July 1972.
Bhumba was always the smarter of the two and Bablan was the good one, as the first borns usually are. Bhumba was terriby naughty and mischievious; he escaped reprimand or punishment easily. You know how? Simple. He would disappear from the "crime" scene and leave Bablan with the evidence of his mischief. Bablan never understood what was happening. Never. He would be the one to get the shouting or scolding, while Bhumba was hiden some place else. Till such time that the naughty one was caught  one fine day. He broke the mirror from Bishu mama's bike and was coolly passing it on to Bablan, who would be left standing with the broken pieces. Hahaha! What fun. All kids are the same.
Bumba and Vimto were thick as thieves. Both had the silent, mischievious nature. I remember that day in 1977, before Pussycat was born. It was ladies' day at the centre and Rooma, Swapna and I were inside taking the class. In those days we had curtains at the gate, which opened to the lawn in the middle and one could see straight into Rooma's house. Yoshodhara Behen from Ahemdabad had come to spend her holidays with her guruji and us, as usual. She was a Hindi teacher with St.Xaviers, Ahmedabad. Yashodhara was there on the second floor and had gone to take her evening bath. Baba was either still to go up for his tea or had finished, can't remember. The curtains were fluttering inside the classroom when one lady close to the curtains shouted "fire". All of us turned to her and then looked up to where she was pointing. The green tarpaulin blinds on the second floor were on fire. The first thought was the boys were probably there and so run, run to save them. By the time Rooma, Swapna, I and some other teachers came running, we found Baba laughing and scolding at the same time.  Laughing because Yasodhara panicked inside the bathroom and came out "as is" condition. Scolding whom? The two culprits were standing in the extreme corner of the small balcony and I tell you, the expressions on their faces was priceless. Both Bhumba and Vimto had some fascination for fire, don't know why. They had been warned, scolded many a times. Somehow, Bhumba had got hold of the match box from the kitchen and then both of them hid under the long tarpaulin cover to do some testing, if you please. Well rest is history. The blinds was more than half burned. What is amazing is that Bhumba and Vimto had the sense to cower down to the ground to save themselves. Thank God they were unscathed.
The following are two instances of Rooma's punishment method.
Bablan, yes Bablan, must have been about 2-3 yars old and got into some mischief (naturally). Rooma had the freehand to override the elders in most matters and it was the same in this case. She had Bablan locked up in the first floor bathroom without any light for a couple of hours. This was at 4/2 Rammohan Roy Road house, now more popular as the Ghosh Yoga College. Some of you who have gone and stayed there in recent times will be aware of this particular bathroom. Of course, modifications and updations have been done over the years.  In those days, this bathroom used to always look like a dark cavernous giant waiting to swallow you. I, myself never went in and always sped by when I had to cross it. I remember it as a terrifying place. There was just a small window outlet on the opposite wall, from where you could understand the difference between night and day. You know those windows you see in stark prison cells? Well once you closed the door and without light even the strongest of hearts would miss a beat or more. Bablan went through that punishment.  Whether it left any emotional scars ---??????
This happened in New Alipore. Pussycat was born and more mishcievious, naughty and smarter than her four elder brothers. But she was also a girl and so loved to watch her pishi (Rooma) dress up. It used to be a treat for her if Rooma would let her in the room (first floor) and feast her eyes on all those things laid out on her pishi's dressing table. It so happened one day, the maid Kamini (found her working for Swapna in 1997), took Pussy with her into Rooma's room, when she was not there. Well, how can a girl of 2-3 years let the chance go by!  she played with her pishi's bindi set and may have displaced them. When Rooma came back in the late afternoon and checked with the maid, she sent her upstairs to call Pussy down immediately. By this time, of course, all five kids were fast asleep. Having their afternoon nap. I told the maid I will send Pussy down when she gets up. Rooma sent back the maid with the message that Pussy must be awakened right now and sent down. Swapna, who was there with me, said do it or else there will be hell to pay. So a drowsy Pussy was pulled down the stairs to be punished for having touched Rooma's bindi set. When I came down to see what was happening Rooma sternly told me to stay out of it and Pussy would be standing facing a wall corner for one hour as punishment.        
I remember Baba telling me once - I know I have to live for another 20 years at least because I have to bring up these monkeys (grandchildren) and put them on track."  I too had the same dream that all the four boys would be brought up well and take the yoga institute to the next level. All that was shattered and Rooma became the surveyor of all. Amen.

Bablan and Bhumba

Yes, these are the two sons of Arun Bose, younger brother of Ashok Bose. I have a photo of both the boys with Hyama San when they were in Tokyo. I simply cannot find it now.
It was 1973 or 1974 when Arun went off to Tokyo to teach yoga at Hanari San's centre. I think it was mid 1975 when he requested that his wife, Swapna and his two boys come to him. I remember Baba taking me aside one afternoon to ask me something. He asked - "What should I do? Should I let Swapna go with the kids?"  The only other grandchild then was Icecream, my eldest son, and Mamoni was very attached to all her grandchildren. She simply doted on them. Yet I told Baba what I felt from my heart - "Every girl marries with a dream of running her own home with husband and kids. I am sure Swapna does the same. Why not let her go and live independently with her husband in Tokyo?" Mind you it was my thought, but I had seen Swapna so happy ever since that phone call came from Arun. Okay eventually, Arun sent the tickets and completed the formalities and Swapna flew off to Japan with Bablan and Bhumba.  
1976, at New Alipore, Baba read out a few letters from Swapna. I shall not go into the details because they will surely upset some sentiments. Well, ultimately, Swapna returned from Tokyo with the boys. I was told that Arun was suffering from tuberculosis and the Japanese doctors had given up hope. TB? Not curable in 1976? And that too in Japan?
I forgot to mention this. Even before they arrived, Baba sat down and consulted with me as to which school to admit the boys. After much brain-racking it was decided Nava Nalanda was the best choice. Next day I was sent off to the school at the tip of Southern Avenue. By the time I came out I had already got Bablan and Bhumba admitted into the school, even without the candidates being present. Yes this a grace of God that I have always been successful in my pursuits, without any name dropping or money incentive. More on that in a some other blog.
Coming back to the story, soon after Swapna and the boys came back ( I was still living with my two sons on the third floor of the main building, the entire building was on lease to Reserve Bank for its officers), I heard Arun was coming back for good. He came and hardly lived for 15 days. No one was allowed to go near him or talk to him. Bhabani (she was the Nepali maid I had appointed with Mamoni's permission when Icecream was just born) would set his food at the door for him to pick it up. First few days Arun lived in the second floor room of Rooma's house, later he was shifted to the room behind the office in the ground floor.
I never saw Arun vomitting blood or showing any signs of TB. Yet he was totally secluded. I remember a Kasmiri shawl-walla came in-between and so did a typical bengali puja sari-walla. Baba chose a shawl for me, I still have it. When it came to sari, I chose a typical "garoder sari" with the red border. I was picking up one for Swapna, when she said in bengali - Ami oke khorchar khaitai like rekehchi. Ami ota nobo na." I was shocked. This was said in the presence of the father of the man she was referring to. Yes, isn't it funny that some instances and words get ingrained into the brain and you wonder why!
Those 15 odd days I became very friendly with Arun, because I insisted I would visit him and talk to him everyday. Of course, Rooma threw a tantrum and influenced her father to object, too. I was threatened that I would get the contagious disease and so would my two sons. I was willing to take the risk.  Oh we used to chat so many things. First he would address me as Tutubowdi and aapni. Soon I became Tutudi and tui. We had lots of laughter, discussed drawings, sketching, painting, artists. Arun was a great sketch artist and I was steeped in it from childhood. My ideal was Pablo Picasso. hahaha! In one of those days I left to visit the jain temple alone. I sat there and drew the temple from a platform oiutside the main temple. That is where I also met the wife of the Japanese Consul General, who I had taught yoga for sometime. She recognised me before I did. It was splendid. Anyway, when I came home and showed the sketch to all, Arun was very appreciative. I remember he was sitting under the jamrul tree in front of the office - it was late afternoon. I wonder if Bablan remembers the jamrul tree his grandmother had planted for her grandchildren. Very sweet fruits.
I remember packing lunch boxes for the boys - Bablan, Bhumba, Icecream and Vimto. Getting the kids ready for school, making them drink their milk - you know the usual. My sons were attending the local St,John's , right across the road.
How Arun died is another story for later.
Bablan and Bhumba used to go for tuition to Kumkumdi next door. I believe later both of them were admitted to some other school due to poor performance. Wonder how! Both were very bright kids and Bhumba was terrifically sharp. After my marriage to Ashok, Bhumba got attached to me and would tell everybody - ami Tutr chhele. Ami Jethur chhele." Hahaha!
Bhumba had thick black hair and very thick lashes, i see he still has. Once I remember I was lying down next to him in the aftrrnoon when I saw some white ant-like things roaming around his lashes. I was alarmed and immediately called Mamoni to come and see, as he was fast asleep. They were white lice! Of course, medical action was taken immediately and we got rid of them. We were all so scared that his eyes do not get affected. Thank God everything was okay.
Both Bablan and Bhumba were quite alarmed when I had my first-born. Now I understand they thought now Tutu (yes they used to call me by my petname) will not love us as before. So natural when we are small and have siblings coming in the way. My brother and I had the same fears when our sister was born. What if Mama does not love us any more? But it passes with time in due course. I have so many photos of them holding on to me or Icecream, all taken by Bishu mama.

Reaching out to strangers - good or bad?

(I hope I do not get sued for using this image. Honestly I love this character and actress.)
Last evening while waiting for my turn at the hair cuting saloon (Topper's) I met a lady. Actually I was occupying the whole seat meant for two and doing some light channeling with closed eyes. I felt the receptionist telling someone "Here, come and sit here". I opened my eyes and nudged closer to the corner to make space for this senior (older than I am) lady. Talking I got to know that her late husband was head of the Ichhapur Rifle Factory, that she lives all by herself on the 9th floor of the same building as Topper's, that her only son lives in San Fransisco with his family, that she does not wish to go and live there, that she plays bridge with a friend, who lives close to Menoka cinema hall. I invited her to our house, as we stay close by. Whew! More, there is a huge rifle in a showcase as you enter her flat. I asked her what does she do - she said she keeps roaming from one room to the other and plays bridge. I said - I believe it is an intelligent game and what else does she do? Nothing much else. She said that children nowadays tend to have a mind of their own, to which I nodded in total agreement. I also added that times are changing and so are values.
Do we older people tend to give out more information than necessary or is it  because most of us live a lonely life and open up when we find someone willing to listen?  Either which way, it becomes a security issue. We older people reach out to strangers for want of any sympathetic ear. In the process, we give out sensitive information that can and are used to our own detriment.
I sincerely hope that her son is reading this and will understand how much his mother misses having a family around her. Of course, there will be issues, problems, arguments - it is important to have it that way. Otherwise, you cannot be a family - like the Punjabis say - we fight and argue the whole day but at night it is one big happy family at the dinner table.
I am not naming any names, but I sincerely hope families will start living together again, for better or worse. But definitely together. God bless. 

Mongoose which later turned out to be a civet cat!!!!!

Yesterday morning was the usual morning and as usual I was about to sit with my laptop in the northern balcony, while Sandya (maid) scrubbed and mopped rest of the house. The balcony looks out on the road, so noise and confusion is not rare. However, the noise was a bit different, maybe more educated sounds, sober sounds! So I looked down as did my son, Pavitra. I saw some of the gentlemen on this road were looking at something scruffy and dragging itself towards the tree on the opposite pavement. I asked one of the men - "is it a mongoose?" He promptly replied "yes". I immediately logged on and searched all and any animal welfare units (Calcutta) and their numbers; and started calling each on. No response - maybe too early for them to rescue animals! I then called PETA (Bombay). The phone was answered at the second ring - surprise! The gentleman on the other side was very helpful - said there is no PETA in Calcutta and then gave me a mobile number. He said he was sure this lady would definitely help.   The mobile was busy for a long time, but I did not give up and so got to talk to the lady in question at last.
I jus got the name Chhaya, so addressed her as MsChhaya and told her about our dilemma. She was quite responsive. Though her organisation works with dogs and other domestic animals, not with wild life as the mongoose is from that category, she advised me how and what to do before she arrives to pick it up. She said she would hand over the animal to the concerned wildlife agency.  By this time, the local dogs ran towards this dark-looking creature, limping and dragging itself. My son ran out to ward off the dogs and stand guard. Ms Sharda of Chhaya Shelters (on my second call she corrected me), advised that the mongoose should be first entrapped in a cloth and then locked in a plastic marketing basket. Now where to get a plastic marketing basket! Here, we all use just bags not baskets, she said why dont I send someone to Lake market to buy one - that we ruled out.  By now the crowd was thinning, then one of the younger fellows brought a good size carton. So my son, (must say he was brave) folded my clean but old dress over the head of the animal and swung it high and brought to our doorstep. Then the injured little thing was placed inside the carton and waiting ensued for Ms Sharda to come or send her dog-car. The older gentlemen left as they had to go to office, soon the other young man left too for work, so it was my son and I waiting to hand over the 'mongoose' to professional authorities.
Yes, finally, Ms Sharda Radhakrishnan - founder of Chhaya drove up with her assistant and swiftly took the responsibility off our hands. God bless her!
Surprise when she called me later in the day to tell me that the animal saved this day was not a mongoose but a Civet Cat.!!!!!! wow!  She also told me that the cat was injured and being looked after by animal doctors at her hospital; the cat was also happily guzzling milk and swallowing bananas.
I checked with Sharda this morning. The cat is doing fine, so far, her appetitte is good and doctors are monitoring her development. Thank God. Chhaya hospital is in a village called :Sundhya", some 10 km from Sonarpur.
I have seen civet cats in Bandhavgarh Forest, when I used to work there. I should have known, but, honestly I saw the animal from the first floor balcony and when it was inside the carton I did not dare look inside.You see I had seen it snap at my son when he went to cover it with the cloth, I did not want to risk it and go through anti-rabies injections. I am scared of those needles.
The PETA  also sent me some numbers for wildlife (later on). Here are the numbers, in case anyone needs to know:-
033 23583208. Mobile - 9163669809.