Monday, October 11, 2010

Of the 'Puja' Magic...and things like that!!

As I was going back home last week, sitting beside the driver in an auto,it rained cats and dogs.The driver grumbled and said. "The rains have no business spoiling the pujas for us at the last minute, look at all those shoppers, they wait all year just for these five days of happiness, and now the rains are spoiling the fun..I will just pray that the pujas aren't disrupted." His true feelings made me feel for him, and as I looked around I found out that these were the very sentiments shared by almost all the people in the city,as they scurried for cover in the maddening rain.Turns out, the Gods did listen to him and sunny days are back again.That little interaction though,made me relive my own association with the Durga Pujas as well.Though am not a Bengali,and am no expert as to what rituals are followed on those five auspicious days, but am as much attached to the pujas as anyone else is, for my very own reasons.And its for the very reason that I write this, for am sure all my Bengali friends already know a lot about the pujas and its history,and am certain it would be of interest to them to hear the other side of the story, i.e; on how a non-bengali looks at the grandeur of the pujas.

When I was in school,the coming of the pujas meant an extended holidays running up-to Diwali, so naturally it would be awaited with great anticipation.But more than anything else,the first thing that comes to my mind whenever I think of durga puja and my childhood, is Lights.I still remember quite vividly,how excited I would be to see those light bulbs being strung across our whole locality.Those little shinning bulbs would mark the actual arrival of the pujas for me.And then there would be famous figures(Like Rabindranath Tagore) and famous events(like the WTC attack), which would be made out skillfully with small bulbs, making for an excellent viewing.Then of course there where those larger than life hoardings decorating the pavements, screaming out things like "Bantuli tel"and "Chandralok chnaachur" and what not.And how can I forget the soulful rhythms of the 'Dhaak', it still makes me tap my feet instantly,(more than any Dj can) and truly takes you to another world. I have to admit here that,spending a good part of my life in the lanes of Shovabazar, did help me get accustomed to the pulse of Durga puja, what with famous pandals of Banyatola and Ahiritola nearby, virtually the whole of Bengal would throng to have a look at them.Which brings me to another fond memory.My pujas in those days would be mostly spent sitting at the corner of my balcony and gazing at all the different kinds of people passing by.Trust me, its an experience in itself to look at the different antiques of people.You could sense their excitement.Some would come out with the most atrocious and vivid clothes, some children would be crying hoarse,while girls as usual would be giggling madly, and the elderly would quietly trot along,holding their grandchildren with firm hands.It would be such a large and striking canvas, no painter can ever put it in his paintings.

The other miscellaneous aspects that comes to mind is of course the loud,blaring music outside every pandal.Songs like "Tum to tehere Pardesi", " Dekha hai pehli baar", were the order of the day, and I must admit they did sore my eardrums and made me hate Kumar Sanu for no particular fault of his.And then there were those never ending announcements in extremely broken Hindi, for all the "Bapi da s" and 'pontu s",who kept getting lost in the crowd.It would keep up the amusement all night and not to mention with it my sleep too.
And then came the pandal hopping itself.Now I can go on and on that but I know that most of the people who will read this already are accustomed to the magnanimous proportions the pandals and the lighting take the city to.So keeping the astounding creativity aside, what I loved most was holding my father's warm hands and strolling around the crowd, eating all those street side food without any guilt, looking at so many different faces, and just soaking in the "Puja air"..Yes that is one term only Kolkatans can comprehend.

With all that also came the heart-wrenching prospect of seeing all the madness coming to an end.I remember sitting outside my balcony at Navami almost till three in the morning, just gaping at the crowd, listening to those soft Bengali tunes,taking in everything as much as I could, just to not let the moment get away.But sadly it does. To see the bulbs going off one by one, the billboards being removed; would almost bring me to tears(to hell with 'almost', it did).And I can swear that the people who would be removing it would be just as distraught.Years kept passing by, but that one emotion that I cant change is the one that I face on the night of Navanmi.Hell why does it hurt so much?

Over the years lots has changed the world over, but the pujas in Kolkata always remain the same.The people still are as anxious about it, the crowds still throng to see the best pandals throughout the night, the last days in the run up to the pujas,are still spent in shopping overdrive and the songs still keep blaring out of the speakers.(Though Himesh has taken over Sanu).

Like that auto driver said to me, its the very thing I find the most intriguing about the pujas.People here wait the whole year for these four days, forgetting all their sorrows and joining in the festivities with such vigour, its simply amazing.The rich colours of the crowd, the smiling faces, and the same ruthless devotion for the goddess,its almost infectious.Though am not much into deity worshiping it fills my heart with immense joy, to see the people maintaining our rich culture and rituals with such aplomb.The crowd you will see, has no division, the street urchin walks beside the rich zamindar, with the same strut,and both bow their heads before the goddess to seek her divine blessings..Its that time of the year you see..Where the city comes to an absolute halt for those very special four days.

I have had my differences with Kolkata, I have severely criticized it for its wayward ways.But when it comes to the pujas, I wont have it any other way.It is the one thing that I, as a Kolkatan am supremely proud of, and always boast about it to my relatives living in other states."Come and be astounded". I would declare. They don't understand whats the fuss all about, They never will; that feeling, I guess,is reserved for us Kolkatans only.Come the pujas , Kolkata is the place to be.
Happy Durga Puja all my dear friends...Its time to get submerged in the puja magic.You see, its that time of the year again!!!

Sunday, October 3, 2010

Walking down the last trail ???

The last post that I wrote outlined my fascination for the King of the Indian forests, The Tiger,.Being a personal account it simmered more on my experiences, but now I would like to add another dimension to this angle.Lets come down to the more gruesome and gory details of of the our national pride, which seems to have eluded the minds of the protectors of our forests all these years.The more I loved the tiger, the more I learnt about it, and unhappily what I learnt left me quite stunned.
1411, that is the figure that has been glaring down at us from various billboards throughout our city.A mobile company's "save the tiger" campaign has been quite a hit, with celebrities galore putting their voice behind it.People are suddenly aware of our national animal's dimming fortunes, what with blogs and social networking sites going into a tizzy trying to fill up their pages with debates galore on what needs to be done to save the precious animal.The sudden rise in this awareness is a good thing, but the more prominent question that needs to be asked is that are the voices strong enough to bring our corrupt and inept netas from their slumber and finally force them to do something for the "dying" animal? I think not, for the simple reason that animals cant vote!!

Though the number 1411 has stuck with all and sundry, I would like to aware my readers that it is an old number, the census figure of the year 2005.Many more innocent tigers have been butchered since. Though am not an expert on the issue, from whatever I have gathered by reading various books of Indian conservationists, the number should be somewhere around a mere thousand.

Chimerical though it may seem, but there used to be a time , when it was a toss up between humans and tigers, and at the turn of the century we had close to about 40,000 tigers!!If the words of conservationists are taken fore, we have lost close to a 1500 tigers in the last six years alone. Caught in metal traps , they are shot at point blank range. The tiger is being butchered primarily to tailor Tibetan dresses and for making Chinese medicines. This is appalling and shameful .At a time when we, as Indians, should be nurturing our National pride, we are slowly peeling its skin off and selling it off to foreign lands.
Tiger killings go a long way back too. In the pre- independence days, the tiger was the ‘prized trophy’ for the Indian royalty. Shooting a tiger signaled the coming of age for young princes. Post – independence the carnage continued. Amidst this blatant and senseless butchery, alarm bells were signaled in the 1960s.The tiger was vanishing and fast. Then , the country found a saviour in the form of the then PM , Smt. Indira Gandhi .An ardent animal lover, under her watchful eyes began a crusade to protect the tiger, which took the official form of Project Tiger, the worlds biggest conservation initiative, launched in April 11, 1973, and with a lot of jamboree at that. And it continued for over three decades, but all the celebrations came to a screeching halt in 2004, after the news of the Sariska tiger wipeout. When the project had started, we had about 1500 tigers; three decades hence about a 1000 remain in the wild. Whether the project was successful or not, is anybody’s guess.

I think the time has come for us to realize some glaring loopholes that exist both at the centre and state levels, monitoring the survival of the tigers. Bandhavgarh has lost many tigers, Panna is facing a tiger drought as well. Dampha is beyond redemption, as is Buxa.Sightings in Dudhwa with over hundred ‘official’ tigers are low. Not a pugmark seen, not a single cattle kill- indications of a dwindling tiger population.The area around the Sunderbans has seen a seizure of skins and a number of seizures on the borders of Nepal and Tibet. There was a case in 2004, where a tiger skin was recovered from Assam, being carried, believe it or not, in a police car. Poaching is rampant.And we are not even talking of the other not so popular reserves like Manas, Indrawati,Nagarjunasagar, Palamau and Valmiki; all plagued by a severe tiger crisis.
Though the apocalypse appears sudden, it isn’t so actually. Tigers existed , but only in the imagination and files of park officials. The pugmark census method, has had always been skeptical. One fact though, is quite certain,most park directors conjure up imaginary tigers to show a higher population, it avoids unpleasantness, inquiries, keeps their jobs safe and creates a sense of false security. The CBI report on Sariska seconds that point, clearly stating that the census numbers were grossly inflated.Whatever the numbers might have been, ironically though, now there are none.

The most obvious culprit in this horrifying decline is obviously poaching. The other pervasive threat to the big cat is the steady decline of its habitats. India has lost over fifty per cent of its potential tiger habitats since its independence. The bigger misfortune though is that the government and Project Tiger refuse to recognize the current crisis even in the face of inescapable evidence.

So, is this the end of the road for the tiger? Is there absolutely no hope for its future? Possibly. But, primarily we need to inculcate in ourselves certain severe facts. In any strategy to save wild tigers we have to discuss the big cat’s future without confusing it with livelihood issues of forest dwellers. There is absolutely no connection between the two. Tigers cannot breed in coexistence with humans.If you force them to live with humans, man-animal conflicts increase dangerously, Livestock gets killed, man-eating is a possibility, tigers then get poisoned and then it doesn’t stop till the last tiger is wiped out. Simply put, tigers need inviolate spaces and so do the deer and the boar and the ‘gaur’, which are the prey of the tiger. It is these essential facts that must be understood by human right activists. It is then that the tiger population rise or are maintained at healthy levels. We must not forget that the Java, Bali, Caspian and now even the South Chinese Tiger became extinct because of excessive human interference in the tiger’s habitat, which resulted in sharp falls in the prey species and in the end triggered the tiger’s extinction. We must learn from them so that we do not repeat the mistakes, which would jeopardize the Indian tiger’s future.

There might be lots of possible solutions to cease this rapid decline in the tiger numbers, noted conservationists have pointed that out endlessly. But before that we need to to understand and digest that the future of the tiger is BLEAK.All of us as citizens need to be aware and raise our voices, because that is the only way to bring the Govt. into action.The media, both print and T.V., needs to do a lot more than to cover useless stories, and should devote much more time on this grave issue to make the Govt. and the citizens more aware of the situation at hand.Let’s get one thing straight, its quite certain that tribals and forest dwellers, armchair academics and human rights activists are not going to save tigers. A robust government and a cognizant society CAN. If the greed for tiger bones and fur does not cease, the king of beasts will forever live under the shadow of the gun.In the words of noted conservationist Valmik Thapar "Let us not loose our national heritage for want (or the lack of it) of collective effort and other petty issues. We have to keep the right foot forward and ensure that the memory of the Panthera Tigris doesn’t just remain in the pictures of books".Quite amply put that; you see its very easy to sit back and blame, but to walk on the right path is very difficult. Dark and difficult times lie ahead, and very soon we shall all have to face a choice, between whats right and what is easy.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

The King and I

Always secretive
Never devious
Always a killer
Never a murderer
Never alone

- John Siedensticker

Tiger,.Somehow this word has always stuck with me since childhood in a bizarre kind of a way. And now it has taken a part of my identity, as I quite brazenly chose to give myself an alias (i.e. The Tiger-man ).Friends tease me for this, I dont get bothered, I have about a dozen Tiger T-shirts, not to mention calendars and mugs decorated by it.And as I keep moving today in my quest to know more about this fascinating animal;writing articles, reading wildlife books , watching wildlife documentaries- I wonder what exactly led to this current captivation of mine with The King..Hence I retract my steps a bit and go down memory lane to try and find out the reason for this unusual connection..

My earliest memory of The King is watching BBC'S wildlife documentaries on Doordarshan,and watching my elder brother hide under the bed,every time he heard a roar from the big cats.Those were the days when Tv was sort of a luxury and we only had a couple of channels.My prime interests then simply were cartoon shows and it was a huge struggle with my brother, which I would eventually lose,and had to be forced to watch Big cats gnawing ferociously at raw meat.This didnt remotely interest me then.

I have to admit here that a big part of my interest in wildlife and especially big-cats have to be credited to my elder brother.Having been forced to watch these shows I gradually developed a liking for them(which I never admitted to him,mind). Seeing the Tiger running after its prey and catching it,or just watching the King having a stroll around his surroundings while the world around it watched it in awe, left me mesmerized.. Me and my brother would have ample discussions then, 'Who would come out victorious if there is a fight between a tiger and a lion',I would ask him, "the Tiger of course, he is the real King",would be the quirk reply.Then there would one of those quaint declarations by him, "The Tiger never touches his meal if anyone else has touched it"..And of course one of the more truer facts that its a solitary animal and never hunts in packs,unlike its cousin the lion.All these facts kept registering in some part of my subconsciousness as I moved on in life and no matter how beautiful any other animal would be, the tiger, had etched itself in me as the supremo, though I hardly knew much about it.

As I moved on in life the fascination with the King gradually diminished, never quite evaporating though, what with the help of the Discoverys and the Animal Planets, but never quite reaching the great proportions of today, as I was busy solving those horrendous algebra problems to have any time for anything else.But things changed once I finished schooling and chose journalism as my career.It was in my first year itself that the opportunity arose to rekindle my romance with the King, in a way that now I seriously harbour hopes of becoming a wildlife journalist someday.We were to do a presentation and had to choose a topic.Somehow,strangely enough,when I was asked about it,almost instantly just one name popped in my mind, TIGER.I guess my subconscious mind,with all those years of captivation with the animal, was at work here, but anyways I soon got working on my presentation and this was when I truly got to know more finer and gruesome details of the beast which left me intrigued.I will leave the more serious of its issues and the tiger's current apathy to some other post, as here it would be going out of context. Soon, I decided that to have a better knowledge of the tiger it would be a good idea to visit it in its surroundings, i.e. a national park; and thus I embarked on a journey to meet the King at his lair, which in this case was The Ranthabhore NationalPark, Rajsathan.

As I got down at the platform of Sawai Madhopur(the small town where Ranthambhore is located), I noticed the entry gate was designed with tiger-stripes with a board saying "Welcome to Tiger-city"..As I kept strolling I noticed everything here reminded you of the King,the hotels were named as Tiger Inn, the shops Tiger Tracks etc etc.My heart was pumping, I knew I was in for an exciting time.I will leave out the more detailed version of my stay for some other post, for now lets just get down to the main part.As the sole purpose of my visit was to see the tiger in its habitat,it did come with its repercussions like getting up at 3.30 am to get entry tickets in the park. So all things done I was aboard my canter at the stroke of the rising sun with about twenty more enthusiastic people. Everywhere there was a buzz about seeing a tiger, it seemed nobody cared about anything else.The first day wasnt that fruitful as even after two visits I hadnt sighted a Tiger.But my luck soon struck gold the next morning as I entered the park again.It was a scene straight out of Discovery channel; the alarm call of the deer and the monkeys going berserk, eerie silence everywhere and all of us waited with bated breath to catch a glimpse of the tiger.And as if out of nowhere suddenly emerged the King, walking nonchalantly, seemingly oblivious to hundreds of shutters going crazy at its sight.My heart was in my Adam's apple as I fumbled with my camera to snap it and saw the Tiger walk calmly and disappear into the thickets again.I couldnt get his picture but somehow I wasnt disappointed.He was there for hardly a minute but watching his magnificent structure, the glorious stripes, the gleaming eyes, had made my day, or should I say my life.There cannot be possibly anything more captivating and engrossing than to watch a Tiger at his lair..You have to be there to believe it..Or should you??

This is something that I have recently started to comprehend.As i look back at the scene, with about a dozen jeeps and canters surrounding the tiger to get a glimpse, I try and reason is it necessary to go through this routine to view a tiger?? Isnt it blatantly ignoring the rules of privacy of an animal?? How would you feel if hundreds of people throng your house everyday and clap and point at you?? After that trip I had planned to visit many more parks, but as I have started to learn more about the tiger's dwindling population and its current apathy, I chose to stay back. I want to be a wildlife journalist, I am in love with this animal and as a responsible citizen I want to do my part in trying to save the big cat, by any which way that would be in my limits. Visiting national parks with hundreds of shouting chattering people with no respect to the rules of the jungle, am sorry to say isnt one of them. Sure the national parks are there to protect the animals and its revenue is earned by tourism, but some other ways have to be devised to stop this madness and let the tiger be in peace, whatever few in numbers they are.

My love for the King has just ignited and I intend to carry this forward.I dont just wanna be a wildlife enthusiast, wearing tiger t-shirts in the day, then forgetting everything by the time I reach home. No,I feel responsible,like I owe the King his life, for providing me with a lifetime of unabated thrill and enchantment. I might fail in the end, as I am after all a normal citizen with a normal life.But I promise O King,.I will go down fighting..I owe you bigtime!!!

Tuesday, August 31, 2010

While We were Sleeping

Being a Kolkatan can be quite tough these days, and that in itself is quite an understatement. Am quite certain that after reading this post I will probably be considered as an anti-Bengali guy,. but cant help it fellas I have had lots bottled up inside since a long time,. its time to release some of the pent up emotions. Coming back to my first statement I genuinely meant it and I do hope I will have at least a few takers.
By "tough" I meant a lot of things, namely having to go through a barrage of varied emotions, ranging from nostalgia to pride, from frustration to irritation and finally from shock to utter disgust, on any given day(or for that matter everyday)of their lives. Sadly enough I was witness to all the above mentioned emotions inside me in a single day a few days back.

I was to accompany a very close buddy of mine to the Howrah Station, who isn't quite accustomed to its giant proportions. We boarded a bus from Jadavpur which would directly drop us at the station. And thus we embarked on our journey, unaware of the fate awaiting us.

The poster of the Documentary I made on the same subject 
As the bus moved merrily towards its destination I kept chatting with my friend to kill time, and soon we were passing through the Victoria Memorial.” It looks beautiful", I said. and went on to declare with some extra pride in my voice as I looked at it "In my books the Victoria is way better a monument than the Taj Mahal". Immediately a couple of heads snapped towards my direction, both of them middle-aged Bengalis who smiled benignly at me, as a grandfather does towards his grandson. As the bus kept trotting along I was quite at ease with myself what with the extremely soothing breeze and watching those lush green ‘maidans’ in the Esplanade area. It was about at this time that I noticed something unusual. There were truckloads of flag bearing youths chanting slogans whizzing past us. My friend noticed them too, and I saw a bead of sweat trickle down his forehead, we all are quite familiar with Bengal and its “famous’ rallies harassing people’s lives. Now the train that he was supposed to catch was schedule to depart at 2.50, I looked at my watch, still about a hour and a half left. “No sweat”, I assured him quietly, and meant that literally too. As we entered Dalhousie even I couldn’t help but feel a little anxious, we were moving at a snail’s pace now. It took us a good forty minutes to reach Millennium Park, by this time my friend had really gone jumpy, and I had to extract all my consoling skills to settle him down. I was still quite hopeful, there was still fifty minutes to the train’s departure and we just had to reach the edge of the Strand Road stretch, it will hardly be five minutes from there. So according to my stupendous calculations, we should reach with time to spare. But unfortunately, the end of the road was nowhere to be seen. We waited and waited and waited……The bus just didn’t budge, and we were surrounded in like a sea of buses all over. I couldn’t see a thing beyond, except these multicolored buses. Even I lost my patience at this time, and kept swearing in whispered tones, as the atmosphere got sultry and stuffy at the same time. Hardly ten minutes left now, was the optimist in me retreating back. After a lot of huff and puff we finally managed to reach the crossing and as we were passing it I understood the reason for the commotion.

A couple of trucks laden with slogan shouting youths was retreating, and a few feet away about a dozen traffic policemen were merrily chatting away as if discussing the latest cricket score, not an iota of annoyance on their faces. Rage seethed inside me, but I was helpless as usual. My friend had already given up hope, as the traffic still hadn’t cleared due to the ‘Michil’. Finally we did reach Howrah station, and I was feeling numb, yet I didn’t want to give up hope, not yet. I ran, luggage and all, at full stretch, (in the process forgetting to take the platform ticket, as I was to come out again), and finally reached the enquiry counter, the giant clock outside read 2.57,I shrugged to myself , keeping my fingers crossed and asked the people if the Chennai Express had departed. A lady was sitting there behind the glass chatting away and didn’t even look up. I repeated my question, a little louder this time, and she looked up, clearly irritated as if I had gatecrashed her evening fiesta, and just said in Bengali that the train has left 10 minutes ago. My shoulders slumped immediately, all that running for nothing. As I came out I saw my friend looking at me anxiously, hoping against hope, and I felt so sorry for him as he was to visit his sister in Chennai who had just delivered a baby girl, and was clearly looking forward to meeting her. Blast it!! I thought, of all the wretched days the stupid train had to leave on time. Slowly we registered the fact, and decided to go back, tired as we were from the whole ordeal. But how were we to know that it wasn’t over as yet. As we approached the exit; I saw a swarm of ticket checkers stationed there. Darn it! It just struck me that I hadn’t got a platform ticket in the hurry to get the train. Tired as I was, I saw no other option other than to tell them with honesty the true events that happened. Surely they had to see reason...We stopped in front of a female T.T.. She would hardly have been half my size (Am Six feet four) and I could have simply sneezed her away, but we told her the truth which immediately brought a smirk on her face like that of a teacher who has just caught a student bunking her class.

“Pay the fine and leave”, that is what she said even after our repeated requests to let us go, so I had to fork out 260 bucks for a ticket costing 3 bucks. This was the first time in my life that I hadn’t taken a platform ticket (and believe me there have been many visits to the Howrah for me), and all those years nobody had cared to check me out. And here I was stranded without any real fault of mine.Even after visiting the main in charge didn’t pay any dividends. I paid them the money feeling so saturated with rage that I would have demolished them all if I could right there and then. I pocketed the receipt as a reminder of this day. Perhaps someday it will inspire me with something good, perhaps…

As we went back finally, tired, hungry and exhausted I had this grim thought incepted in me now. This place will never ever progress, because people don’t want it to. I looked around me, and all I could see was happy and smiling faces, discussing the political “Change” that’s about to hit us here.I suddenly remembered Jyoti Basu’s statement; “What Bengal thinks today, the world thinks tomorrow.” Is it?? I don’t think so.. While the world was changing and progressing around us we were busy organizing rallies and “Chakka –jaam” or useless hunger strikes..Nothing, absolutely nothing has come out of decades of this nonsense, and yet people here are satisfied.Try and argue one, and you will get a long list of debaters, falling back on the same old points. “Our culture is the best”. “We have some of the most talented people in arts” ,.
“Our food is the cheapest,” and not to mention degrading other cities and pointing out their problems and so on and so forth. “There” they will add with grim satisfaction, you should be happy to be living in a safe and happy place like this., would be their reply.

Its no use reasoning them.I guess we are slowly getting quite used to this lifestyle, where bandhs disrupt daily life, where potholes are like craters, where hygiene is a scarcity, where walking on a footpath itself is a challenge where we love to have reason not to work and truly where we love to sleep.So what, some might argue, this happens in most of the sates. True, but this is my state, where I have spent my whole life and a have a bagful of memories associated with it. It pains my heart to see it come to this.

I am not a Bengali, but am a Kolkatan and no one can take that away from me. I haven’t heard anything more boring than the Rabindrasangeet, I don’t like to indulge in “adda’ sessions, I don’t give two hoots about Brazil getting booted out of the Soccer World Cup and neither do I fancy Bengali literary works. Does that make less of a Kolkatan than any fellows who does exactly the aforementioned things? I think not. And neither do I need a stamp of approval from anyone. I am a normal citizen of this state, who has spent 24 years of his life in this city, and is it really too much of him to ask for better and plainer roads, for ending the never ending Bandhs and blockades, and quite simply put for better Governance. All I want is some assurity that the next time I go out I will reach my destination safely, and won’t have to be harassed by a bunch of bullies who are supposedly the 'future'. People here talk so much about politics, yet it’s the very thing that’s dragging us to a hole. What worries me is to see youngsters like me, when they should be busy charting out their career, debating like skilled politicians about the horoscope of the state. This might fill some hearts with pure joy but it fills mine with disgust. The optimist in me always saw a bright future here, but it’s slowly ebbing away. I hope I am proven wrong and Kolkata will come back to its old charismatic ways, and I won’t have to be shamed any longer while talking about it to others.

Please..Oh please..My Kolkata..Come out of this deep slumber you have gone into..I don’t want “Parivartan”,..all I want is a cognizant society which isn’t busy sleeping , while the world around gallops past us!!!

Sunday, August 29, 2010

First Step

Am finally here!!! Finally out with a blog of my own,.Over the months, following many a known faces on their respective blogs,.I had always wondered if ever I would be able to come out with one of my own.To be quite honest, I was quite skeptical and  being technically in adept didnt help either.But thanks to this wonderous world of technology, hardly had to spare Five minutes of my treacherous life in getting there.

The tough part now being done with,.now came the more important and tougher part..What the hell do I write about..Its funny coz all this while I was considering about a million things to "squeeze" in but now that I do have the whole blog to myself, my brain draws a blank..But hey,.no worries,.I will soon get over my temporary freezing and will surely enlighten you all with my over-skilled verbose and  varied take on different angles and perspective on any and everything under the sun(and the moon if it comes to it)..

Being a wildlife enthusiast, matters relating to the wild would surely take some more space,.but that doesnt count out the anything else.Be it politics, films, books, my personal experiences,.I will try my utmost to cover everything. Being a wannabe journalist I have to...And hopefully I will get some support, which would eventually help me write and scrutinize better,.Will be back pretty soon,.Cheers!!