Kolkata Journal Continues- Belgachiya Bonedi Bari

Few days back, I boldly updated my FB status with a few words of Tagore. He believed in the confidence of the youth and stated that it is our duty to protect the history of our family, locality and society; otherwise we will lose our identity and our roots. I read these lines back in school and it further catalyzed my love for the subject, History. So, when I decided to plunge into the Belgachiya adventure, this was the first thing that came to my mind.

A friend turned colleague of mine, Eshna, had once located a board stating Belgachiya Rajbari (Palace) on her way to Belgachiya Metro station. When she referred it to me, I made it a point to visit the place as soon as possible. But thanks to our remarkable records, I was unable to trace any information regarding the palace. Fortunately, I got a map (must have been uploaded by some inquisitive teenager, who have marked the palace beside a field calling it as “Amader khelar math”/ our playing ground), which was actually directing another spot 5 minutes away from the marked location.

Even though I was confused, but I decided to take a shot. Traveling to Dutta Purkur or Belgachiya is not a big deal for me because it’s near to my house. The distance is only 15 minutes by foot. After a short chit chat with my friend, Satabdi, we finally decided to visit both the locations. 

I am not a big fan of rainy season. But yes, I do like the feel it creates and the cloud formation and the look of the City of Joy after a shower. Well, that makes me a monsoon lover I guess!

Anyways, even after anticipating the possibility of heavy rain, we decided to take on this adventure and my friend, Satabdi is always the partner in crime on such trips.  We took the narrow, crowded and water logged route of Patipukur, which was the unavoidable path to reach Dutta Pukur. 

We found Mamata Bannerjee with her hands folded in the form of “Nomoskar”, standing just below the Belgachiya Rajbari signboard. Ah! Well, not the real Didi, ofcourse. It was just a banner! As we took the pitched lane and began looking for the so called palace, the dilapidated houses and unknown eyes began to stare us. And we took a U-turn saying, “We will come next time with a larger gang.” 

 

Our adventure for the day was not yet over because we still need to know about the place, which I saw in the map. Thanks to my ex-editor, she helped me to locate the name of the place, Mayanibas. After inquiring two people, we finally found the lane. Within 60 seconds, we encountered a large mansion, a pond and a temple surrounded with big trees. But then again we were unable to find the entrance.

Looking at the two inquisitive and perplexed girls, a man came out sharing some of his Rajbari knowledge. According to him, a number of movies have been shot in this house which includes, Chiriyakhana, Sthirpotro, Jalshaghar. We even came to know that it’s just a big ‘Bonedi’ house belonging to Kesto Sen, who passed away few years back. The house is now being claimed by many and struggling through legal hassles. Things have been more complicated as the property has been recognized as ‘Debottar Sampatti’ (dedicated in the name of God) and hence cannot be sold out as well. Our guide even shared that Kesto Sen was somehow related to Gouri Sen, the famous 18^th century Bengali business man.

 

 Who knew that the entrance to this Bonedi house was right in front of us! We have been using the lane for years, especially while waiting in the queue for the auto-rickshaw near Belgachiya Metro Station. The narrow lane took us to an iron gate, opening out to a massive house with large columns, which once used to be the original entrance but now has been shifted.    

Honestly, there is nothing much to see excepting the fade Corinthian columns with round shaft covered in creepers and other trees. The doors of the temple are opened on rare occasions. We returned back to the original entrance that welcomes the visitors with stone sculptures of elephants and lions. My eyes got fixed at the extended verandah. There was nothing to daze but it got me somehow and pushed me back to the classical Bengal era when ‘Babu’ culture had gripped the Bengalis. 

    

I tried of look through the glasses to catch a glimpse of the interior portion of the house but it was a failed attempt. The month of August is really unpredictable but you can be assured of rain, which soon rushed in and the mosquitoes realized they have wings and can sting as well. 

Finally, we were out on the street of 21^st century. Water logged roads and traffic at the Patipukur Rail Bridge made me feel that I was still living in the early 20^th century. What should I be: proud to still have that age old nostalgic charm or feel ashamed of the situation that shows no signs of development!

Let us not get into this controversial part; but what I like to focus on is conservation. A little bit of effort can preserve a lot of stories, which are about to lose its existence. There are many other places right here, in Kolkata that need a bit of care and concern from us. Just look around, there is always something to share. Grab your camera, forget about your photographic skills, just click on and show others what they are missing. Behind those broken roads and narrow lanes there are untold events, eagerly waiting to get unfold.

 

 

Dream- Analysis Varies

Everything happens for a reason, as stated by Sigmund Freud and dreams also have reasons that create all those illusionary thoughts and surreal world. Few days back, I was chatting with a friend on dream analysis and that very night I had a strange dream, which forced me to read the dream analysis theory of Freud. I was taken aback because he has connected every dream with sex, which according to Freud, has been suppressed in the subconscious mind. He had even talked about some ego factors, moral factors and certain stages as well. Even the stages have been connected with children. Seriously, is it possible for a child who is 3 to 4 years old to think so deeply about opposite sex or affection? I don’t know! 

As far as myself is concerned, I could not connect my dreams to any sexual factor and if I analyze mine then the reason is something very different. But then again, I cannot say Freud was wrong because he did an in-depth study. I believe dream is an impact of your surroundings. It is undoubtedly happening for some reasons that had affected you, consciously or subconsciously. Let me explain with my own dream. I dreamt of traveling to Mars, which is through the backdoor of my house, (our house doesn’t have a backdoor). I even found, whoever enters the planet Mars, they forget everything and so did I. Anyhow, I managed to find my way back and that is when I found my mother carrying a sari in her hand, entering the planet. She was talking to someone for changing it. I called her out, but then she could not recognize me and said, ‘Sorry Mam who are you? I’ll talk to you later on’, I was really shocked at her gesture. Ah! I know it’s really funny.

Now, the reason behind this dream is the Mars Mission that has been recently launched by ISRO on 5^th Nov, 2013. Media is going gaga over it. I am not very much aware about the tits and bits of it, but somewhere in the back of my mind, I am aware of the fact that this journey is definitely a stepping stone for our nation, to know the unknown. My over imaginative nature has added more colors to the thought. But, I do not find any of the Freud’s dream theory connected with mine. Thank God, I must say! 

Then again, Freud Sigmund knows the world of psychology better, I guess so! 

What do you have to say on this?

If you have missed out the northern part of Bengal,then here is a link for you. Check out. The Dreamy Land of Darjeeling !

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Let it go…….

She was going through the pieces of papers for the last time. Was she missing someone in the letter? She re-read the three pages over and over again. Everything has been framed properly, just the way she wanted. As she lifted her head up, the golden clouds in the sky brought a big smile on her face. Finally, something in her life was going to be right.

She started searching around for her cell phone. After an elongated discussion with him, she ultimately bought it. The passion for photography was something she could not resist. So, why not take the picture of the last sun set in her life? 

“Clicked”, she said. “Am done! Let’s pack up!” she said it loudly from the 10^th floor of her building. As she walked to the corner of the water storage, another view caught her eye. This time, the rays of the pinkish shaded clouds was falling on the nearby lake. “Damn!” she shouted, “Why don’t you just let me jump? You idiot nature!” Again she took her phone out and clicked with tears gushing out of her eyes. 

It was getting dark and she knew there was no one at home to know about this accident. She has the time to jump again. The fear of death no longer makes her afraid. But the fear of missing everything was gripping her. 

Everything around her seems like breathing, even the cell phone. She has not been talking to him for last 3 weeks. In spite of intense hatred, she went through the SMSs again. There was fun, flirt and even a bit of seriousness in all the messages. With one click she deleted it all and stood up again to finally end itl. But while putting the phone down, somehow she touched her picture folder. She always hated touch phones and she could feel the same disgust even before committing the crime.

As she brought her Nokia set, close to her face, the very first picture took all her strength away. She shouted with all her anger and disgust….and she was back to senses! 

She can’t take it away because she is not the one to bring it on this earth. She has no right to kill except the right to live, and let others live. How can a single incident break a relationship that begins even before she has seen the blue sky? 

And she smiled. Crumbled the three pages in her hand and threw it away into the darkness.

Swopno Na Sotti

Sokaler rodh ta chokhe porar songe songei ek jhotkai ghum ta bhenge gelo. Prothom e bhablam ami kothai, tarpor bujhlam samner flat e royechi karon pichoner flat e rong cholche. Manush er mathai o booting korte j time lage seta aj hotat jano bujte parlam. Kintu jeta chintar bisoi seta holo, ami swopne thik ki dekhchilam r kanoi ba dekhchilam? Eto punkhanupunkho bhabe khub kom swopnoi dekha jai. Tobe jeta dekhlam seta besh lomhorshok. Impact ta je office er kodine dhore bhuture golpo sonar, seta bujhte baki roilona tar sathe kichu ase paser ghotona misiye bes masla mesano swopno bolle, khub ekta bhul hobe na.  

Bhumikata er cheye besi na bariye soja swopner kothai chole jai. Nijeke sadharotno swopne dekha jai na, tai amio nijeke prothom dik e swopne na dekhte peleo, ekta third person hoye ghotonata dekhchilam. Kintu shesher dike nijekeo swopner frame e dhuke porte dekhlam. 

Prothom e dekhlam ekta mobile phone bajche. Er pore opar theke ekta cheler gola vese elo, “Kire bolli nato? Jabi?” Ebare ekta meyer golai reply, bodhai amar e “Oh dekh bhulei gechi toke janate! Chol chol. Kintu kothai jachi amra chobi tulte? North Kolkatar lane gulo bhalo asbe. Ki bolis?” “Besh tai hok,” bole phone ta kete gelo.

Porer drisso, ekta soru rastar lane. Tar du dhare purono gocher lal bari, rong otha, kichu jaigai eit beriye ache. Kothao ba jongli gach er sikor jhulche. Besh romanchokor ekta poribesh charipas e r seikhane dujon camera niye chobir khonje hente choleche. Hotat cheleta bollo “Re dekh oi baritar gaye sign board e ki lekha?” ‘Shooting er jonne bari bhara dewa hoi’ ekta placard e lekha royeche. “Cho jai.” Thik ei muhurte ami nijer gola sunlam ebong khub atonker sathei ami chenchiye uthe bollam “Dhut, abar permission lagbe, jas na. Amra eikhanei chobi tuli. Koto subject ache. Abar barite dhokar tor ki dorkar!” Cheleta khonche giye uttor dilo, “Tui tham to!” bolei gotgot kore dhuke gelo barite.

Amio pichon pichon hata marlam ogotta. 

Dorja diye ghore dhukei ekta soru andhokar passage. Ase pase choto choto ghor r prottek ta sajano royeche, jano kono shooting er jonne set toiri kore rakha royeche. Konota bosar ghor, konota sobar ghor r sob e sundor bhabe gochano. Hotat kichu payer awaj pelam, jano onek e asche. Ami khub uttejito hoye bollam “Kara asche re. Chol bero eikhane theke!”. Kintu k sone kar kotha. Amar bondhu ro bhitorer dike chole gelo. 

Hotat amar chokh porlo ekta ghorer chobir frame er dik e.  Ekta kather frame er modhe ekta hater chobi. Hath ta kemon udbhot dhoroner, kalche r holdete rong mesano. Hater sira gulo dekha jache. Ga ta  siure uthchilo. Hotat ghorer bhitor theke r ekjon beriye elo. Take dekhe ami obak, e to amar e bondhu. Kintu o to amader sathe jaini ami bhebacheka kheye gelam. Se amake dekhe ekta bas er toiri faka mombati stand niye egiye elo. Ami chilliye uthlam, “Rakh na ki dorkar tor sob jinis e hath dewar”. Se amar kotha sunlona. Besh rag holo kintu hotat kore abar payer awaj sune bes ghabre giye ami palate chesta korlam. 

Kichutei kano j ghor gulo theke berote pachilam na, k jane. Ekta dorjar samne ese thomke dariye gelam. Hotat hawar moddhe theke ekta hath beriye ese dorja ta atke diche dekhe ami bhoi pelam. Re eta to sei frame e dekha sira otha hath ta, ekebare jano amar gayer kache dhire dhire chole asche. Ami kichu second er jonno thomke dariye chilam, sese chenchiye chutte beriye elam bari ta theke. 

Porer drisso, amar barite bell bajche onek khon dhore. Uthe giye dorja khultei ekta lok amar dike egiye ese sei mombati stand ta hate diye bollo “ Apnar bondhu Aniket, gotokal mara gache.”

Bas tokhuni amar ghum ta bhenge gelo. Khat e bose kichu khon bhablam, Aniket ke? Amar ekhono porjonto ektao oi nam e bondhu nei. R kanoi ba orom ajgubi swopno dekhlam. 

Sedin e bose analysis korlam. Ja bujlham se ta holo…

Amar ek school er bondhur sathe onek din dhore chobi tulte jawar plan kore cholechi. Kintu hoye r othena. Dwitiyoto, 14^th February te ekta shooting er practical chilo Mass Communication er jonne, r sei holud hath ta chilo officer ek colleague er mobile er wall paper.

Sob kirom khap e khape bose gelo. Kintu prosno ektai roye gelo........ Ke ei Aniket?