I have to write about Darbhanga and Gaya in some later post but for tonight let it be about my stay in Bihar. From tomorrow there would be no more scared awakenings in the dead of the night hearing footsteps in the empty corridors of my hotels. A drunken Bhojpuri song exactly at 23:30 hrs every night will not serve as my alarm bell. The burning funeral pyres on the banks of the Ganges will not remind me of the eerie stories of my childhood on the journey back on unknown trains (where it’s deemed unsafe to even open the doors unless the train stops at a station). There would no more calling up my cellular operator help desk and feeling helpless. There would no more be samosas for lunch, breakfast AND dinner. There would be no more breaking of stereotypes every single day.
September 10, 2007
Bindaas Bihar
Bindaas Bihar
I have to write about Darbhanga and Gaya in some later post but for tonight let it be about my stay in Bihar. From tomorrow there would be no more scared awakenings in the dead of the night hearing footsteps in the empty corridors of my hotels. A drunken Bhojpuri song exactly at 23:30 hrs every night will not serve as my alarm bell. The burning funeral pyres on the banks of the Ganges will not remind me of the eerie stories of my childhood on the journey back on unknown trains (where it’s deemed unsafe to even open the doors unless the train stops at a station). There would no more calling up my cellular operator help desk and feeling helpless. There would no more be samosas for lunch, breakfast AND dinner. There would be no more breaking of stereotypes every single day.
Farewell Old Friend
As I pack my bags for the early journey tomorrow, I look at my old blue bag, my partner in crime since I left home for the first time. Father Time takes his toll on everything and everyone under the sun and he did not leave my old faithful alone. Be it Singapore or Samastipur, my blue bag has been my signature. It has partnered with me in every single one of my travels since July 2001. But old friend, it’s time to rest now. Time you sat comfortably in a corner of my room with my mom doting on you everyday, dusting you now and again. You know what? You could tell our stories to my envious cassettes and books who miss me as much as I miss them.
Adios for now, I promise you one last journey together.
September 03, 2007
Of Ice Creams, Movies, Cricket and being a Bong
Fudge is available in an ice cream parlour nearby.In the evening I was spoilt for choices. A long awaited screening of Bobby in Zee Cinema, Tendulkar and Ganguly firing away to glory like the old times, I knew it would be a tough decision. But as India seemed to let go of another match, I started swapping the channels, and there was Saptapadi being screened in Zee Bangla.
As much as I loved Bobby, as much as I considered myself a patriot rooting for Team India, the Bong in me could not come to terms with the idea of missing the last 20 minutes of Saptapadi.
A Sunday worth its name. India wins the match, Rina Brown finally gets together with Krishnendu Mukherjee and Bobby and Raju jumps into a mountain stream but continues to live.
Trivia - Saptapadi is my all time favourite Bengali movie. And one of the very few where my dad's views match with mine. We both agree that the original story was more beautiful. It did not show a happy ending. Perhaps in real life there are very few Happy Endings.
Afterthought - When the villain introduced himself to Bobby as "Prem, Prem naam hain mera. Prem Chopra." did he ever think that a couple of decade later, Prem will be the most used screen name of our Sallu Bhai?
Ijjazat
But the memories that we leave behind, can anyone return them to us?
meraa kuchh saamaan tumhaare paas padaa hain
saawan ke kuchh bheege bheege din rakhe hain
aaur mere yek khat mein lipatee raat padee hain
wo raat buzaa do, meraa wo saamaan lautaa do
patazad hain kuchh, hain naa .. ..
patazad mein kuchh patton ke girane kee aahat
kaanon mein ek baar pahan ke lautaayee thee
patazad kee wo shaakh abhee tak kaanp rahee hain
wo shaakh giraa do, meraa wo saamaan lautaa do
yek akelee chhatree mein jab aadhe aadhe bheeg rahe the
aadhe sukhe aadhe geele, sukhaa to main le aaee thee
gilaa man shaayad, bistar ke paas padaa ho
wo bhijawaa do, meraa wo saamaan lautaa do
yek so solah chaand kee raate, yek tumhaare kaandhee kaa teel
geelee mehandee kee khushaboo, zoothhamoothh ke shikawe kuchh
zoothhamoothh ke waade bhee, sab yaad karaa do
sab bhijawaa do, meraa wo saamaan lautaa do
ek ijaajat de do bas
jab is ko dafanaaoongee
main bhee wahee so jaaoongee
September 01, 2007
Washing away the Filth of Humanity - Rajgir
Rajagriha means the house of the Kings. Many do not know that it was the first capital of the erstwhile kingdom of Magadha. It was much later that the capital shifted to Pataliputra. In fact, if some sources are to be believed, this was the Kingdom of Jarasandha in the times of Mahabharata. A journey of around three hours from Patna, Rajgir is one of those places with an immense potential as a tourist spot, but the apathy of the administration never allowed it to be counted as one. First of all, there is a serious lack of good hotels. The two government establishments are a perfect example of the decadence that results out of the apathy. The room that I stayed in was big enough for five-a-side football match while the bath could easily accommodate a double bed and yet, few would be ready to bring their families there. Not because the hotel fails to meet the standards but because the concerns for safety and security are not entirely misplaced.
There is an Archaeological Society of India site at Rajgir, history to much of India’s glorious past and a pilgrimage for both Buddhist and Jain scholars. Running short of time, it was difficult to go trekking on the inviting mountain slopes, but a walk down the near empty roads soaking in the beautiful scenery all around was enough for the eyes and the soul. Here, the stupa of Ajatashatru lies forgotten between shanties that have come up all around. Time never forgives anyone. He was the one responsible for the shift of the capital from this city while keeping his father Bimbisara captive here. However, I shall have to come back again in order to climb the mountains to Gridhhakuta (Vulture’s peak) and Saptaparni, the site of the first Buddhist Council.
Sawan is an important month in these parts of the world, but more about that in another post maybe. Rajgir is also famous for its hot water springs, within the deep kunds of the Laxmi Narayan Temple. And immersed in water in the warm waters of the kund is where the title of my post originates.
I am thankful, Rajgir has been forgotten by the city dwellers and holiday package tour guides. Still it remains one of those places where the poor and the homeless can come without fear for their rendezvous with the Gods. And unlikely many others, here it’s not yet a pilgrimage for the rich, perhaps because the rich will not take the pains of travelling the unchartered territories.
The Kund still pours out the hot water like they have done for ages and people of every class of life takes a dip in that water, believing that it washes away their misdeeds. We live today, in hope for a better afterlife.
The kund quietly gurgles washing away the filth of the human mind. Everyone gets out and goes back to live the life they have always led, safe in the thought that redemption came about without a price tag.
(Picture courtesy: wiki)
Washing away the Filth of Humanity - Rajgir
Rajagriha means the house of the Kings. Many do not know that it was the first capital of the erstwhile kingdom of Magadha. It was much later that the capital shifted to Pataliputra. In fact, if some sources are to be believed, this was the Kingdom of Jarasandha in the times of Mahabharata. A journey of around three hours from Patna, Rajgir is one of those places with an immense potential as a tourist spot, but the apathy of the administration never allowed it to be counted as one. First of all, there is a serious lack of good hotels. The two government establishments are a perfect example of the decadence that results out of the apathy. The room that I stayed in was big enough for five-a-side football match while the bath could easily accommodate a double bed and yet, few would be ready to bring their families there. Not because the hotel fails to meet the standards but because the concerns for safety and security are not entirely misplaced.
There is an Archaeological Society of India site at Rajgir, history to much of India’s glorious past and a pilgrimage for both Buddhist and Jain scholars. Running short of time, it was difficult to go trekking on the inviting mountain slopes, but a walk down the near empty roads soaking in the beautiful scenery all around was enough for the eyes and the soul. Here, the stupa of Ajatashatru lies forgotten between shanties that have come up all around. Time never forgives anyone. He was the one responsible for the shift of the capital from this city while keeping his father Bimbisara captive here. However, I shall have to come back again in order to climb the mountains to Gridhhakuta (Vulture’s peak) and Saptaparni, the site of the first Buddhist Council.
Sawan is an important month in these parts of the world, but more about that in another post maybe. Rajgir is also famous for its hot water springs, within the deep kunds of the Laxmi Narayan Temple. And immersed in water in the warm waters of the kund is where the title of my post originates.
I am thankful, Rajgir has been forgotten by the city dwellers and holiday package tour guides. Still it remains one of those places where the poor and the homeless can come without fear for their rendezvous with the Gods. And unlikely many others, here it’s not yet a pilgrimage for the rich, perhaps because the rich will not take the pains of travelling the unchartered territories.
The Kund still pours out the hot water like they have done for ages and people of every class of life takes a dip in that water, believing that it washes away their misdeeds. We live today, in hope for a better afterlife.
The kund quietly gurgles washing away the filth of the human mind. Everyone gets out and goes back to live the life they have always led, safe in the thought that redemption came about without a price tag.