Sipra's Diary : "FUN ON MASK

 

W=892           “FUN ON MASK     

 

 

Mark is long time good friend of my brother who lives in Canada. Mark  lives in Munich.  He is  very much German in spirit and culture  and food . My brother teases him by addressing "Hi  Mr.Germ -Brahamin!" But at the same time he was curious  to know  about eastern cultures ; specially  about Indian   elaborate marriage ceremony.

Once he came  to Canada in my brother's house just before the lunch time, for consulting  with him about some  of his business related problem . My brother informed him  that he had to go for attending   the daughter's marriage- ceremony of his intimate college friend .He had to leave home  at 2 pm.  So next morning he would be free to discuss about the problem .  

Mark : "no problem ! I am free to stay in your  majestic guest -room "and laughed warmly.

 

My sister-in-law announced , "Please come to the dining table, otherwise 'puri 'will  be Cold."

My brother stood up for dining hall and requested Mark to join for lunch. with him .

Mark : " I rather wish to accompany you to Indian marriage ceremony, if you or your  friend do not mind anything about uninvited guest".

 

" Really ? It will be a pleasure for me and my friend, both . Please come to the dining hall and have  some coffee at least."

But as Mark was sipping coffee, he behaved like sniffing dog and asked "what are those fluffy ball-like staffs? It smells so good that my mouth is full off saliva ;"

 

Brother : "The smell is from the chicken curry and not from the fluffy ball which is "puri". But chicken with puri is fantastic  combination;"

Kiki,my sister-in-law , brought another plate with the items and asked Mark to  taste it . Mark finished the plate   speechless and in one breath with the comment "fantastic,   really fantastic!" 

  

My brother said laughing "Now you loose your virginity of German Brahamin."

 

Mark asked Kiki the recipe of chicken and wanted to see how to make the fluffy ball of flour, if possible.  Kiki was happy for  getting high opinion of her cooking  delicacy. As more batter of extra flour was left, so she  gave demonstration to Mark . 

 

Mark was following every activity of Kiki without dropping his eyes. As Kiki dropped a piece of small  flat round "puri "in the hot  smoky oil of "Karai" //(metal bowl), it began to  rise up high to take the shape of ball ,Mark went backward few steps briskly  in fear , as if it might  explode, with exclaimation, 

"  o gosh , terrible, terrible !"nodding his head .  " I doubt my wife is sure to divorce me if I want her to cook this. Rather  I will come here  to taste it."

 

Kiki and my brother both exploded in laughter. 

 

 'Now get ready to attend the marriage ceremony where you will get opportunity of grabbing plenty of puris and lots of gourmet items which even gods of western world in heaven ever   dream or hear!"

 

They reached little late . Mark lost sight of my brother for a while as he had some responsibility to supervise the party  meticulously : It was grand royal banquet with warm Reception arrangement.  

The bride was Bengali; daughter of  Mr Basu .Bridegroom  was Italian boy: inter-continental marriage .So first in Bengali rituals  under a Hindu Priest  with Sanskrit mantras  and then  according to Christian Religion in Church . The Hindu way of rituals was too lengthy, because the bridegroom  wished all Sanskrit mantras to be read Perhaps he was prejudiced. that  lengthy process made the Indian marriage   strong and stable  .But Mark was impressed and happy to fulfill his long cherished wish to attend the Indian wedding  party. And the food ?.......  language is too poor to measure the satisfaction of eating.......simply divine!

 

After the banquet Mr Basu  congratulated  Mark for attending the ceremony . The  crowd became thinner as the most invitees left. Mark with   my brother's family  came back at late night. Before going to bed   they spent half an hour  with chatting and drinking  wine. 

 

Mark hesitatingly asked "One thing isn't clear to me why the Bride's father wear  a long 'diaper'  in  the ceremony? .......  Otherwise I enjoyed   everything.

 

  My brother took little time to grasp  and then burst into laughter.  

 

" That is not diaper ,it is called "dhuti"in Bengal. I will show you   tomorrow my own photo as bridegroom wearing similar long-diaper; it is ceremonial marriage -suit in Bengali custom. "

The above story happened 25 years back.

 

But very recently some student  journalists came back to Washington from India . They watched in TV  news that  India was declared as epicenter of Covid-19. .

 

Those journalists divulged a novel news;

 

" Why not? it is their own fault, own ignorance .We surveyed the pilgrims in KumvaMela  taking bath  in the  sacred river of Ganges without keeping social distance .

More over, lots of  nude 'sadhus'. didn't put the mask to cover nose and mouth,   but  extremely lower naval waist . we  were shocked and surprised; we asked an adult  stand by Indian guy why these nude sadhus didn't put on the mask  on right place of  face in spite of  wearing  to protect  penis?  The guy threw us a mocking glance  and  Colgate styled laugh exhibiting  all teeth.

"Thats not face-mask but  called "Nengti" sadhu's nengti.! 

 

                             >>>>>>>>>>>>>>

 

Sipra's Diary : Future of Literature. &Comment of Chaplin !

 

 FUTURE OF LITERATURE &  Comment  of CHAPLIN 

   Words=459                        

Autobiography or Memoir is written on the basis of one’s ability to collect memories, as one needs to retain or mark the past events and images.

We passed through variety of experiences and covering the whole gamut of emotions in life: Joys and sorrows, love and hate, loss and gain.

 I take part in several memoir classes of seniors.  We share our stories with one another in memoir classes. The focus of most seniors highlights  the negative side of  aging life : Such as disease(like cancer),death of beloved near and dear one, neglected and tortured childhood, painful delivery of baby or loss of baby, unhappy marriage ending in divorce, victim of rape, racism, survival of holocaust and so on. These are really hard part of life which is too painful to forget.    ................But isn’t life something more?

    Why fun, humor, at least  experience of occasional stupidity that are experienced in everyday life are so rare to  share  with  the readers to make  them laugh? Bright side of life  remain often shadowed in most memoirs. 

Chirle Chaplin once said,” A day without laughter is a day wasted; laughter is the tonic, a relief from pain."                                                        

    Really, life is a tragedy when seen in close up, but become comedy in long shot; So better to view life not through microscope, but telescope. Memoir is a kind of psychotherapy. Sad moments loose the edginess through catharsis; it becomes metamorphosis in the process of long gap of time !

    In my perception literature is turning to be feminine in gender; female contribution in poetry, fiction, children’s book, and specially cook books and  memoirs  is greater/ larger than that of  the  counter gender. From the latest trend it seems to me that library and bookstores will be flooded with cook-books and memoirs(of the female), except  academic books for the schools and colleges. 

Is it the future of our literature?

It is global pride for the greater participation of women due to the development of  girls’  education..  But there should be balance in every field.‘Law of diminishing returns’ in Economics is not desirable in literature at all.

Then what causes this imbalance or discrepancy?

Is it that interest of male is declining   in literature? Or, piles of cookbooks and personal memoirs are occupying/ (invading!) the intellectual field? In the battle of quality Vs quantity, the quantitative progress should be controlled; so that it does not   supercede  Quality.

It doesn’t indicate the uprising of literature. 

Under the mercy and blessing of internet, number of writers are  growing  more than that of  readers. In this age of Podcast, Instagram,  spotify etc.  people have neither time nor interest  to read lengthy pieces . 

        Literature is same as  the Garden of Eden; Whom to pray to save it from being occupied by weeds and parasites?  To Athena or  to Minerva? or Saraswati  or to surrender  at the alter of AI  or ChatGpt?

                                                                         ****************************

 

 “ Really, life is a tragedy when seen in close up, but become comedy in long shot; So better to view life not through microscope, but telescope. Memoir is a kind of psychotherapy. Sad moments loose the edginess through catharsis; it becomes metamorphosis in the process of long gap of time !

    In my perception literature is turning to be feminine in gender; female contribution in poetry, fiction, children’s book, and specially cook books and  memoirs  is greater/ larger than that of  the  counter gender. From the latest trend it seems to me that library and bookstores will be flooded with cook-books and memoirs(of the female), except  academic books for the schools and colleges. 

Is it the future of our literature?

It is global pride for the greater participation of women due to the development of  girls’  education..  But there should be balance in every field.‘Law of diminishing returns’ in Economics is not desirable in literature at all.

Then what causes this imbalance or discrepancy?

Is it that interest of male is declining   in literature? Or, piles of cookbooks and personal memoirs are occupying/ (invading!) the intellectual field? 

In the battle of quality Vs quantity, the quantitative progress should be controlled; so that it does not  supercede  Quality.

It doesn’t indicate the uprising of literature. 

Under the mercy and blessing of internet, number of writers are  growing  more than that of  readers. In this age of Podcast, Instagram,  spotify etc.  people have neither time nor interest  to read lengthy pieces . 

        Literature is same as  the Garden of Eden; 

Whom to pray to save it from being occupied by weeds and parasites?  ...To Athena or  to Minerva? or Saraswati  or to surrender  at the alter of AI  or ChatGpt?

 

                                                End

 

 

Sipra's Diary: POEM "Bliss Of Time"

 

 : BLISS  OF TIME                             lines=30

How silent was the noon of Austin in summer , 

 Like inferno and more lonely than midnight of winter,

 Taking backward journey of  twenty three  years   

 I wonder to remember how I used to take walk

 At mid-noon in the neighborhood of ‘Shroeder Park’ 

When neither a squirrel nor even a bird was in sight!                        

Or sometimes I walked aimlessly towards gas station…              

 Seldom some car appeared to pass over by side -road

Some times I needed to enter nearby a rich neighborhood

Named as 'Balcones wood', with my rolled on suitcase 

Full of dirty clothes. I was not legally supposed                              

To use that washing machines as being outsiders 

But fortunately never questioned by any security guards.            

 After the 9/11mishap, I always noticed outside the gate

A police-van busy in listening continuously radio message ! 

Worried me to be arrested by police, for encroaching   

Another laundromat! My son lost his job in last lay off.               

He bought a house with   defective washing machine.                   

I was parceled to daughter, studying in Ann Arbor, Michigan.     

All these misfortune showered one after another.                          

Within short interval of my husband passed away!                          

It was hard to imagine how a brilliant rank holder                            

 

Could lose job from a Company, pitched me in sorrows           

As curse of time was over, I forgot the depressed years:            

The inferno of summer, or snow-white plants in Ann Arbor   

Looking as eerie ghosts, turned as trauma of a narrator!