Sipra'sDiary: "AmeriKalidas "

                           AmeriKalidas  #-26

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The story of  Kalidas is famous not only in India but throughout the literary world, In fact, most fabled stories of western literature were translated into English and then German from the original  Indian language of Sanskrit.Stories of “Panchtantra”  (Vikramaditya) and dramas of Kalidas reached the Western world through the Middle East.

 

Kalidas, India’s greatest Sanskrit poet and dramatist was born in Gupta Empire in 5^th/4^th century CE and flourished during the reign of  Chandragupta  second who adopted the legendary title  Vikramaditya.

The most famous story about the life of Kalidas in his early life says that he was an illiterate idiot and was a dumb fool to start with. It is an interesting story about how he became an enlightened poet.  

 

A long long time ago there lived a king in India near Ujjain. The king had a beautiful learned daughter named Vidyavati. The princess was very much proud of her knowledge.  The king invited learned handsome princes one after another in his court for his nubile daughter. But the daughter was rejecting them all, on the ground that they were inferior to her in wisdom.  She also humiliated them openly in court. 

Her condition of marriage was that the groom ought to be superior in knowledge than her. She asked each one some questions which they all failed to answer. The king became worried to find out a suitable bridegroom for her.

 

All the princes who were rejected and humiliated became angry. They were planning jointly how to retaliate against the princess. One day they saw on their way a handsome young man was cutting the same branch on which he was sitting on the top.

To caution him they cried out, 

“Hey man, stop, otherwise you will fall from the tree!” 

The man asked, ”Why”? This man was Kalidas!

 

The conspirators thought that it was the perfect opportunity to take revenge.  They trained Kalidas some tricks to counter the princess. They decided to send a marriage proposal for the princess with this idiot to put an end to the pride of the princess. They praised Kalidas as the wisest of all, but presently he had taken a vow of silence; so he would not take part in the debate but would answer in sign language. The king was convinced. Princess agreed to marry; as Kalidas proved to be wiser by following the instructions of the conspirators blindly.

But very soon vidyabati came to understand the reality. Being infuriated  She drove Kalidas from the palace.  Being heartbroken  Kalidas tried to suicide by drowning in the river. But the goddess of wisdom appeared and interrupted; Blessed him that he would be remembered forever as one of the greatest poets in the world; Blessings of the goddess came to be true.
Kalidas became great poet throughout the ages (like Shakespeare) and he was one of the nine gems in the court of Gupta Dynasty, which is known as Age of Golden Renaissance. 

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At the end of the year when I think the events of last year of America, I remember the story of  Kalidas in his early  age .  

**Is America is going to be Kalidas who was cutting the same branch on the top of which he was sitting?   Some of the mass actions, reactions agitations decisions are almost like cutting the same branch on the top of which the prime interest of America as one nation rest secured. Random use of democratic  power  by random people  of the country going on to be  misused .

 

Hope Goddess of Wisdom doesn’t take sleeping peel; She will appear in time to bless and enlighten the Nation to the right  path !.

***************************************************NB:The above story illustratesis not only the  question of "Political consciousness" or "sense of welfare" merely  but of self-security as well as national security!

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Sipra's Diary: "Even The Tiny Worm!"

 

       EVEN  THE TINY WORM .

Relaxing under the shower of washroom

 I casually glanced a tiny worm –of -centimeter 

Moving by the sidewall slowly, 

Like a well-fed gentleman

Taking  afternoon walk  in the  spring season.

Neither head nor tail could be identified from its body; 

But I  guessed its head by  the direction 

It was proceeding.

Within few moments  I recognized the worm--

 

I saw it in“60 minutes’ of TV show :

Their habitat two hundred miles deep

In African goldmines 

Where the scientists flocked, not for gold brick,

But to collect from the layers of the mines 

This specific specie

Who survived more than five thousand years, 

without air, water or sunlight! 

The scientists were captivated 

while collecting the sample of worms 

From the wall of mines   and wondering:

How do they proliferate without food air or sunlight!

“The worm  may 'proliferate!” startled me: 

 'so I must kill it.’ 

All on a sudden like a marathon participant 

It darted and vanished;

Somewhere in the thread-like line 

Between floor and the wall! 

 

I was bewildered :

How the message of my perilous thought 

Was received by the tiny specie? 

 We are covered in the atmosphere

 Under "One Consciousness",- truly matters !

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Sipra's Diary : Poem> Literary Citizenship

  Literary Citizenship.

How   long   I  will be a refugee

 Roaming around the periphery

  Of  literary garden   for  entry !

Seeking  asylum under some  shady tree;

Or a corner to join   similar souls like me!

Is there any hope to be welcomed by elite  angel

Or to get shower of blessing from Athena !

Surely 'nope nope, nope'  is the only answer. 

i

With electronic crown  adorned  in AI  devices 

 Athena replies with sigh "I am no more goddess!''

Pointing to her crown,  "IT  is your New  goddess!

 Online Whole-sale market is  getting ready to bless 

Whoever  will afford this crown on their  heads.

The new Digital village will be founded with lava 

On  the   archaic cemetery of  creative  sepulture.

                                                                     Sipra Roy

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Sipra's Diary: #....."Netaji Subhaschandra"....& Calcutta bookfair.

     " Adesh chilo, Delhi Cholo,

         Delhi mora Joi korechi ,

         Aj Tumi Kotha  Netaji!"

We grew up breathing  in  the elixir of patriotism ; The current flew   strong & powerful throughout our school life....,. 

My eldest brother of 13/ 14  years old,  who tried to sow seed of patriotism in     neighborhood  children team .   He taught them marching and patriotic music...... 

 My brother led the team of children to march with the music below:

 #. KADAM KADAM BARAYE JA,

      KHUSHISE GEET GAYEJA ,

       " YE  JINDEGI HAI  KAUMODI."

.......I was then too young to speak distinctly ; I  used to  sing  the last line  from my sister's lap  

        like....      " e-jing- b-jing- korbo-ki"!

All others made fun of it .

My father was posted in  HAZARIBAGH,,Bihar.

All the wealthy and elite class people of Calcutta [. so called 'Babus"] used to come for "change"in the healthy region of Bihar ;  Hazaribag , Ranchi Modhupur Giridih,  Jhajha, Jashidih , shimultala, Deoghar were  famous  among them. These wealthy people had their own buildings with large garden having variety of fruits and flowers  There were  gardeners,   care-takers  to look after the property. Throughout the year the children entered the garden for grabbing fruits by jumping over  the wall until they were chased by guard  to get out ! Sometimes the guard remained cool ;because the fruits were too abundant to be consumed by the boys.It was a time far from the hotel business flourished ! Most Babus had luxurious arrangements in the building ,not less than any starred hotel.

My father became close friend with some of the "babu" family. I mentioned  my father's story  in my google 'Blog' account. But now I will add a new story. 

Netaji's family  also used to come every year in Hazaribagh. I don't know whether that was their own house or rented !

They used to invite my father's family in  the 'yangna,'  performed at the end of 'SatyaNarayan   puja. It was perhaps  about 1946,  before India owned independence.

When the most invitees left, my mother asked Netaji's mother about Netaji curiously,

"  Do you think Netaji is still alive?"

Netaji's  mother  smiled sadly ; then shifting eyes from curious face of my mother  she replied,  

"Sure, he is alive very much to me!" 

Mom:   [in whispering voice] "may I know where he is now hiding? I wouldn't tell anybody!"

By the time my father came to call my mom. He started  asking common formal conversation with Netaji's  mother; before leaving .

Dr. Sunil Basu [ Netaji's brother] treated my brother and saved him from critical condition. My brother had  typhoid and Septic mumps  simultaneously. Dr. Sunil Bose operated him in our house .  He brought all his surgical instruments necessary for operation and asked my mom to boil water .  

He himself came near the kichen for more boiled water . My mother was frying some "pokora / chop." 

He sniffed and asked my mother  to taste some warm fries . My mother offered him with tea . He asked some more fries.

Operation was successful but remembering pain  my brother used to abuse  random to the Dr. but the Dr smiled and never minded .

He used to visit our home almost everyday of his stay in the town.       I heard the story from parent  I also heard that Netaji fled  from Gomoh station , near Hazaribag . He was seen lastly in Gomoh , India.

Then in Germany under the shelter of Hitler. But he remained mysterious  in the heart of all Bengalese  like a painful lump !.....   Time to time rumor of "Netaji has come"' ignited the Bengalese in new enthusiasm!

Slowly time healed up the rumor in silence under  multiple complexities! 

Calcutta Bookfair -2026  knocked to remind India as well as the world how much love and  adoration the Begalese still bear for Netaji . 

Thanks to Kunal Bose for publishing the book in the broad arena of the Book-Fair!

Hearty  Congratulations on behalf of  ever-alive-all- patriotic hearts!

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Sipra's Diary:< Published > "A busy Street At Midnight"

 

A Busy Street At Midnight

 

It was  after a Friday late-night  show

Waiting on the sidewalk to go home.

Waiting more than half an hour 

Increased my worries as the crowd became thinner.

 

A busy street! long black deserted and sleek

So different to look at midnight!

Stretched almost straight and then 

Bent to be lost in invisibility

Made it so feminine and mystic!

 

The hole day so much load and traffic it bears

Instantly reminded me the tired face of my mother!

I felt to embrace her and wish let her  take

Sleep rest of the night, undisturbed by any invader.

 

Feeling became so vivid and vibrate in me 

That street remained no more street

Nor even my mother,

It absorbed intensely with me!

I forgot my impatience or worries,

And what for I was waiting! 

Until my daughter’s voice startled me, Mom!’

Holding the opened door of  ‘cab
Looking back I slipped silently

In the cab that that rolled towards home 

Nor through the road 

But sliding on my supra -sensuous  being!.

Sipra's Diary: (Poem) " INCREDIBLE. SPECIE"

                                "Incredible  Specie "

 Human race campaigned four billion years

 With many more lethal viruses

But did not extinguished like dinosaurs

Or some other specie like mammoth or platypus

He still reigns over the creatures in the universe;

Then why in Covid-19 should we be so anxious?

 

Time leaps over the heaps of pandemic -corpse,

As if, passing over the bough of cherry-blossoms;

Utterly impassive of human traumatic conditions.

 If we can’t get rid of worries and fears of present virus,

Chariot of Time will carry us, defying all obstacles.

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Sipra's Diary : Success >. A blackhole.

 

Success!

All of us in this mortal world crave for 'success' , die for achieving success ! We don't think of the flip side of success. How much hard it is to handle success,..to digest success.

First success pushes to leap for more and then again to jump far more and then  to infinite 'more'& more ....,

That is why most  super -duper -celebrities doom in drugs,  in  frustration, even suicide . They feel alone in a lonely icy cold planet.

Starting from Plato, Michael Angelo, Leo Tolstoy , Newton , Madame Curie, Beethoven , Abraham Lincon, Emily Dickinson Steve job, Sylvia Plath, Van Gaug, or Michael Jackson great thinkers or artists  ended life as sad and lone persons.

It is better to have some failure like Robert Bruce and to get to be inspired to experience   success from failure through trial and error from the spider.

Failures leave ways to move forward whereas success has  either dead ends, or enters ultimately to blackhole!

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