Sipra's Diary :LOOKING BACK [. memoir]

  ::  Looking back…    19th Jan 2019 

                

I  have crossed a long way of the journey in life; Looking back, even to sketch the outline of life will be as long as mini-epic; perhaps lives of many of us are almost like that.
My life contains neither horror of war nor victim of sex-abuse; Neither experience of torturing or negligence of step-mother or father nor a victim of terminal illness; neither divorce nor any secret extra-marital relationship. Such a plain life without pungent spices leaves little space to write striking ‘memoire' to get a projection of interesting fiction. 

 I think my diary is a kind of proxy to memoir; but though my outer life was devoid of any stain or glory; my inner-life was vast and enormous as from my early stage I was a psychonaut; my little mind was full of small wonder and queries, most of which remained unanswered.

Recently I have joined a memoir writing class. Next week I have to submit.I am thinking from where to start. I took a telescopic view of my life and decided to take a back-step journey: beginning from ‘now’ to ‘then’. I divided my life -story in two parts. The greater part of my life spent in India which is lengthy and present part of life in this foreign land last five years. 

I came here just after the funeral ceremony of my late husband was over.
It was  a time of March //or April 2001,  just after the funeral ceremony of  my husband was over.
My eldest brother with his two daughters came and escorted me to leave to the Dumdum airport at 8 PM. The Flight was at 1 AM. After taking boarding pass  and before joining the passport queue,I stopped a while to look back: The three of them were leaning against the visitor's railing.---my 70 years' old brother and his two daughters, Rinku and Jhumu,I could not see their faces clearly but I felt their deep concern for me from the distance;...One last glimpse; I remembered last advice from Rinku, my beloved niece." be cool but alert! We waved one another; Then I joined the queue.                                 


..........After the formalities of passport and papers, I sank into a sofa. Alone. With closed eyes I surveyed my desolated apartment ; I try to memorise  of several things: Whether  I have locked and  disconnected the  cylinder from the oven ; switched off the main box of electricity; closed the windows and all the taps properly  and so on;  the day  seemed to hang on me  as pretty last six months ago  long ago ;Being  sure that I did everything well I opened my eyes.  The lounge was crowded. I felt numb. The crowd seemed to be some shadowy entity from some unknown planet. I sat thoughtlessly. I tried to pull myself  from fading-away feeling

......Remember? Four years back I was here with my husband, going to the US for the first time to visit our children. What an amazing zeal and curiosity were there! and now? ..no feeling. Neither grief nor joy   Even no fear or nervousness. After the announcement, I boarded in the Singapore Airlines. Surprisingly in the same place as the first row. like the before I stared vacantly out the window and saw the deserted viewing lounge. I ruminated on my first experience of US flight. The enthusiasm as I watched everything with hungry eyes,...how my husband made fun of my curiosity and teased me for my ignorance with comments,  'I want to see what will you do without me if you are left alone'. He was showing his pride in being a frequent international flyer. I was really novice then. 

Now I was alone to take this journey across the globe.The plane started taxiing on the runway...

  The deserted viewing lounge, airport office building, cargo building passed away one by one  from my sight and then in a blink of an  eye a the innumerable city lights  in the vast, endless darkness  were fleeing from  my vision; as the plane left the ground with a jolt , it triggered a queer feeling in me :" Oh God , I am cut off  from my land!" 

The plane soared higher and higher till I could see no more lights of the land I  belonged  so long.   and I asked  to myself ,

     --" why  am I going?"...............

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Sipra''s Diary : Poem> "April-Fool"

                         APRILFOOL

In early stage  of my school-life ,

Often  I was confused and  duped 

While some of my classmate cried out,

“Hey,a wasp  hovering over your head!”

 

Holding the bag on head 

Immediately I screamed !

Group of classmates jumped 

And shouted “April-fool,April-fool !”

I understood nothing!

 

Throughout my school-life I remained 

A super-Duper model of April-fool

Both in school and in neighborhood. 

Though I tried hard to be smart 

And alert, to be tricked by friends. 

Protecting me for any foolish act! 

.

Starting from my first school 

Since on each April I was a gullible fool !

Now I Search  the meaning of 

Celebrating such hoax as festival 

Throughout the world !

 

When did it origin?

What was the historical background?

Perhaps some story will be found 

By hunting the fertile  ground of Internet!

 

As ‘Month of poets’ let April 

Be ranked on honorable pole

By eloping or replacing the annex“fool”

Saving April from slandering or defaming!!

 

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Sipra's Diary:[posted-Nov 2023] POEM#. "Ode to the Transformative Journey".............

 Hi 

I submit this poem    to the prompt  of Rumi "Let the beauty .....      

  :Ode To The Transformative journey:  by   Sipra Roy

Beauty  is not always 'given'

But our mental projection;

The real "beauty" of Beauty springs from 

Creative mind : that's  why the poet sings,

'Half-created beauty' which any object inherits.

 Green sooting leaves  of the spring 

Bring joy; but the spinning dry leaves in the wind  

Around the barren mother-plant 

Have  also  other shade of beauty; 

It is our perception and love that  add  colour 

To the  great and small that god makes for all,

If  we  embrace change and  add love, even  

Hell  is transformed into adorable Heaven! 

Dipped in the ambrosia of perfect perception.

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Sipra's Diary: [pre-posted ] Tyranny of good habit -4-6-2026

 

Sipra's Diary :;Tyranny of good habit.  [nov3/2018]

I wrote  how 'good habits'also sometimes,turns to be a tyrant. I woke up early at dawn, try to do meditation, some free hand exercise, a little  morning walk, an elaborate shower;to use fresh clothes after shower which is quite a luxury here and the problem is that I can not make myself free from this grit of routine.

The day I spend the morning on relaxing out of routine, I feel lethargic whole day ; why can't I take a laissez-faire? 

I saw my grandma spent last 30/35 years just eating sleeping gossiping and enjoying  nursing like regular oil-massage in body and feet ,she passed away at her eighty. 

But my mother had to remain active as my brother and his wife both were busy doctors. But I have no such compulsion.My mother used to say that engaging in work keeps body and mind fit.My mother-in-law used to say 'work means worth' otherwise  life is meaningless; empty without work. Perhaps I am encompassed with all these  sermons tightly.

Now searching 'google' has been my latest bug,  added to that grit of routine. However hectic is my Sunday, if I don't see article of David Remnick from  Sunday 'archives', the day seemed to be on fasting; it is not exactly his article but the 'links' given by him are  very selective and unique.In september, just at the beginning of Fall session the article "School"pulled  the memory of my school life with a jerk.

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Sipra's Diary : ( Poem +Comment)." New York"

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About the Poem

 

 

This poem itself  seem  a great metaphor for me . 

As a newcomer  to this land  I felt myself  a lonely sailor in the vast unfamiliar city. Many a sleepless midnight, I looked the deserted avenues; through my window  and  stared at the high rise  buildings whose structures were lost  in the dark ; but the windows  from these buildings with their blinking lights conveyed speechless message which touched the spirit that metropolis bears. I  asked  myself  who is ‘Ancient Mariner’,- me ,or this Metropolis itself  ?

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 NEW YORK:   Sipra Roy

Metropolis, you always remind me 

Of the thirsty ‘Ancient Mariner’ 

Who sailing across the sea

‘Once wailed, ‘water, water everywhere 

Not a drop to drink’.

 

Here also incessant waves of people after people

But all are a nameless mass of crowd;

Not a single heart to beat for you

Or an eager ear to spare some moments for you!

Nor a thirsty eye looking for you!

Metropolis, yet we all love you!

 

What aptitude you owe to magnet

This vast crowd enchanted in you!

It is something more than the mere

Stakeholders to draw fame, fortune

Money or dream; or change of destiny. 

Though the ‘city of light ‘ never closes its eyes!

Behind the buzzing life a lonely soul cries;

By nature you tend to drift inward.

Standing like a monk on the bank of Atlantic

Letting the Hudson worship your feet;

You are divinely indifferent to what the city seeks,

You rarely care for name, fame, love or hate                                    

Everything is left on Time who awaits .

 

Metropolis! Are you only care-giver of this mob !

Who of this vast mass come out of your womb?

Who will be there to lit a candle in your tomb?

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About the Poem

 

 

This poem itself  is a great metaphor for  me . 

As a newcomer I felt myself like a lonely sailor in the vast unfamiliar city. 

Many a sleepless midnight, I looked the deserted avenues; through my window  and  stared at the high rise  buildings whose structures were lost in the dark ; 

but the windows  from these buildings with their blinking lights conveyed speechless message which touched the spirit that metropolis bears. I  asked  myself  who is ‘Ancient Mariner’-,- me ,or this Metropolis itself  ?

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Sipra's Diary: DRAMA>> "Drollery of Pickpocket"

                                           ( Drama )

Title : Drollery of Pickpocket. :Time:12' to 25' Minutes India./. TIME : 1965.

Genre: HUMAR

 Protagonist :Gargi. 

Antagonist; Pickpocket
Other characters : Two friends of gargi , Few college students (both girls and boys and others).
Venue : ...... Public double-decker bus-stand.  + Ladies'hostel
Words=959// page =7 *******************************************

The Narrator :
Calcutta was the #1 One overpopulated megacity of the world at the time of 1960s . It was hard to take ride into the bus during office hours in any mid- stoppage, as the buses became full at the starting point. From 9am to10Am. morning and 4:30--5:30 Pm. was the peek hours .

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Act One Scene 1
Gargi with two other friends came outside of the university gate; 

Shenoticed some of their known friends taking chat excitedly:

 Someone suggested ," Instead of waiting it's better for us to take a walk for home; perhaps by this time ,we could have reached home safely.

Gargi. asked them: ' Hi, do you know how long the last bus left this stoppage?"
They( crushing their teeth) said in chorus voice ,"just now!

 Ju--st now two overloaded buses, successively like tweens, passed by us.

without halting the stoppage ! The conductor waived his hand to mean he had no other way !".
Gargi :" Looking at the watch , it 'sjust 4 o' clock! She thought it shouldn't be so ,!

A commuter : Today there is a mammoth gathering in Esplanade for Election campaign. So some roads have been blocked ; Only two buses are available from here."
Gargi : O, I see .

Mallika screamed :"voila , some bus is coming !" to get ready she jumped down the road from side ways so that bus couldn't cross. Gargi : " Lo! you seemed to become a patriot , a crusador for getting boarded to the bus !".......

Just like warriors in army, they somehow boarded the bus... . Another fight was waiting for Gargi ;because she hast to drop also in the mid way .

( Scene -11)
Reaching to the hostel Gargi was very excited to show her new purse just bought on the very day, to her roommates . But she searched and searched inside the big bag, for carrying books and copies , but in vain .
Roommate (Looking eagerly ) commented : A-ww-h, it'sgone , now it must be owned by the wife or girlfriend of the pickpocket.
Gargi sat sadly . She looked tired : 

"you know, I bought it from the fancy showroom of the College Street. It attracted me from the showcase ; I entered the shop and bought that exotic purse which was Quite expensive for a student . But I needed some new to replace the old one; ( she ,as if, justified herself for being extravagant ) I emptied my old shaggy purse for that new one .Then I Put my two library cards of the university ,another one of the British Library ,and 3 copies of passport sized photo into the  new purse but not a single penny was left for the purse ! Because I spent all the money for it.

While putting the new purse inside my side bag safely , I imagined proudly that it would be 'Owner's pride and neighbour's envy"

 ..... Roommate snatched the conversation: HA-,Ha ha! 

" Pride has now crowned to somebody else's fortune......

Other roommate added : the thief must shower a plethora of abusing words for you, for not having a single penny and that too , a lady's purse which would be of no use for him ! You have spoiled his toilsome risky effort of the day !

Gargi became irritated with this jokes . 

She murmured sadly "it was too uncommon to find the second one ! She had to bother for issuing new library cards for having access to the library But she was really anxious to think of her address and photos which evidenced her personal informations; If the pickpocket belonged to gang and tried to exploit her ! She heard Calcutta was a notorious place for professional pick pocket gang who are trained ( in special institute ) under gang leader. She was worried
It made the roommates also worried ,they came near her to console , sincerely .
Kajol, one of the roommate ,Said ,'my uncle is chief inspector in Lal Bajar Police Station. Let me report him the fact and ask for his suggestion !

( Scene-111)
After passing two days in tension, Gargi got a parcel delivered from the Post office . She opened it curiously and screamed in surprise and joy to see her lost new purse ! She hurriedly pulled the chain to open all the folders and relieved to see everything in place But she found out an additional envelop in one of the folder. She unfolded the paper which was actually a note for her :

"Hey, penny-pinching lady, don't you feel ashamed to move with empty purse, wretched than a beggar? I have to spend even the postage from my own pocket! Such a disgraceful instance in the biographical history of pickpockets in the world !"

" Gargi commented emotionally,
" Thank god ! honesty is not eloped still from this earth !
Kajol grinned and winked eyes to other roommate to say ,
' no god to thank at all , my friend ! It is your "photo"left inside the purse !
....Hmm, what to expect next ?”
I am sure very soon a  extra-juicy "love letter" from this Roam-antique- fellow will come addressing you :
Hello , Heart-picker [or broker/breaker ?] , ..........
Gargi blew the rolled newspaper to her...
--" you mean,  silly creatures  !'. . ..

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Sipra'sDiary : " HIDDN POWER" &. "DAY & NIGHT"

 #(1) Hidden Power   W=32 //L-8

  We are as kids 

  Remain clasps-in-buds,

  But immense power 

  Stored within us .

 As soon as we wish 

 To open our fists,         

 The dazzling stars 

 Come out, bewildering the universe.

#( 2)  Day And Night     W=59//L=10

Each day before the sun sets

Illuminating the horizon in the west,

Consoles the earth to come back 

With the blessings for a new day.

We must accept joys, sorrows equally 

As inseparable part of life ;

Following the rules of day and night:

Must pray peace and prosperity,

To make other's life richer!

By bringing smile and cheer .

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