Sipra's.Diary: "Sivaratri &Grandma's death " [Old Post].

    Today is "SIVARATRI". A religious  day  in India spent by many devotees in fasting wholeday, spending  the night awake with singing dancing , story-telling, fun-making  etc!

My daughter announced that she would  celebrate Sivratri on Wednesday with restricted diet instead of fasting !

I asked with surprise ," how do you come to know about it, when  I even didn't remember!' 

" O messages from my Indian friends are constantly coming from last two days!' 

As a psycho-naut  I sailed in memory lane and remember that my grandmother passed away on this day.  Her age  was 88. Last three months she was suffering in senility. Doctor used to visit her everyday and predicted that her life-span to be maximum ten days. But she was alive about 29 days more after the prediction.

On the day my father told my grandma ,

"  those who  die on this auspicious day of Sivaratri, they will go to heaven directly.I will be reading whole night  'Chondi' for you. to listen at the interval of each quarter of night ."

Grandma: 

" Really, my son, would  I go to heaven directly?

She glanced at father with her bright face  and  large eyes. 

 ....She was very much afraid of 'death'.

Just two days ago of sivaratri I was giving her foot -massage. As the evening sets in,  there was power cuts, room was semi-dark . I was about to leave her for bringing  a lamp. But she hold my palm tightly and said harshly,

"you shouldn't leave me alone now! Stay here embracing me !" 

--" I am going just to bring a lamp for this room."..........

  "No, you can't go leaving me alone;  then  she glanced frightfully all around the room raising her head from the pillow and gazing towards the glass-window whispered me panicked, 

"Open all the windows and door;  death is coming, [gasping] death is coming to take me ........pressing my hand more and more tightly.........

For a moment  I was terrified to think if she stopped living with my hands locked in her palm!...

 I wished to run  away.....

right at that moment  room was lighted simultaneously with chattering voice of my mom and  aunt!....

.....I felt so relieved ! 

....But for that  day  I found no shadow of death at all on her as she looked so fresh  with neatly combed hair in donut and milky-white dhoti.

My father called grandma at every quarter of night for her reciprocal response before chanting "chandi". 

But in last quarter of night she didn't respond . She remained silent!

My father gave call to the doctor .  The doctor checked her pulse and confirmed   that  She passed away.   All uncle-aunts and family members  staying in the same compound  crowded in our house within 10/15 minutes.

I was there to supply hot tea everyone. I noticed  grandma's peaceful face looking brighter compared to other day; Her body was still warm & soft like others !

Her death ceremony was celebrated with grandeur ...almost like wedding ceremony !

It happened more than 55 years  ago.

Long after,  it often came in my mind what was the image of 'Death' in the mind of my grandma !

....Was it  something like demon with large teeth and sharp nails? Why I didn't ask her about her  idea of Death when she asked me to stay with her because Death was coming to take her !   

 Why  was she afraid of staying or confronting death alone ? 

Did she think that she needed to fight with Death who is much stronger than her? Did she think me to join in fighting  with Death?

or,  it wouldn't enter when somebody would be seen with her ?

She suffered a lot with the fear of death; 

She looked divine when she  actually died . I think she had her last breathe peacefully  listening  hymns together with strong belief of going to heaven !

Grandma was married at the age of only 7.Her parent's house was  in the same neighborhood of the village . She was loved and adored by the villagers as she was the last person living of  her generation. So everyday senior visitors used to throng our house to entertain her with memoir and also her favorite snacks which were restricted by doctor.

 After her cremation on that  day of  Shivaratri, uncles villagers came back home in the evening . They were sitting scattered in the  back yard lobby and ruminating  anecdotes from  memory.

 One uncle commented with a sigh, 'her death marked the end of One Generation of this village!

             Some queer incident happened at that night !

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Sipra's Diary. Poem>. "SPIRIT OF LOVE".

 

      SPIIRIt Of LOVE  

What is love ?

The four syllables  spin the universe eternally  like a top ! 

Is love pain in pleasure, or pleasure in pain? Or both.

 In specific  segment of age , is  it a hormonal disease!

Teasing , itching , pulling between two extremes :

Sorrow and joy!

Art, music poetry would  never be born without love !

Tragedy in literature throughout ages  impress us deeper.

Love adds  the fragrance, beauty and color of  Flower

In any relationship  it is the invisible bond of power !

It can crack the rocky heart or melt the snow  .

Without love life on earth is  arid desert , an inferno!

Love is  followed  by hate, jealousy,  and  physical lust, 

Causing  conflict  between romantic couple to break up!  

Love remains fresh unless nobody tries to own or possess. 

 If  force  comes  to overpower , spirit of  love evaporates ;

Theme of all epics spins around   love, heroism and betray

Tragedy impress us deeper in literature, but in reality

It torn life  apart;  'Our sweetest memory tells the saddest story' 

Enjoyable in movie and theater ,  nor in reality! 

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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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