Sipra's Diary. Mystery of. Story Unrevealed (Repost2024)

 

Sipra'sDiary:  (Mystery Of Story That remained Unrevealed  

                                                            LORD SHIVA   AND  KABA

Long long ago.  there lived  a   Hindu king   in  Rajtarangini , near the valley  of  Kasmir,  as came to be known  at present time.  The geographical map of Hindusthan  or India was very much different from now  Pakistan /Afganitan all were included as part of  India or Hindustan. 

The concept of 'country' was too far to be conceived. The land consisted of multiple number of   kingdoms which were ruled by independent   tribal rulers known as kings .They  were often busy  in fighting  between themselves for power and land  ;  the powerful  king used to  conquest   the  weaker rulers and subjugated    their kingdoms  annexed to  his own territory . But there was   also great friendship  among some  of the  kings; they made their bond stronger by setting  matrimonial relationship.  

This   story  happened long  before  the origin of Islam or Christian religion . It happened  perhaps before four / five thousand  years ago,  may be more ancient .Thus strong friendship  and love grew up between two   powerful  kings :  one was  the ruler of the land near to  the  valley of present  Kashmir while the other was  near  Gandhar , now known as Kandahar. In those days Fair was very common  in all these kingdoms  to attract  not only  crowd    or customers   but  it was mainly  important  for  trading  business; Fairs supported the treasury of kingdom  solid , sound and secured.

Fair in Kashmir took place in autumn while in. Gandhar it was in  the month of  October /November. 

 One year , it happened that while the workers of  Kashmir  were cleaning the  huge arena   to pitch tents for the fair. ,they found a black piece of   cylinder-shaped   stone  of rock ; they digged the soil deep. to reach the bottom of the rock; the bottom  was flat triangular shaped platter   upon which the cylinder-rock rested .  The news reached to the king; the king visioned  a  message  from lord "Shiva" in  his dream  declaring:

  " I am "KamaDeba';   I have come to bless the people  of this  kingdom.;   don't cut the adjacent    peepul tree   ;  I  want to  stay under the shadow  of this huge  peepul   tree. "

  But the people of the village demanded to make a temple, carving a peepul tree on it  under the shade of   original peepul tree .The temple was built and the opening ceremony of fair    commenced with the inauguration of the temple  of  KAMADEBA.  .The temple would remain  closed throughout the year but   be opened  only during the time of fair .

This news spread like prairie fire.  When the fair opened in   the land near  the valley of Kashmir ,   People from far and near    overcrowded unimaginably .  Naturally the trading flourished four times more which added   wealth and prosperity to the  royal treasury. All the future years  also went on gloriously .On the  other hand Fair lost its importance and glamour  in Gandhar ; it began to  dwindle and  plummeted  which    made the king  sad   and unpopular to his   subjects..

It made both of the friends  unhappy . None of them want to loose their  unselfish love  and friendship for  material causes .. .

King of Kashmir  realized  that   the popularity   of fair  was due to the devotional attraction of " Kamadev".

Before it turned  into thorn to poison their  relationship,  he proposed to his friend of  Gandhar  that he intended to  send   "Kamadeva " to his kingdom of Kandahar during  the time of his festival  so that it could   attract crowd and traders  in the fair  .The proposal was accepted  cheerfully by  his  friend .

Now the problem was how to move the huge rock long way ?  The local people  and the king's subjects might become angry if god   "Kamadeva " is dislodged  from the temple  So the Hindu king planned to make a huge   ebony wheeled-chest -box with lock in which great Kamdeva would be placed under the cover  of velvet cloth to be  cautious from  easy sight .   

Thus the wheeled box was easily carried like charriot  in the dark of evening by  some hired outsiders to   the land near    Gandhar    before the opening of the Fair .  It was returned to the temple in the same manner.   In those days communication between people of remote land was too rare to  share . Thus the fact remained unknown to both sides of land except the two kings.

    Fair  of  Gandhar   also became  famous, not  merely for  trading but also  as a pilgrimage for " Kamadeva ".  Lots of  childless  women   became mothers after glancing that mystic Rocky  stone  in the chest box .The duration of Fair was for thirty days It used to end on the day just after new-moon.  

The women, both rich and poor ,   became so much biased in their belief that they spent  there  in tents   eating   only  one time some simple fruits and water .The cause of fasting  might be due to    scanty supply  of abundant  food for huge  crowd, or the belief that fasting (or controlling appetite, physical craving )  would shower blessings and better result! 

The two kings continued their   friendly  relationship throughout their life..   Even   the legacy ran uninterrupted through  several generations for  few hundred years .

 But time never stands still  on one place for longer period.   Following the  natural law  the land changed  its geographical features   within few hundred years  due to   natural calamities like earthquake , land -slide , ice-melting, storm , flood , forest-fire etc; Somewhere   mountain raised peak on the plain,  whereas   green pasture turned into desert ; ,  some river dried  and lost their identity  in  the unknown  region, whereas some new river originated. 

Society in ancient time  was   ruled   on   the basis of  "might was  right " principle.  Powerful   king   won over the weaker kingdom   and sometimes  used to become dictator .   The  new  victorious  king shifted   "Kamdeba'    in   wheeled charriot    near to his   own kingdom  which was   little far  from the previous one . 

Time rolled on changes; changes through merging and breaking; through formation and dissolution .   With  civilization ,  lands  were introduced with different names , races, religiosn and languages . Any  language connected to its  land   had reached to its present stage through evolutionary changes.

It is inferred that    "Kabaa"   of Islam Religion  is  like metamorphosis  form of   "Kamadeba ";    "KamDeba" is a Sanskrit word ;   which  was not easy  to pronounce   for   many. So   in course of time   only  " KABAA"  remained,  shedding the middle portion  of he word                  Kamde-ba.

The stone-god without image in chest-box, velvet cover of cloth , Kaba in Mecca ,the season , pilgrims  altogether  have  much relevance with  this  above story. 

                   CHEST_BOX

      :" KAMA"means Sex.  Deva  =. God.  

         KAMADEBA=. God of Sex

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Sipra's Diary: EXCERPT from pandemic

 

Excerpt From The Novel:

    I started to listen everyday the speech from Gov.Cuomo... to get to know  the situation of NewYork.It was horrifying to know the number of deaths; Each day increase of numbers ; only numbers; numbers with no faces, no names!

 Gov.Cuomo stood  up like a true leader and  national hero in this period of crisis to dust off the air of confusion and to pitch the NewYorkers  ready to meet  the terrible  reality .The nation was in need of such a leader who provides courage , confidence and inspires  cooperation.

"Wash your hands , stay home, stay saf" became  mantra of everyday in Cuomo's speech: 

A novel type of campaign:  Maintain social distance!

        Rachael Emily and Andrea watched eagerly Governor Cuomo’s report at 11AM without fail. They literally grabbed every word of Cuomo. At the end of Cuomo’s speech, Rachael and Emily spent long time discussing on Cuomo’s commentary.

 Rachael :’If Cuomo stands, even as independent candidate against Trump, it is sure he will win with sweeping vote.

 Emily :President Trump announced that he wishes to open all the institutions including schools. after the Easter’ 

 

Rachael :” My god, he is crazy and will make us crazy too! 

It seems the first torture of reopening reminds me to put on bra and panty again! Quarantine has spoilt my civic habit !’

 

 Emily :‘Me too!’Both began to laugh as the pandemic became worse ; quarantine continued from April ,May June july and declared not to open until the vaccine would’t come in the market.

 

The two friends threw their hands and legs up like six month's baby;' 

 

" A-a-a h, what a freedom,  freedom from  the bond of bra and panty !"

We prefer to wild nudity,...........

No,no !not for sex

 but to relax,  

 in  comfort!"

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Sipra'S Diary: Project Workshop: Any Summer fruit

      

                                            (1)     Melon 

The charm of hot season is in the summer drinks ,

Variety of juicy fruits quenches  the thirst  of old and kids

Among all the fruits melon is my favourite one

Dark green giant  in size, enough for the family ,

Melons are summertime delight whether freshly 

Picked or cooled in refrigerator, always delicious!

They are versatile -more than a dessert, also as side dishes

Ingredients in savory salad; even the ripe seeds dried

And toasted make a healthy snack, rich in vitamins.

..........................................................................

  

Sipra's Diary: print. :[ Poetry Scroll, Jax,FL ]2024

 

 #(1 Poetry-scroll,Jax,Fl 2024         

What music the bees murmur  

To the buds ,swaying in breeze?

Inspiring them to bloom and smile.

Can you smile like that, to me !

 

#(2)

I wish to cherish

The warmth of Love

That soothes the heart

To rest as peaceful dove!

 

#(3)

Wake up, wake up kids,

The birds are busy to tweet;

The sun god with the mild-red dress

Peeps from the east corner to bless!

 

 #(4)

If I were an angel 

Hula-la, hula-la la,

I could donate delicious 

Buckets of cake and candy 

For the orphans who live in the tents!

 

If I were an angel,

I could fly high to the sky 

To bring light from the star 

For the war-stricken children in the dark huts; 

Calling to join us in Merry X-Mas!

Come, let us sing and dance-----  

La-la, la, 

Sipra's Diary [:PRINT] Cheery Poems.June/2024

 

                 BUTTERLY : Sipa Roy 

            O butterfly, you are not only

           A thing of beauty

  But also of joy, utility,

Symbol of hope faith and love!

In your short cycle of life

From larva to butterfly

You do awesome job;

By dispersing the pollen

From flowers to create 

Diversity on the earth.

.               #(2)

Title: Bonus of  Aging(M) by  Sipra Roy

Aging or illness is blessing

Though neither

Welcomed nor realized.

With the decline 

Of Physical vitality

Inner world explores 

Spiritual creativity,

We must reap the 

Benefit of  aging .

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Sipra's Diary:[ Re-posted] FATHER"S DAY. 18June/2024

 

                                                     Father's Day   by Sipra

 June 19 ,2023was Father's Day. It was also Juneteenth.   I have     in my mind to write about father but I wrote some other thing .

My father played a great role in my life . I was brought up in large extended family with uncles cousin siblings ; So far I remember my mother was too busy for others to spare luxury time for me ; I never felt any lapse of motherly care because I got too much of it to compensate from the elder cousin sisters.

My father had strong but attractive personality .I learnt  orally all subjects but arithmetic from father  upto grade four . I wrote in my memoir some anecdotes about my father.

I will attach some portion from it .

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

                                             (2)

                                 Time that has crossed by.......

My father was the first hero in my life: A man of very distinctive personality, both in appearance and in nature. He was a great connoisseur of not only academic life but also  all sorts of creativity like music sports and game  (for girls also) which  was  quite  time ahead for him . He was frequently transferred due to  his job  in Railway service ; so we  had opportunity to travel many new places and in contact of new people .  He was a joyful   person .His loud lough. created fountain  of joy and added  extra-flavor in life to any gathering or  festival.

His progressive attitude of western outlook along with blind faith in spirituality and  Hindu religion  blended together harmoniously made our family adorable in the neighborhood, in the town ,whether it was a small insignificant   place or commercially // politically significant town.

He had excellent capability of organizing. In his young age he was transferred to Vurkunda,  situated in Palamou district of Bihar. Palamou was famous for its scenic beauty: high hills, green forest, timber, farming of honey and country-liquor made of 'mou' fruit-plants along with wild animals like fox wolf and snakes; the native villagers were 'santals', mostly farmers and cattle owners.  

 There was neither  any school( even elementary) nor hospital nor grocery shop .But perhaps geographical strategy was discovered  as great prospectus; so  the railway station became important. My father stayed here for  only 1 year. He was the first to introduce there  not only picnic and cultural function; but the greatest festival of Bengal, Durga Puja, Kali puja along with  just  start-up -sports Club ,Book-Club with the small   railway stuffs. The Railway neighbors exchanged books and magazines (which came to be known book-club) among themselves. I was then about four years.I remember my father  used to play badminton (perhaps in winter)and  then telequate (Ring) from February /March for windy weather . My father arranged the badminton court ,bats,net , feather-cork, Ring. Great pleasure of me and my brother was to pick up the cork when it dropped on the ground.;So we waited  outside the court eagerly for dropped-cork . Every time  we  two counted who scored more to 'pick up'! we treasured  the discarded corks to play in our play time with two pieces  of hard-cover as bats., torn from the old and used  hand-writing copies.

In the summer evening this badminton group used to play cards(either Breeze or Twenty-nine) in the frontside  veranda   under open sky until the  call  for dinner came up.

It was 1948/49.. They played  in the hurricane light ;because there was no electricity even in the railway station. I enjoyed the elders' playing because I could stay outside under the sky even after the late evening . 

But soon the fun of  evening game  was stopped Because a calf was taken by a tiger (or wolf) from our close neighborhood,- less than half mile away.  It happened repeatedly 2/3 times. The panic rosed  higher when one of the 2/3 years old kid from the group of playing kids was taken away by the tiger  in the early evening .We heard the noise of screaming mother along with the other women and men  and kids . 

My father with the railway stuff went with log and torch in hand on the spot where 8/9 families lived in huts with their goats ,cattle ,hen ,duck etc. My father took decision that  from next day  four people by turn would guard the neighbourhood   by beating tin and drum  to make the neighbor alert and the tiger afraid. Both. Also there was arrangement to burn  fire  surrounding the huts. All of them accepted the decision . No incidents happened during our   short time stay in that area after it. But we all   kids used to enter inside the house  from the play field before the darkness of the evening set in. Both front door and backdoor  were closed right at  the evening without fail.

 I don't remember whether my elder brothers had any study time at the evening . There were only two bedrooms with L-shaped long covered -veranda which included the kitchen at the end point .

From the kitchen window I loved to see how the green hills at day-time would  turn  dark black  but at the base there were lots of bright flame  like Dewali and occasionally the sound of  beating  tin and drum along the fade sound of tribal song with the flute .

 I longed strongly to go there ; I asked ,

"Ma, will you take me to the hill? I wish to see the opposite side of the hill; I think they had some festival : drum ,flame , vocal music  and also flute."

Ma:   It is more than two miles.We cannot cross that  hill, it is quite high for the elderly also."

"Ma, who has done that fire works like  flame of  bright candles ?"

Ma: There are many small villages at the basement of the hill ; It is not festival at all.  The fire, noise of drum keep the tiger away .  When tiger comes within close  distance they give a stinky smell ; instantly they beat the tin loudly  to alert and awake the neighbors."

 . In the concrete walled back- courtyard  two/three  folding  cots  were spread where we lay after dinner  in the early night to enjoy cool air in summer. Only father's cot was covered with a white sheet and pillow, side pillow. I  shared the cot with father and learnt  a lot lessons orally from father . My elder brothers always avoided my father in fear.

After listening the  tiger's story in our neighborhood, I could not shut my eyes for a moment .I kept my eyes surveying the wall of backyard. 

With choaked breathing and pounding heart remained thinking,

 "what should I do if a tiger comes by jumping over the wall?" I waited when my father would order,

  "hey all get up!, our body is enough cool ; now let us go inside ."  I would breath sigh of relief."

But in the beginning I liked to observe the sky with moon and stars and floating clouds ,  mysterious shooting stars before the story of tiger haunted  me.

                                              (3)

My father was posted for short period to  'PATHARDIH'   small but very significant station before Vukunda.  IT was significant as the first Fertiliser company of India in collaboration of U.K was founded there.

I don't remember clearly much  memorable incidents  except one or two. 

My eldest brother,  (Shyamal Mazumdar ) got his first job at early age of 17.( in 1 July, 1946). He was also brilliant  and talented like my father. He was appointed as a trainee  in the the first Fertilizer Company of India in collaboration with UK.at Sindri, near Dhanbad.  The  the first British GM  interviewed and  appointed   my brother as a token of gratitude for my father's help in saving huge amount of money off the  company from 'demurrage' charge to Eastern Railway. So far I remember perhaps his  title was......  Mr....Frith.  Frith-Saheb was remarkably rewarded by his  company for saving money and prestige which was  in fact contribution of my father. Mr Frith insisted my father to offer ten thousand in cash which my father refused to take out of honesty. Mr Frith was astonished to experience the honesty of a benign employee whose salary at that time was  perhaps Rs 80 to Rs.120 only.

Mr Frith said :  " Mr Mazumdar, I'm really feeling obliged and somewhat guilty; plea-se ask me something to offer you!"

 My father:  "I  knew the Railway laws very well; so I  fought and won the case  lawfully,  while  your  inexperienced lawyer failed . Now it is your term to claim from the Railway for causing harassment  to you,     ( if you wish!).

Mr. Frith:  "Oh thank you ;I don't need that ...to be  entrapped  by court-case again ! ...My 'reward' counts as  your 'due credit'! I will be happy if you allow me to share it with you!"

My father said, "Ok. My son will be coming next week for vacation since his  high-school exam is over ; he is  smart and brilliant ; I will be obliged if you train up him well to establish in future; it will be a great service to me !"

Mr Frith : " No problem; to build up the future career of your son is henceforward my responsibility, I promise ," said confidently. 

"Please send him to me as  soon as he comes".

Then embraced my father and left joyfully. 

My eldest brother, Shyamal, in fact , became like TA of Mr Frith during his training period he  possessed the  immense power of second man  to that big  first Fertilizer Company of India. He was only 17 years old boy.  Mr Frith called him affectionately 'Babu. He was impressed with the intelligence and smartness of my brother.  

He  arranged postal course in 'Sheffield  Engineering  College,UK,' for my brother. 

Mr Frith, very much British in spirit, became friendly with my father and  brother whom he loved as his own family member. He often expressed that it was beyond his imagination that he could meet such well mannered, fluent in spoken English people like my father or brother in this insignificant small corner of geographical map. ..........

        There was no radio, no t.v., no theater in those days ;... life ran on different current, different throb,  from  that of 'now'.

Sitting in a corner of the room in high-rise building of Lincoln center  in  New York with laptop, I'm  gasping  between  a 'nebulea of rushing memories' and 'typing with  snail-speed fingers' : most ideas are either fleeting or vanishing ! 

 My mind  was running after   my parents like  shadow.I dreamt them today early morning .....................Where and how are you Baba , Ma ?

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Sipra's Diary : Excerpt from the Novel"In quest of right bride"[ #2)-Padmini}

 

  [Excert from " IN QUEST OF RIGHT BRIDE"Sipra Roy

  Soon the grandma entered and introduced the  girl with Suraj .

The girl greeted with folded palms .She was pretty fair with large big eyes, long hair up to knee, a symbol of beauty and kindness, typically born to be wife .

Rajdeep  and grandma went out  of the room after few minutes . 

The girl was playing out of shyness with her own fingers.  She was looking gorgeous with  golden  bordered  orange colored  'sari' .

Suraj felt free and  comfortable with the atmosphere . 

He asked  softly,"what's your name ?

-"  Padmini "

      { ...Actually what to ask nest?....(Suraj was thinking)}

 Suraj:         Do  you go theater hall  to watch movie?

Padmini:     Nodding her head (shyly) answered,"mostly in TV at home".  

Suraj         "did you ever travel anywhere other than this place?"

Padmini-   "yes ;  Delhi,  Mathura , Brindaban  and Jhansi .'

Suraj:         Did you ever stay apart from your parent ?

                   She nodded her head .

Suraj:         I stay in America, far away land . Will you feel      

                  comfortable there, leaving parents?

Instead of answering,  Padmini  jumped and screamed horribly as two mice who were playing gymnastics on the ceiling dropped suddenly to her bosom.

  Parents  with Rajdeep entered rushing  into the room.

Padmini  fainted; Grandma cried loudly, "pour water  on head and call the doctor immediately, bring  spoon from the kitchen's shelf ,blood is coming out from her tongue as it is stuck between her teeth tightly;  her both fists were tightly closed , eye-lids were coming out ; A scene of commotion!

 Padmini  was carried unconscious  with 'horror stricken open-eyes' in another room .  The doctor came; 

Suraj  stood up  bewildered; Janakilal  folded his palms ;

"Please pardon us, She is afraid of lizards and mice...  they cause her epilepsy. ......I am so sorry "...

Coming to the car Rajdeep apologized ,"pardon me, I didn't know the girl has any disease."......

Suraj:  Looking  to his wrist watch,  "never mind , let us go to the other place ." 

While his inner   mind  consoled him that he must thanked  elephant headed-god (Ganapati) who  helped  by sending his messenger-mice who actually saved him from the risk of  responsibility of  a deceased girl whole life as wife to make the rest of life hell !

The girl he interviewed  was really pretty and  captured the mind of suraj;  She seemed a perfect woman to make him loving father in future!

  He felt tired and frustrated of interviewing another girl!

    The car was running smoothly; Suraj  appreciated the road of the country which  improved comparatively better than that of his time.

Sipra's Diary: Poem > Mind The Mystery Land

 

      Title: Mind The Mystery land.

  Where  to hide  me, my  mind?

  You always carry me 

  Encaged,  wherever I go,  

  How  far I go!

  Since the spirit of soul or pain

  has neither  latitude

  nor longitude  ,

 Nowhere to anchor you

 Apart or away from me!

 However I hanker on change 

 No change brings true change.

 All are nothing but  substitutes,

 And substitutes ; 

  Constantly  Switching from this 

  To that; like coffee?or coco cola ?

   At last pausing exhausted

    On' Pining  for what is not'!

   All changes bring  merely 

   momentary relief and fake pleasure,

   Which I never desire !  

   Wherever  I move you cling with me;

    Even   to nowhere land !

....................................................................

Sipra's Diary: (Rep). Innocence vs Ignorance

 

                       Commentary     (On Poem: WHY! )                        

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 highlight the negative side of 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?

                                                End

sipra's Diary: ( Rep) -PRESIDENTIAL. INAUGARATION- 2021.........Yesterday, ; Today; &. TOMORROW???

 

 Presidential Inauguration.  Sipra Roy   Words=.      

     We passed    over the cursed year of 2020   wrapped   in  uncomfortable  comforter of pandemic fever.  

Election,  the most important  event of democracy is over ; The inauguration ceremony of the  New President was   celebrated , -all peacefully . The  noises from 2016 to 2020 were multiple Some were old    existing problem :such as Climate pollution,  Global warming  Ice-melting,  demographic change , immigration issue ,  racism ,  Census and apprehension  about Election year , ripple of "Black Life Matters" amidst the pandemic virus  and so on... Finally unprecedented  tsunami of Covid-19  shook the global plinth with fear, with  insecurity and morbid psychosis ! Though the problem was global ,but for America , its impact was too grave to  count on .Because 2020  was the year of  Presidential Election.  

Suspension continued to its pinnacle   starting  from March  onward  with more deaths , more misfortune more  uncertainty. America , though awkward and   awfully unprepared in the beginning with number of deaths and shortage of medical appliances still  handled the problem efficiently , both external  problems of finance , food  job education , and simultaneously internal flow  of emotional tide.    Overflowing human love  and empathy surged the distress of pandemic morphia. 

Internet (Zoom )  performed an enormous  philanthropic job !  Zoom has crafted the fissure of "social distances' by. arranging various activities  and entertainments  and saved  the society from being crippled . Man and machine had never been so friendly to combate   this  bio-warfare with joint effort !Perhaps this pandemic will change our perception as well as our vision about digital age and  AI .  2020 will be marked as epochal year in the history of this millennium. 

Election took place on the  right date with  exact precision  and without hassle .Some undesired incidents happened which were not big issue.  Water of ocean or   flowing river never  remain  calm at the surface level ; there are waves, and ripples, even in rivulet and America is   such a large  country /(continent?).

It surprises me to notice the lack of   American  enthusiasm in the  post-election and post inauguration era. As it  often happens  to  racing participants  who gasp or nearly about faint as they reach near to the "end" sign post in Marathon race.

  Has America reached  the 'golden age' of poetry ?   Hope it is not a lucky lottery of emotional product  or some emotional fever!

A  young 22 year  poetess  Amanda  Gorman has come to the lime light,  to the people and the country......... right time , right person , right words (for climbing  up on the top !) 

Neither the defeat of Trump nor the victory  of Biden has been focussed  as to  the expectation.  Right after the inauguration,  people were about praising   the poetess so profusely , that other events remained under  shadow .

2021 has brought us hope after prolonged waiting . The vaccine to protect against the virus of Covid 19 was discovered ;and also opened   a  new horizon simultaneously :  a  tectonic shift of a globally  reputed capitalist  country, as if , to  the  dramatic land  of  elites singing the victory of a poet ! So ridiculous and fussy! 

  Well, ...."History has its  eyes on us"!   

  But how deep, and how profound?   

  Let us wait and see!

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Sipra's Diary : (Rep). Innocence vs Ignorance

 

                                           INNOCENCENCE vs IGNORANCE

Innocence and Ignorance are not same . But sometime they become so close to each other that we take them in as same . Standing in the cross road or signal of these two terms , I often question myself where is my stand?

...Innocence has some divine smell whereas ignorance emits  foul sin.

I often take such wrong decision  under circumstances (mostly against  own will )and then repent :'Why I was not strong enough to refuse '; why do I end with powerlessness etc. and pretend to comfort myself with 'let it be'!   

"Let it be" is   actually oasis of powerlessness, when everything    around goes awfully wrong,  then it showers self-consolation.

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                                   Madam Curie  

My life runs totally on compromises. I was an avid lover of academic life . Nobody knows still now, that I wanted to be a scientist. ...

...It was a cloudy afternoon. Frequent thunderstorm and lightning sent a notice to stay indoor to all our friends. Nobody came to play .I was in grade six.I was packing my school bag following the next day routine.Then I curiously opened a page of the science book where I read that Madam. Curie discovered radium ;and there was a picture of  sparking radium.

It was black and white picture .The room was semi dark. I sat infront of the opened door which was less dark to see the picture and read . My father had  transferable job . My school life was short and disturbed .  I passed the Board exam as a private student ,at very young age.I couldn't take the science stream  because I did not attend lab as a regular student .I was so sad to know that !I continued my college life with a sad heart ,down spirited...

I don't know how did I get the degree of B.A with honors in philosophy and then M.A.  I listened attentively  to the lectures of the good Prof   and. took the lecture notes .Sadhana and Archana  were my friends throughout my college life  I spent so little time  and labour that they were worried for me .Perhaps they thought it was their responsibility (or liability )  to fetch 'Honors'. for me .They. collected 'suggestions'   and ten -years'. questions -collection (laborious job)!for me. Surprisingly I graduated with (hons). in Philosophy and  admission in  Calcutta University  for the Master degree  on first list. 

I had high   dengue fever during my examination of MA.My brother- brought  me   in his house from the hostel! 

I remembered I burst into tears   in taxi   on my way  as the thought pierced me that I spoilt so much money of my father! My brother consoled me . He promised that he would read  to help me  preparing  for taking the rest exam.  I feel sleepy ; next time   more  to....*****

Sipra's Diary: "Black Lives matter"

 

After more than hundred days, I took an evening walk. Though I was able to take a far-sight view from the high-rise building ,but to use own  physical limbs on side-walk is different from visual sight. My daughter caught hold my hand in the zebra-crossing in such a way, as if am blind or sick. I felt odd and funny.But her  constant running commentary to caution me was little irritating! I decided to take walk by myself alone is better to keep her free from stress,

It strikes me to see the bright erected placards around the entire Lincoln Center with slogan,"Black lives matter"!I was reading each placard silently like 'mantra'. Suddenly it came to my mind ,'why only black lives!' 

All lives and any life is valuable related to the earth. I agree the inhuman police brutality of murdering a black man is a heinous crime in history;I have doubt about that police as not a normal person by observing the way the way he killed!  Some other stand-in polices (or persons) nearby who witnessed passively without restrictions should also be punished.

The African Americans highlighted the incident in such a degree that even the pandemic of covid-19  became less important issue for certain period of  time.They incited  all  records from the  past history of injustice committed to them to stir the violence

.Of course the motivated politicians await  for opportunity to exploit such situation.One particular incident is deployed and mirrored in multiplicity. They forget that the present is not less true or less important than the past.They have survived the turbulent past with courage and bravery to avail of this golden present ;they enjoy the equal rights and facilities in the land of whites  as much as the whites do.

The Black Americans enjoy the honorable seat and position in all portfolios of administrative, legal and judiciary as senator, as judge in Supreme Court and even as President of the country, the highest administrative post for two Terms   What more is expected?

Can it be possible if it were a land of white supremist? 

The word 'rights 'should always followed by 'duties 'hand in hand in democracy. To maintain the law, order and peace a loyal citizen should not foster the past ghost of apartheid (of color ) in mind, either individually or collectively. There are innumerable instances of brutal deaths in Africa year after year ,but hardly any rebellion voice from the African -American is raised to protest; even  most popular talk-show mogul also remained deaf and dumb.  

But here centering any instance, noises turn from mole to mountain easily for the advantage of elaborate freedom of speech! They are fortunate enough that because once their ancestors came as slaves by destiny, so they are. fortunate to be Americans now by law. It doesn't matter whatever their color  of skin says. The truth is that they all share equal rights with the free (white ) Americans whose parents were not brought as slaves.

It is an unwritten principle of politicians that "divide and Rule". This Principe is a tonic or ambrosia in Democratic states where several parties compete with one another and the campaign/game of leg-pulling stays  constant. They use the colour of skin as triumph card for the battle of ballot box. A loyal citizen should not allow himself to be puppet of any party. America is a country of different races,  religion and lands. No system is flawless; all roses have thorns. Still compared to any other place in this  planet  in US the  'unity in diversity' still persists firmly.   

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>.

   

Sipra's Diary: Memoir "Why" ( changed title>GONE WITH THE WIND )

 

                    ( NewTitle):  WHY.    by  (Sipra Roy)                           

Renamed:      GONE WITH THE WIND.  Sipra Roy .

Why  seniors turn like  plants of the autumn,

Slightest sentimental  touch causes

To shed fragments of memory like dry leaves 

Either Piled on  or blown by wind to ditches  

To convey only. message of loss and sorrows 

Seldom the glory  of past or story of romance !

Why glamour  of joy and fun are gone with the wind?

Life is full of wonder and variety of spice;

Memoir often  highlights the sad fragments  

Shadowing  the bright  phases in the dark caves of mind.

..........................................................................................

                                 end.

Sipra's Diary: MEMOIR. [ Re:june,2024]chap-Austin.

 

 Sipra’s Diary: [Memoire, Chapter Austin]

As my husband passed away all on a sudden for the cerebral attack, my son brought me here to stay with him, just after the death ceremony was over. Leaving behind the land and accustomed life –busy with family friends and commitments, I reached in Austin. Everything happened so quickly without least apprehension of my awareness that I could not fathom that the change was as huge as avalanche to me. In India to find a piece of time for sparing on my own hobbies was so precious! Now I had so much time but no wish to do anything. I found that my passion for reading, writing, painting or singing, all were lost. I was so reluctant even to turn on TV switch/music or even any mild sound was also irritating.

At that time my daughter was studying in Ann Arbor, Michigan and we just started since a few months back negotiating for my son’s marriage. 

Now I have to carry out the responsibility singularly to find out for my son and then daughters’ suitable partners. To settle marriage from this far land through negotiation was not only complicated but also risky as both my children took a passive role. To learn the computer for communicating became an emergency. 

My son had “lay off” within a few months of his father passed away; .. days hanged  as long as week ; and week  as month . I slept hardly 2/3 hours. I silently used to spy on my son whether he took sleep;I felt agony if I noticed him awaking ; I felt easier breathing in me  when I heard  sound of light snoring coming from  him. 

I was struggling hard to strengthen my mind.

TIME  was  hard and cruel ; yet so kind when I think that it never  stagnated,  stopped  and take rest for a  single moment; flows  only down ward.............Looking back I found this page in diary,  as  if,  viewing  down the memory-land from the height of a  flight........

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Sipra's diary[. Re>june2024]

 

Mocking Fish

It was our Sunday delicacy in lunch,

A dish of  butterfly whole branzino fish

With cauliflower carrot and green peas.

I was happy to save money by bunking restaurant

With added cost of taxi tips and time.

Though fish in WholeFood are well cleaned

Still as typical Indian lady I can't but put again

Under the tap of kitchen sink.

I put the open mouth to let water pass to clean

Through the tunnel of opened mouth!

As ill luck it would have been, the tongue of fish was seen

I reviewed second time , to become sanguine,

Obviously it was as big as a human baby of one month!

Repulsively I tried to shut its mouth 

But no doubt ,it was too obstinate to do.

I put it on the platter in hot oil and  as I turned it 

The silly funky fish sprang out its longer tongue

(Reminded me wanton boys of drop-out school-gang)

The mockery of dead fish from the frying pan 

Thus spoilt to enjoy us the fun of Sunday delicacy in lunch! 

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