Sipra's Diary:AM I Nobody? March 2023 ( "Memoir" For D-Lasting impressions....)

 

                                                                   

                                                   AM  I  NOBODY?

I have lots of projects in my mind to do; but at the end of day I am frustrated to see the barren land of my creativity : spread as  an arid desert  with cactus ! ..  Writing gives me joy; but my comfortable  'used-to -relationship' with pen and papers has been tragically swapped by new interest with computer . 

 Sometime fantastic ideas pop up in me during  the time of taking morning walk or shower,.. cutting vegetables etc ; I wanted to caged them ,framed them ! But as I  feel a tug of war  between contradictory thoughts in the mind to decide where to write: in traditional pen and paper or in internet, the ideas become either fugitive or lost;  because ideas have the speed of pegasus while hand moves  on keyboard  as slow as a snail. 

When I started to writing blog in the Google to improve my "typing" speed,  I wrote them for my own pleasure . I joined some creative writing class where many more were published authors; they displayed their newly published books with hard bindings and attractive cover . I became quite impressed but at the same time turned myself into  fire flies; I started spending much time to learn computer than to practice writing .

I began to take free computer classes in senior center and  nearby library. But most of the seniors were interested  in social media ,games ,photoshop, e-mail writing and not Microsoft words . The instructor was much busy with them. So I didn't learn  Microsoft properly . In the trial and error practice of "Online Submission "  I lost several pieces of my writing .   I applied  in several  small  publishing houses as an assistant editor //or  a  freelance writer /,  but  get  no response. I tried to   calm and. console myself.....................

It came into  my mind  that   any famous writer as 'new' begins his /her journey as  unknown ;  Perhaps  Emily Dickinson  wrote a  poem which  (became famous and a niche later on )   in her early period of poetic journey ; 

          "Who are you? .....are you nobody, too?"

 YES! .......I am nobody ;...........

 but I want to be somebody.

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Sipra's Diary : March. ,2023 BROKEN. HEART . (M) (Hamilton read)". Modified

                      Broken Heart  

Starting from the youth to the end of life,

All thirsty hearts wait to be pierced 

With some sugarcoated arrow in the heart .

Life  has no charm without romance; 

It is better to be wounded and ooze, 

Rather than a barren  life  to chose.

Oozing heart caused by failure love 

Inscribes in blood long-lasting  

love - lyric  and melodious music 

That lingers long to  inspire  sensitive spirit.

An arrow piercing the the red heart

Symbolizes the vibrant juvenile love  

But random display of  Valentines' cards

Makes the image funny, naive and ridiculous!

But how heart can be broken ?

Is it of glass,  metal, or plastic?

It is a lump: soft and sensitive .

Is the 'broken heart' an utter literary fallacy?

Or a metaphor of intense emotion,

Popularly known as  depression.

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The theme of the poem focuses on the show-off or the plight of 'True' love: which is  gasping  under the piles of displaying cards;  it   prompted me to compose this poem .

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Sipra's Diary: (Print) .(Fragments of memoir)new Gramophone

 

                     GRAMOPHONE-Episode                           :    Sipra Roy

Both of my parent came from pretty wealthy family but they themselves spent in financial crisis throughout their life since I became aware of financial condition. 

My father had good job  in RailwayThey suffered   financially. because my father took extra responsibility of the whole family  not under compulsion but  by voluntary will  and being   offspring of wealthy family they had the habit of spending  liberally, often out of budget  .

My father was foodie. himself.  He   also  loved to give treat  occasionally  to people .So far I remember   besides the large number of members,   lots of guests used to come our house. For a long time I even ,didn't know that they are not any of our relatives having blood relation!.... 

 My father was a great connoisseur  of music, He  himself was  also a  good  musician.  We have gramophone . My father used to invite guests whenever new records were bought. It was like a function at home ;music- loving people used to come ;enjoyed the music with snacks ;we the kids played around the events. Generally we were inside the house before evening ; it was great to see and play with friends in the  late evening!many a  time I saw myself sleeping on the 'galicha' near the silent gramophone  among my father and  remaining 2/3 persons. 

I heard from my father  later , rather to say, the story of  his lamentation,  thus :

In 1930 he got his third posting in Modhupur railway,  a cute  salubrious town of Bihar. The Upper class people, chiefly from Calcutta crowded here every year  as tourists for weather and as a  health- resort . The railway neighborhood resembled a piece of wealthy village -town of London  and occupied  mostly  by the white British people . London-based  record company HMV( His Masters Voice )wished to  pitch  in British-owned Calcutta.  Fred Gaisberg, assistant of the inventor Emily Berliner along with William Barry Owen  came   on a mission to capture Indian Music. The first recording Studio Company was founded in DumDum of Calcutta; the very first Record  company in South East Asia. Some big shot  officer of the company used to come as tourist in Modhupur and came to be close friend to my father Some more renowned persons( who came as tourists ) happened to be close friends to my father. My father arranged musical program in Railway Recreation Club, which had  really gorgeous auditorium. Famous artists like GauherJan Bibi , Juthica Devi,  Beena Devi etc ,used to come and perform. My father also sang as local artist in the function . 

Either William Barry /or some other powerful  officer of the company requested my father to record his music. they  were some (classical based) religious song;"Modhubanme Radhika "//  "Mere To girdhari Gopal".My father was blown away in joy; he informed my grand father cheerfully that he needed to go   Calcutta for one /two days for recording .My grandfather burst out in anger and gave him warning not to keep any contact with the Company   who recorded  the  voice of the women who were socially degraded /outskirt.                                My  father became extremely  sad  as his dream of recorded artist was nip-in-the bud   but he obeyed my grandfather.  In1930s    there was neither name nor fame  of HMV.  He didn't record but he enjoyed in practicing music  regularly  in the morning and evening prayer  up to his last stage of life!

By the way, I saw once Beena  Devi in her old age taking chat with my father after the function was over. She was  very fashionable. and beautiful, even in her old age ! Her religious songs  were heard often in the morning program    in  All India Radio, Kolkata. 

 

***'Gramophone 'was a great wonder to me. I had no idea about the science of this music-machine . The sound of music from a super-shiny wooden box without the presence of any person was utterly mysterious to me !

Out of immense curiosity I asked  some of the elders  how and wherefrom the  music was pouring ?

He/she answered seriously that a little fairy/angel  was there who  performed.

I asked,"I never saw anybody;  please let me see her/him once ! how do they managed to enter inside this  small  box and how were they  able to get out?"

"They are tiny and invisible !"  I believed that lie for long time .

"What they eat when they are  hungry?"I asked. 

" Hey  crazy baby!   Fairies are never hungry ;they live on nectar which is needed only once in a year!

I asked my sister whether it could be true.  My elder sister also convinced me so!

But I always stayed nearby the gramophone . I blocked my  cryptic eyes with palm ,waiting  with a hope if the mystic fairy slipped to be  invisible someday by mistake  and caught  hold  into my sight ! But at last, I always fell into slumber in sheer despair.

                                      

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Sipra's Diary :(. EXCERPT from D-Workshop Broadway Drama : on "MONOLOGUE" )

                                                            Title:  Monologue     Sipra Roy

Michelle: ( present age 73)

Sitting with a photo frame which bears the   group   photo of  High school   students  on the last day of graduation. when I  was 17 years old and most of the group were   almost  more or less  of same range.   It was late afternoon when the last rays of setting sun through the window illumines   miserly a small section of  the half-dark studio room ;

 Sitting  on the  corner of  her  bed  near the window ; there are some more photos scattered  on  the bed beside her and a beautiful large album  which resembles a piece of art .She looked lost in  the photo frame  and roaming in her memory lane ;her  cheeks bears  dry stream of tears .She was looking at her friend ,Sylvia who left to the other world few hours ago.

 Michelle:(.  (Monologue):>>>>>>>>>>(in Flash-back...)

   .......Sylvia , you too left me alone  in  this vast  world , while I came back alive from nursing home   after  critical  heart surgery! You   were always runners up to me , not only in sport and game ,  but in study , drama , music or  art, but   in every field   in the  game  of life you beat me , kick me .....Gazing at the photo of closely knitted four   friends I was  roaming through my memory lane throughout the day ; we four were really soulmates ;we had never  any quarrel.

   ..Remember? The class mates nicknamed us with  a funny title "Misy-patpy"seaming  the   four names together  'Michelle, Sylvia, patty and poppy' like a  bouquet. 

Look , how bright we were,  eyes of each were full of dream& hope glittering   like glowing stars.You and I started our school life from   nursery  in Midtown Brookline  High school;  Patti and poppy joined us in grade nine.   We were the prominent "so-called "Pop students in the class.  We get attention from teachers as well as from students . The first stage of  our  initial life spent well .  I was strong in literature; my aim of life was to be writer-cum -film director, Sylvia excelled in photography  : you took your passion as your  profession too.  you got job in some trade magazine as  assistant photographer. Patty became  a very successful entrepreneur   of event-management , and Poppy ?

 She   always wanted a handsome rich man to marry and to be a loving wife and mother ; she used to say that  she was raised by single mother and felt tired   and pity of hardship of mother's working-life  for herself ;She had no wish to get job  . She did not    even take admission to any college .She met her future husband first in the Brooklyn Garden during Cherry Blossom festival. Poppy was 'black beauty' of our school.  she looked like a statue of black-stone ; some  boys had  crush on her and called her  as beautiful as Nefartiti. 

Poppy got married within six months of her High school  graduation  with  the man of her first love . Remember ?   how much we  the 'Misy-Patpy' enjoyed the ceremony  in Charleston as bride's maid ! Her husband was the owner of some four star luxurious hotel of  Charleston . We spent a whole week  at the insistence of the couple ! 

Yes,  She led a happy married//conjugal life  for 11 years with two children .Then she fell sick with slow fever and caugh.  She neglected it initially ;  her husband forced her  to visit a doctor .She was diagnosed lung cancer  and  in quite  advanced stage!  I  visited  her  last only five days before her death. ...I spent with her whole day in the nursing home .  As I got ready to leave her she  burst into tears  embracing  me and said whispering ,

"do you know(struggling  a long  breathe) that   not  the  disease but what  pinched me bitterly --is that  Mark  is dating    a. woman  who is a Dr of this nursing home  as he came to know  my days are limited..." a second wave  of louder cry made her body shiver like seizure. 

"Please pray god to take me  quickly, and take care of my children  She released me and looking straight to me in tearful eyes vomited  from poisonous voice ,

" never believe a man nor his love!" 

I took my flight with sad shrouded mind .All. these years I wished her children on their birthday . They were sent to boarding  school  after their  father's  second marriage. I used to wish them in their birthday and Christmas Day ;but I stopped it as Poppy's husband didn't like it .

Story of Poppy ends in tragedy.

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After the completion of   High school , I went  California with one year scholarship for  the film institution .I made  a documentary  of 18 reel. on water-pollution.. and the potential ways how to  control  it .I was producer cum director and author , editor . The documentary  was  sent to Venice and won award. I worked as assistant with some good  directors   to learn  their technic   and also filmy experience.  Then I took great risk to make  a  film of my own . 

That was a great blunder for me .

I wrote the novel on the background of  Greek epic Homer ,titled as "Voyage of New-age  Ulysses"//or,("Return Voyage of Ulyssys").The theme of my story was  the journey of a struggling  life of a  young   ambitious brilliant student .  My  protagonist was a student of  anthropology in Berkley  university His  traumatic journey of life  was against his torturing alcoholic  father to rescue   his siblings  and    his   stepmother who was  a  black woman with three children from the previous husband . Like Ulysses sailing   alone across the the sea Mark, (my protagonist) struggled hard   throughout the   youth to win happiness to his ill-fated  step-mother and to bring up all  his siblings to   grow up as wise dutiful citizens.

(  Continue)

Sipra's Diary: GRAYWOOLF"S "FREE". LITERARY SALON: GRAY WOOLF ; nov 28/22

      

                        GRAYWOOLF: SALON........

                    After all, Salon is nothing but shop

                   Whether be it literal or  material,

                   It is a premise for marketing 

                  And the bonding  between  buyers -sellers

                  Here  "free"  access--

                  Is  nothing but aliases  of

                   Camofleging  diplomacy 

                  To  show own  greatness,

                   Nobility, to the rest  .

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Sipra's Diary: Kitchen. to Cosmos./. Nov28/22 )..>>(Printed)

                                From KITCHEN. To COSMOS.  Sipra Roy.

The  embryo of social life  in the first  cosmic  earth  started from the hearth. The hearth to hold and collect heat from fire ! Dry logs ,leaves and branches from forests were collected under   some shades or in front of caves, or might be inside the caves!  Two flint stone rocks needed to rub to produce fire which helped to ignite the leaves and logs .  Discovery of fire was a giant step in the process of Human civilization;  a promotion  from eating  raw flesh  or fish  to taste cooked food   which savors to  create saliva !    The day time of our ancestors was spent to collect  raw materials and afternoon was to put   the raw food in the fire. The  community of hunter -gatherers sat around the fire place during the  lengthy cooking time  which was as simple as only to roast the hunted animal ; But it was enough delicious  to them in those days .

I can see in my mind's eye the joyful impatient kids and children around their mothers asking how long to wait more !

The community leader shared the food  cheerfully with all members .

There was no hoarding  system.  Lives run on daily labour; A simple life-style,  but hard livelihood!

But with the time,  present appearance of modern kitchen has   been quite different .Modern kitchen is full of   attractive kitchen  gadgets .Variety of crockeries, ,food items , delicious spices to taste, refrigerator to  store food fresh .But still. hearth has remained  the center of main point of interest , whatever ultra-modern changes its  'form' takes : As. the ancient hearth has long been replaced by  electric /gas oven , solar-oven  microwave, OTG, heater etc, etc.

Importance of Kitchen is growing more and more with the refined taste and  sensitiveness   for   growing health  consciousness.

The twofold power of tongue ,    poison & ambrosia!      ( Like snake it is bifurcated, though not physically)   one for taste, another for language ! 

Any festival of any clan or land  obviously weaved or knitted with  the kitchen . Food is no- more to pacify only the 'hunger'  physically   but rather for  psychological satisfaction. 

Thus  simple hearth of kitchen  has  expanded  its realm as  culinary Industry .Taste of tongue accompanied with cluster of human brain buds in the modern civilized society, ignited  the culinary skill to its quintessential form! 

On  the other hand, it became  very much commercial , a business for profit .There has been set up  a nexus between the food-producers,  shop-keepers, restaurants  doctors & nutritionists,  beauty-salon cum body-shop(such as skin-laundry, hair-planting) , health magazines whose  aim is  to make profit  by exploiting the  human  psychological  weakness about health  and retain  long-lasting youth. 

From the impulse of modern trend it seems to me that the warmth of indigenous  private kitchen may be  lost  its existence  to  restaurants   for serving and satisfying the taste of   elaborate multi-cultural  global community !

Future kids may hear with wonder from parents that...... ' once upon  a time our mom or grandma used to prepare food for us upto our taste at  a space in home- named as "kitchen!"

Kitchen, simple hearth,  etc,( the maternity place of HOME) will decorate the bookshelf as fable -story only !

 

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Sipra's diary: Lunar Lake"

                                  Lunar Lake :   sipra Roy

Lunar/or (Lonar )Lake is found near Aurangavad, India. It is assumed that about  47to 52 thousand years ago  due to the fall of a  comet on earth this big   crater was born   which.   turned into this lake by rain water  The chemicals of this lake are same as the chemicals of the  rock from  moon. This is why it is known as LONAR lake.

The color of the water was   green in the beginning but now it is changed as pink or reddish. :    The scientists. think  that may be for red. algae,  or change of chemical particles.

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