Manush manusher jonno (Humanity needs humanity)

  Today this blog will be again another journey to my childhood and to my schooldays, it is not that I don’t have any story in my recent life, there are plenty of them Happy, sad, mesmerising and some of the stories are I am not much proud of. Anyway, today’s topic is not about those, rather our focus will be into something fundamental which we are forgetting nowadays, another way to practice the act of humanity. Even me, who is writing this blog is guilty of the same crime.

starting from a story that began from my home in Assam, for some reason I will be using first characters of those names I am going to introduce to you now.we were and are still living as a traditional joint family for some extent. I am talking about those eras of early ’90s. We always recruit people to have some helping hand for our daily chores .whether it is about gardening or cleaning or cooking. In those days women of the family suppose to get some help from housekeepers. I couldn’t remember how and why she(we call her “Phua”, aunt ) was recruited, My mother told me that she came to our home, with her mother, when she was a teenager and got married few years later. I can recall, she(Chhaya Phua) was staying with her three children *Cn, *Pn and *Sn(looks like elements from the periodic table, but I can’t help it.have to withhold the name unless they provide the permission ), her husband(*Rm) was a fisherman and was staying in a hut nearby the Brahmaputra river. Anyway CN and Pn are older than me and Sn is younger than me. I can remember my family has never had discrimination. I was allowed to play with them and spend time with them as long as I would have my home task completed. They were also studying in some school then. Three of them are now well established, they have their won home, Cn and Pn have their own family and maintaining a modern lifestyle. They are like an older brother to me. So the reason to tell this story is that I want to convey one thing is that, in those days, one family might have extra members those who were not the part of the family but later we would count them as a family member. if they(CN, PN, Sn and their mom) were not staying there in our home, then their life might say some different stories. That time the total member count of my family was around 10. And our family members never had any issue with some extra head-counts, probably in those days, it was so natural to help people in need especially if it was related to someone’s education.

*Cn=Chuni,Pn=Puni & Sn=Sunny(Three brothers)…Rm =Ram lagan (Their father)

The second story took place at Alipurduar.In the year 1995, I moved to Alipurduar, from Dhubri, Assam.I took admission to MC William H.S. School to class 5. I was staying at my maternal uncle’s home,(Mama bari). The family members that time

Were Grandfather, grandmother, maternal uncle, aunt, little cousin sister and two other members who were not family members as such. One person is Shanti Didin(our version of grandma) and another person is Mina Masi(maternal aunt), both belong to Oran Tribe. I can still recall the father of Mina Masi would visit every day and would do some gardening or would have some Adda time with us with tea. And in the evening he would come to watch the news. He was previously working as a labour of some tea garden and was enjoying his retirement. He has two sons Ram and Khudiram other than daughter Mina.Ram mama would visit every day and would do his homework with us. I heard he was supposed to stay there with his sister Mina, but probably because of the restrictions and rule he chose to stay with his parents who were living nearby small PWD quarter(or maybe it was not a quarter, I am not sure ). Mina masi was my friend and elder sister, I could share anything with her, stories, incidents anything. I remember I would like to go to the ration shop with her because I might get to eat some street food. She would know lots of people around the locality, that means lots of stories to listen along the way toward the shop. She was studying in Alipurduar College. after her graduation, a few years later Mina masi got an in Municipality. And only after her marriage she left my maternal Uncle’s home. Actually, grandfather, Subodh Ganguly wanted to educate them by providing shelter, food and creating an environment for study. and Didin(Shanti) was there as a housekeeper, she is still stying there in that 1st floor at the old wooden two-storeyed building. Now, the grandfather and grandmother are no more. Anyway, Ram mama, brother of Mina masi is also doing some government job at Alipurduar.when I moved to Alipurduar in 1995, that time the financial condition of my grandfather from mother side was not that much good, and my Maternal uncle recently had just started his Homeopathy medical practice. But the financial condition did not become a constraint or obstacle for them to help other people.probably in those days it was kind of social norms.

     But Nowadays we seldom see this kind of example to help people. We are too busy to with ourselves, busy earning more and more money for ourselves only and even not thinking about other people who need help.we are living in a nuclear environment, forgetting the advantages of commune system. Yes, the Commune system has its disadvantages but those not as much as the nuclear family system has, and this (nuclear one)system applies only to developed counties.

      So the time has come to think about these things again, the Covid19 has given us a few pointers , few indications, we should use it wisely.

150 years old, they said

PIC:-The place where I spent my childhood, relatively new construction, wrote a few lines to express my feeling 

This is the room from where I started my journey, my school life. this is the room where I fought for my life twice because of typhoid and malaria. This is the place where I started to make my friends before moving to West Bengal for education purpose. Happy and sad moments, captivated my mind. Now they will remain only in memories.

Pic:-almost 150 years old Grandmother's room.

Pic:-almost 150 years old Grandmother's room. this door will now become the entry point of the memory lane.

        Pic:-almost 150 years old Grandmother's room.Almost gone.

 This room of Grandmother was working as a safe house or shield for me. when I did anything wrong or made any mistake, the only way was to take refuge to "Thakuma"(Grandma), she would shield me from scolding and beating. 

  there was a wooden almirah along with other age-old furniture, where Thakuma used to keep a bottle of Hojmola(a tasty digestive tablet).

we would demand one tablet after each meal.there was a big old Iron chest, which would require two men to open the lid.it was also the room of grandpa (Thakurda)...He died when I was in class 5, was staying at maternal uncle's house at Alipurduar, West Bengal.

impermanence is the only constant thing. if something is created then it is bound to be get destroyed. 

along with these, rooms of my uncles will also be gone and we will have a new modern building for all of us soon. But the memories that I have, the experiences I've gathered, it will sometimes make me nostalgic, sometime that past memories will haunt me.

When a Parker pen Costs more than an iphone

This is a story of a PEN which once became a part of my life and stayed with me until I made a blunder.

it was a true story which started from. those school days of mine. My school days were kind of cumulative experience of good and bad incidents, it is common for all(“Chakrabat Paribartante Sukhani Cha Dukhani Cha”), I guess, the only difference is the degree of good and bad we experience. I used to stay at my maternal uncle's house we call it "MAMA bari" in Bengali. and we children used to get pocket money from relatives visiting the house. after their stays, at the time of sendoff, most of them would give us 5-10 rs, which was a large amount considering the economy of the '90s.

     So I was saving that money to buy things like an electronic motor or other science-related things or to buy my favourite thing which still helps me to put down my thoughts on paper, in french it is called "Stylo or Plume", and in English, we call it PEN. I was studying at Mc William H.S School, a Bengali medium school, and nearby the school there was a stationery shop there, a centre of attraction for school students. We would gather at the shop to collect new pens, pencils, stickers and a lot more things after school. There I first saw it, inside the showcase, the parker vector. By that time I heard about parker pen, those were expensive ones.so we use to buy Rotomac, Reynolds, Cello, Montex etc pens. But this one was different. 

I went home and counted my saving found I still needed Rs 10 to make it to 100. I had to wait a couple of months and the day arrived. I went to "Das Paper house " the stationery shop and found the pen is still there or maybe it is just another one. I can recall I was studying in class 10 , and the Madhaymik exam was knocking at the door. anyway, I bought that pen and kept it for the exam. The Madhaymik exam went well , I wrote every paper with this pen , which was a ballpoint one.

      next chapter started when I was promoted to class 11 as everyone. I choose Science stream for H.S exam. It was a difficult two years for me and then the exam day came, Those 6 hours of torture ,1 hr break in between , was making us all nervous. but I had my friend, the Parker vector. So somehow I was trying to clear all the paper,2 papers each day.and it was a horror film , a nightmare I was living. anyway, the H.S exam also went so-so .and the pen did not let me down , despite my unfinished physic 2nd paper syllabus at the time exam, I was able to earn enough marks to apply for the Graduate school. Though I did not immediately enrol myself to any course, actually I enrolled myself to zoology , but never attended any class. I wanted a break from study.

         After 1 year I enrolled myself to the math major course , and another chapter began. A three years course , which I took 4 years to complete, again for almost no reason. anyway this time also the pen was my saviour.I, an atheist , that time, became little bit superstitious about that writing instrument. I would feel comfortable when it was with me , I would become anxious if I found, it was not in my shirts pocket. anyway, I got a graduation degree in Math(Hons) and that parker always stood by me along with those supportive friends. I am lucky to have that friend circle.

        Then I decided to pursue a Master degree in computer application. I went to south-Bengal from north Bengal and that pen was still with me. My 3years MCA course went well with the assistance of "Vector". The JOB search started at that time and clearing the written interviews were challenging ones, and I got a job in C  for developing Algo trading software.

          It was the month of March 2016. I and my friends decided to do our first trek to Sandakfu. Meanwhile, I switched companies and switched my domain to iOs app development. So I had to buy an iPhone 4 for testing the apps. We set the date on our calendar, marked 17th of May to start our 6days journey to Sandakfu from Kolkata. It was a three days trek. On 2nd day of the trek, I lost communication with my team, I was too slow to reach the next checkpoint Kalapokhri.some of our baggage were sent by a jeep.I was walking without any communication instrument as my phone was in the luggage and it would be no help even if it was with me as there was no network along the trek route. but I forgot where did I put my iPhone, I was using it as a camera. anyway I was walking alone, and due to the clouds the road was not visible, I reached Kalapokhri 15 minutes after them and was anxiously searching for my iPhone in luggage, which had just arrived by Jeep. I was still carrying my Vector pen with me in my pocket, kind of superstition. The days we started descending from Sandakphu we were tired and content. We were taking a break in between the checkpoints.in such a time of the break, I realized that I could not find my beloved,co-fighter Parker pen. Probably at the time of putting off the Jacket on the way I lost it. The iPhone was more costly than that pen but that Pen added more value to my life. So I was sad for a moment and the tiredness and joy of doing the first trek overshadowed the sadness. But I still remember that PEN. It was a companion for the span of more than 15 years. I never valued anything, any object like that in my life. I think Object should be used, not the people. It helped me to become whatever I am now, I never gave importance to the exam , rather I focused my mind on learning, but the whole system is based on the marks we get in exams. Anyway sometimes object like this one becomes the subject of importance by adding value to mortal life and becomes costlier than any other things.