Saturday, 29 November 2014

It is time to raise your voice!!

I always considered myself to be the proud owner of a strong will power and the courage to speak up against wrong. But the reality is when relationship, convenience, love, compassion are at stake, this power often takes a back seat. However incorrect and selfish it may sound, but it actually does at times.

I am a happy go lucky person, and usually gel well with people around me. But being a working woman I barely get time to socialise with my neighbours. Recently I discovered that a girl, almost my age, travels to office at almost the same time I do, and the good news is she is my next door neighbour. I really found it amusingly strange; we actually do not know the people who are separated from us by just a wall.

It started from a regular “Hi, Hello!” in the lifts, to long chats in the auto rickshaw, as we travelled to the bus stand to catch our respective office buses. Gradually it became ritualistic for us to travel together and talk our hearts out. Niti (is her name) stayed with her in laws, while her husband was mostly away on office tours. She almost everyday praised her mother in law for her co-operation, and declared she was the best of her kind. The praises got into my head and I eventually developed a strong respect for that lady. Recently I was not well and took a few days leave from office, and that is the time when I noticed this respectable aunty and her deeds.

I personally disliked people who litter, and made it a point, never to do so. However honestly I never took a step to stop people who did. Recently with the Swach Bharat campaign started by our Honourable Prime Minister, the zeal to stop one and others from shitting around has increased in me like many others. It is high time to start loving your country like the way you love your little home.

Honouable Prime Minister Launches "Swach Bharat" Drive

During my few leisure days at home, I noticed that Niti’s mother in law did not maintain any proper dustbin. She gave a packet to the guy who came to collect waste. But through out the whole day, she would put packets at her doorstep with all sorts waste in them, resulting in a fowl odour in the corridor. And she would fight with the sweeper for not taking the wastes away, and the sweeper would timidly make unsuccessful attempts to convey to her, that they collected waste only once a day. She was determined to keep her household spick and span, and gave a damn to hygiene and cleanliness of the common corridor area. She also had the habit of throwing things in the garden area from her balcony, creating slip hazard to the kids who play and the cleanliness as if she cared!

I decided to discuss the matter with Niti, but to my utter surprise she already knew about it. She bluntly pointed out that the housekeeping staff is responsible for the cleanliness of the corridor and garden, as much as we are for our respective houses. When asked about the risk of the kids getting hurt she playfully avoided confrontation. Days passed and I continued to behave normally with my responsible neighbours fearing some bitter situation.

One day when I was returning home after a hectic day at office, I actually saw a kid loose control of his bicycle on a waste and fall. It was too much for me to take, who cared of relationship with unsympathetic, illogical and irresponsible neighbours, it was time to give them back.

I rang the door bell at Niti’s place, and Niti opened the door with a smile. I smile did shake me off my purpose for second but I revived soon. I made a poker face and sternly said that I wanted to talk to her mother in law for a while. Taken aback by my look Niti called her, and when she was about to greet me with a loving fake smile, I started!

“Aunty today I saw a kid loose control of his bicycle on a waste and fall, thankfully he was not too hurt. I am sorry to say but I have seen you throw waste to the garden from your balcony. I suppose who would stop doing this when your grandchildren are playing there too. Besides I want to make you aware that there are 500 families in our housing complex and it’s definitely not possible for the sweeper to collect wastes from your doorstep every now and then. It’s unhygienic for all the people staying here to be exposed to your household waste. Besides you do not have the right to dirty the place which is common to all.
As I see, you have a beautiful apartment which is so clean, when will you start treating this complex and this country as your home too?”  I said and started walking to the door immediately without giving them time to react.
Niti and I are no longer friends but I am happy that her mother in law is a more responsible citizen of India now.

When I came across the topic of “Power of voice to clean India through AbMontuBolega” by Strepsils (#AbMontuBolega) in Indivine, I thought it was very relevant to my experience. I would also like to congratulate Strepsils for this unique and thought provoking campaign. For the people who are unaware. “Ab Montu Bolega” is a wonderful way towards encouraging people to take a step towards raising their voice, against what they think is wrong or unethical. Because being silent does not help, it is time to clear your throat and raise a voice. In fact this campaign is a wonderful tool for the “Swach Bharat” drive. Afterall being aware yourself is not enough, it’s important to take part in spreading the awareness of the importance of cleanliness, of not only your household but your country as a whole.


For more details visit their website, you can also follow the campaign through facebook (Facebook page) and twitter (Twitter page).

Aritra Chakrabarty Sengupta

Friday, 28 November 2014

My six day saree saga-Durga Puja 2014

Today morning I got up feeling really excited. I had a new and different idea for my new narrative. Actually I mostly enjoyed writing about my travel stories and social issues. But never did I try my hands on fashion. Not that I am a fashionista, but I love indulging myself like any other girl. And as all Bengalis would know, Durga Puja is the best time to check out what’s in and what’s out.
I just love to wear cottons, silks, junk jewellery and those big round bindis typical of Bengali style statement. And even though the whole year sees me in westerns, these five days of Sharodutsab (Durga Puja) pulls out the traditional me, and I truly and lovingly embrace this six yard wonder. So I just wanted to narrate (flaunt <wink>) my five (actually six, because this year we started a day earlier for the inauguration) day saree saga.

Panchami evening (Inauguration)
My husband and I are associated with a Social Organization called Spandan, based in Powai, Mumbai. An association of more than 200 mostly Bengali families. Hence occasions like this see a flood of chic people, dressed in their traditional best.

pic courtesy: Mukesh Trivedi

pic courtesy: Mukesh Trivedi

Based on the theme of “Yuva Shakti, Naba Shristi (Youth Power)”, our grand Puja was inaugurated by renowned film director Shri Pradeep Sarkar, former youngest minister of state Ms. Agatha Sangma and young entrepreneur Shri Sudhir Menon.
The members were asked to keep their dressing strictly traditional this evening:

Decked up for the inauguration ceremony
pic courtesy: Avishek

Me handing over the bouquet to Shri Pradeep Sarkar

Happy faces, pic courtesy: Mukesh Trivedi
Shasti evening  
Famous Bengali News channel ABP Ananda was supposed to cover our Puja this evening. I chose to wear one of my favorite sarees, the black and red Dhakai and teamed it with a golden forever 21 neckpiece:

Pic courtesy : Avishek

Pic courtesy : Avishek

Pic courtesy: Mukesh Trivedi

Saptami morning and evening
I decided to dedicate Saptami to my favorite color pink, both morning and evening saw a tinge of pink in my attire. While my morning was subtle with grey demanding prominence with some junk jewellery, evening was flashy with florescent pink and huge neckpiece again from forever 21. Performances from Shayak and Nipobithi made the evening awesome.

pic courtesy: Mukesh Trivedi

Pic courtesy : Avishek

Pic courtesy : Snehasis

pic courtesy: Mukesh Trivedi

Pic courtesy : Avishek

Ashtami morning and evening
Ashtami morning is more for devotion and puja and dressing takes a backseat. I don’t even have a picture of my attire. Keeping the divine feeling intact, I decided to wear a pure white Dhakai for the evening and teamed it a pearl ear ring and kept to minimal jewellery. I actually wanted the focus to be on my lovely saree which my in laws had sent me from Kolkata (Adi Dhakeswari Bastralaya). An electrifying performance by Akruti Kakkar, however later made me forget what I was wearing and dance like mad:

Pic courtesy : Snehasis

Pic courtesy : Snehasis

Nabami morning and evening
Nabami was “the day”, month’s long preparation was ultimately going to be paid off. My Play “Swapne Jemon Hoe” (meaning- the way it happens in dreams) was scheduled to be staged that evening. I did not go out in the morning as was busy with last minute rehearsals. In the evening had to get into the skin of a housewife in a lower middle class family.

pic courtesy: Mukesh Trivedi
A moment captured wonderfully from my play

However after the successful staging of my drama, I wore a black monotone silk and teamed it with a contrast red blouse and danced to the tunes of Cactus a famous Bengali Rock Band.

Pic courtesy : Avishek
 Dashami evening
This year Nabami and Dashami were on the same date. But we decided to stretch the celebrations a little more and the emersion was scheduled on the day next to Nabami.
This is the day when every Bengali girl looks beautiful with their vermillion smeared faces. It’s the last day to celebrate Ma Durga’s descent to the Earth, and the last day to go traditional.

Amidst chanting, gloom and hope of next year’s celebration, we bade adieu to MA with “Asche Bochor Abar hobe” (Ma will again come next year).

pic courtesy: Mukesh Trivedi

pic courtesy: Mukesh Trivedi

My Saree saga 2014 did not end with Durga Puja, after Durga Puja we bengalis have a gathering called "Bijaya Sanmilan". I ultimately concluded my this years endeavour with the following look:

pic courtesy: Avishek

Aritra Chakrabarty Sengupta

I love to cry for you

“As the raindrops slowly slide past my body,

As the breeze from the bedside window play with my hair,

As the milkman rings the doorbell in the morning,

As I burn my hand while cooking,

I remember you.

As the nightmare leaves me wet with perspiration,

As my body aches to hug you,

As I keep my specs on the head and search for it,

As I make only one cup of coffee in the morning,

I remember you.”

Arushi and Aniket were childhood buddies. Their parents never bothered about their togetherness, as they thought they were too casual to be into any romantic bonding. Even Arushi and Aniket thought so, they thought they were awkwardly different, to fall for each other, in any way other than friendship. But they always remained the best of friends, from school to college. Their relationship seemed to be the only constant thing, in the whole bad world.

As the understanding of love and romance dawned upon them, they understood that their closeness hardly left room for any third person to come near them. Hence they decided to give each other space. And that’s the time when they realized “Holy shit!! We are in love”!

The realization was just the beginning of a lifelong fight for love, fight with family, fight with the society and fight with luck. But who cared, after all they were in love. The magic and bliss of being together was so endearing that it out weighed the blemishes of societal norms of caste and status. And eventually after completion of graduation they decided to elope. They thought living together with guilt was much simpler than enduring the excruciating agony of separation. “If only our parents could see through the meagre norms of the bourgeois society, if only someone would explain to them that their ideologies are cliché and need immediate amendments. But reality was different and unbearably harsh.”

Aniket had made all preparations and they were shifting to Burnpur, an industrial belt in west Bengal, he even managed a job through his friend. Life had started to look good. They got company accommodation and Aniket’s will power and hard work bought him recognition. They were happy despite of the constant guilt that was bugging them. There was nothing in surplus except their love, for the rest they settled for just enough. But still all was well, rosy and fairy tale like. Aniket cared for Arushi and pampered her like anything. Arushi loved to play the kid to him.
Arushi was getting increasingly anxious, Aniket never went out late with his friends without informing her. It was half past twelve and still no signs of him. He was supposed to go to that highway medical shop to get her Asthma inhaler. Arushi always felt stressed when Aniket drove his bike on the highway. It was probably quarter to one when her mobile screen went ablaze with an unknown number.

The emergency ward, had a strange stink but Arushi could not smell anything. She just looked around to see a familiar face, very familiar. And when she finally saw that, her heart sank. The bed was stained with blood, Aniket’s blood. Arushi used to freak out if Aniket had a small bruise and today he was bleeding to death. He had bandages on almost every part of his body but still managed a smile when he finally spotted Arushi. As if his long wait had finally come to an end and now he could sleep peacefully. Arushi slowly walked up to him and looked down at him with a smile. “You will be OK”. His face had gone pale but his eye were still sparking with life. Arushi wanted to give her last drop of blood to bring him back to life, she wanted to shout and burst her lungs. But she just silently stared at him, on and on.

She had no idea from where their parents had come know, of the tragedy, which had dawned on Arushi. But the next day both the families came to Burnpur. While Aniket’s parents cursed her for being unlucky for their son, her parents suddenly started understanding her feelings. She hated all of them, she just wanted them to go away, so that she and Aniket could start afresh.

She got Aniket’s job and moved on with her life. Aniket is still her best friend and pays her frequent visits, she actually loves living with his memory and her favorite stress reliever is to cry for him.

“I love to cry for you”!!!!!


Aritra Chakrabarty Sengupta





Thursday, 27 November 2014

Just another horror story

Amol had just stepped into vacation spirit after completing his class X exam. It was like feeling fresh after going through a long ailment. Suddenly sleepless nights was replaced by complete freedom to read Satyajit ray’s Feluda Series or the adventures of Famous five by Enid Blyton. He was more than happy and wanted to read all of them in one go. “Life has never been this wonderful” thought Amol.

“Hey, where are you going during the vacation” asked Nabeen. A strikingly lean boy, with elephant ears and sparkling eyes. He was Amol’s bestie, a very bright student too. Both of them were busy playing video game at Amol’s place, their favorite afternoon pass time.
“Err…I guess nowhere” answered Amol hesitantly. “And you?”
“To my native village “replied Nabeen enthusiastically. “Baba says, it’s all green, there is also a pond with loads of fishes. Thamma (Grandma) promised she will make me my favorite coconut laddu.”
“Wow!” exclaimed Amol with wide open eyes.
“Hey, you can join us. Baba said I could take my friends along, if I wanted to, and you are my only friend,” said an extremely excited and smiling Nabeen.
“Really?” asked Amol with his eyes beaming with excitement. “But I have to ask my parents. And I don’t have any hopes of hearing a yes, they dislike me going out of station without them, remember that School excursion?”

Their journey started at 6:00 am in the morning, when they started from their houses to board a bus from Esplanade (in Kolkata) to their destination. The bus was not a luxury coach, but the early morning atmosphere and the excitement, made their journey enjoyable. The two boys talked their hearts out, while the bus sped past the city, to enter into the greeneries of the village. The pollution free breeze was new to their city made lungs, which suddenly sprang into more life. The cultivated fields, the small huts, the farmers with their bullocks, as if their drawing books were suddenly in front of their eyes. After the bus, a small country boat took them to their destination in Gadiara (a small village, in Howrah district, West Bengal). Gadiara was famous for being the place where Damodar, Rupnarayan and Hoogli rivers met.

Amol and Nabeen were astonished to see the contrast. The village was mostly in darkness, Benjamin Franklin   ‘s electricity had not reached most of its part. Fortunately their place of stay was amongst the blessed few to see illumination. However power cuts were too frequent. The house was old but comfortable. The bedrooms had huge teak beds with sooty oil lamps placed on the small bedside tables. Even the fans looked old and both the boys wondered on their ability to run, but the cool breeze from the fields nearby compensated. There was no living area; instead there was a small area in front of the house, where you could live under the sky. Along the house, there was huge pond, supposed to be filled with fishes. The house was surrounded by coconut, mango, neem, jackfruit etc. trees.

Nabeen’s grandma was super excited to welcome her son, daughter in law and beloved grandson. When her eyes fell on Amol, he immediately noticed the happiness in them. The face was old, tired and wrinkled but her eyes had a strange sparkle, she was very intimidating.
It’s been two days they had been in that remote village, going around the fields, eating fresh fruits from trees and enjoying Grandma’s out of the world fish recipes. Amol and Nabeen had almost started putting on weight.

That evening Grandma had left for Kirtan (devotional songs) in the nearby Krishna temple, the songs were almost reaching Nabeen and Amol’s ears as they sat in the open space in front of the house. Nabeen’s parents had gone for a leisurely evening stroll as every other day. The boys were having a good time, as the breeze softly blew past them caressing their hair. But suddenly the lights went off and it was pitch dark all around.

“Oops...” said Amol. “Darkness asphyxiates me.”
“Don’t panic! Your eyes will soon get used to it, and you will be able to see,” assured Nabeen, holding to Amol’s hand. “This is the best ambience to listen to horror stories. What say Amol?”
“Please, spare me,” snapped Amol, who was already suffering from a strange eerie feeling that whole evening.

Slowly their eyes got used to the darkness; the sliced moon was mysteriously shining down on them, while the wind had started a fiendish dance. Amol started feeling uncomfortable, inspite of his try he was unable to look away from the pond with the moon light on it.  It looked quite scary. The distant cry of an unknown animal sent a chilling sensation down his spine.

“Why are you so quiet Amol” asked Nabeen who himself wanted to break the eerie silence and was praying for his parents or grandma to return fast.
“No, ummm….just not feeling comfortable,” said Amol and slowly turned his face to face Nabeen and froze. “Ummmm…mmmmm…..w…wh…what is…s….th..that?” Nabeen could hardly hear Amol but from his look, he understood that he had seen something terrible. But being the braver among the two, Nabeen didn’t give his brain time to think and immediately looked in the direction Amol was seeing.
A dark image stood menacingly near the neem tree behind the house, it was clearly visible even in the deem moonlight, Nabeen could not make out what it was. But it did not look anything near human. He lost his speech and continued to stare at it frozen. Sweat drops started appearing on his forehead.  He could not understand how much time he was in that position, but soon he revived senses.
“Amol, come with me”, said Nabeen in trembling but confident voice. Suddenly some strange power had caught over him; he remembered how his father had explained non existence of ghosts. But still no reasoning could explain the creature right in front him. “Are you coming Amol? If you don’t want to come, I..I…wi…will go alone,” he fumbled.
The creature had started showing signs of discomfort with Nabeen increasing confidence. At this point suddenly electricity resumed and lights fell on it.

“He is Nolen, he is a Bohurupee,” (meaning a man who imitates different kinds of forms) said Nabeen’s father from behind, understanding the fright of the kids. “Don’t be afraid, he won’t harm you”.
The boys knew what bohurupee meant and laughed their hearts out.

With loads of coconut laddu the boys left for Kolkata.  But the high point of their trip was that scary evening, which was not just another horror story for them, they lived that horror.

Aritra Chakrabarty Sengupta

Tuesday, 25 November 2014

Goa mania…all over again

Goa mania…all over again

“Color, color what color do you choose?
The blueness of the sky or the sea,
The golden shiny sand,
Or the colorful people?”

 Baga beach, Goa
Actually Goa offers it all, the colors that go straight to your heart and bring out the flamboyant you from your within. Its air is really intoxicating and leaves you in high spirits. and the good news  is, it has a beach suiting every traveler’s fancy. A calm and serene one to a busy wild one, all available. Now you got to pick a one that suits your frame of mind. And if you know yourself well and choose just the right one, you are having nothing short of an awesome memory creating trip.

The shacks by the sea, Baga beach

In our first trip to my favorite tropical paradise, we chose Candolim beach in North Goa. However at that time we hardly knew the beaches, and the booking was done all of a sudden, without putting our minds into little bit of research. But as they say “He” is there for hand holding whenever you need him. So he did the magic for us, after all how could he spoil our anniversary celebrations. We had the most romantic vacation on the tranquil Candolim beach, and collected memories to be treasured forever.

Cheers to togetherness, a click from our last visit

Mumbai has taken away a lot of our time but in return has given us loads of great, dependable friends. Contrary to all ideologies of making friends, for me and my husband Avishek it’s been a continuous journey of meeting new and wonderful people throughout. Whether it is office or social life, We have always had the opportunity of meeting lovely people.

Snehasis, Dolan and lil Darshu

Darshu happy to be in Goa

Our second visit to the land of euphoria was with this cool couple Dolan and Snehasis and their adorable little son Darshu (Darsheel). We got to know them through a social organization called Spandan. And after which there has been no turning back. While Snehasis is more practical and calm, Dolan has her childish charm. While Snehasis is passionate about dramatics, Dolan is a graceful dancer. Blessed with good looks and intellect they make a lovely couple. And their little naughty bundle of joy Darshu, whose presence made our trip all the more memorable.

 Sunset by the beach

This time we chose to stay near Baga beach, which supposedly was supposed to cater to our need of pure masti <wink>. Tranquil yet colorful, placid yet stormy our overall experience was actually a mixture of it all.  But this narration is precisely aimed at the frolic night we spent together by the bay, candid but wild.

Snehasis, Dolan, Darshu and Avishek

It was a short vacation and we wanted to make the most of it. All decked up in colorful attires we kick started the evening with little bit of posing (for sure). Followed by witnessing the magnificent sun slowly sinking in the sea bed, and the sea waves affectionately cuddling till the next dawn. The sky painted in a riot of colors, the distant boats, the animated tourists…oh! What a lovely evening worth to be well spent! When darkness gradually started to spread its fearsome robe, sparkling light of the crackers emerged as saviors. It was Diwali!! And we were on the verge of experiencing the festival of lights in the splendidness of the Goan beaches.

Dolan ane Me in our mini mouse look

After a little discussion we narrowed down, to having dinner in a nearby shack. All shacks had arranged for dinner on the beaches that night, the distant roaring of the Arabian Sea, the candle light, the softness of the cold sand beneath and the fireworks lighting up the pitch dark Diwali sky.

We having Fun together

It was like living a dream, we really let go that night. The music, the sea breeze brought out the child in all of us. We laughed, sang and danced with that radium mini mouse bows on our heads. Who cared for the world, it was just the four of us dancing and little Darshu staring at us with surprise.
The entire vacation was etched with memorable memoirs, but this night was really the night I would die for. Thanks friends for making it possible. I hope our next trip (which is not too far) will be far more wild and fun, so that whenever we would think of it we would have a sly grin at the corner of our lips.
Thanks Snehasis, Dolan , Avishek and especially Darshu for this lovely trip.

Aritra Chakrabarty Sengupta

Monday, 24 November 2014

Winning while gaming!!!

Who says that life in cities like Mumbai is fast? Or is it that humans are exceedingly adjusting to what ever comes their way and more. I stay in the so called fastest paced Indian city, Mumbai. And have been keenly observing the people around me. Here everyone has kind of molded themselves in the rhythm in which the city moves. They have learnt to make the most of the time they have. Travelling time is exceeding high in this city. If you are commuting by road, the dreadful traffic jam is going take a toll of your patience. For using the other modes of transport you have to dreadfully fight the humongous crowd. But Mumbai is a city of Marathon runners and it is absolutely true that Mumbaikars take their each day of struggle with a never dying smile.

Everyone here including me use their long travel time for entertainment, hobbies or producing something creative. For e.g. I read or blog during travelling. However a huge chunk of the population of not only Mumbai but other places as well, indulges into playing games on their mobiles during travel. Hence these games are kind of stress buster to many. Some of these games are mindless and just time pass while some are informative and intellectual. And it actually depends on the gamer mind set of what he chooses to play.

I am not too much into playing games and generally every night would end up fighting with my husband on his weirdest (as per me and definitely not him) addiction to playing games. I somehow found going around killing people, or fighting zombies boring. Though he always tried to convince me that gaming really helps in coming out of the stress and tension of office, but I could hardly buy it. To me my books were my best friends and I needed no one to get into that space and especially not games.

When I came across this topic on Indivine “Getting lucky has never been this easy” I was immediately attracted by the name. However going further I got to know that it was about some mobile game, so I thought unfortunately it is not for me. Until Sunday morning, when I again visited Indivine!  The name “Lucky 6” intrigued my fancies. “It might not be a game of simple fighting or racing” I thought aloud. “So it’s fine to try it out.”

My hubby dearest extended his hand to help me download the app Fatcat in my android phone. After registering I tried my hands in playing a round. To my utter surprise, I really liked it. Lucky 6 as the name suggests is more like gambling without investing a penny. Choosing (or rather putting your bets on) six leading brands and depending on their stocks on the game day, we can win. I thought the idea was cool, more like the share markets. But the good news was, as there is no requirement of investment; it spares the anxiety associated with the same. Further it is not a dull headed game, because to know on which company to put your bets on, you need to have a little bit of idea about the market.

In short I found this idea of lottery-style game unique and new. A relief to people like us, who cannot really derive pleasure from killing dreadful zombies <wink>. It gives you scope to think, study and also win without investing anything. So it’s a win-win situation for the gamer and hence is ought to be attractive to him. In cities of India like Mumbai, gaming is a wonderful regular travel companion and hence this game can be revolutionary. Afterall what can be better than to get a chance to get lucky gaming. Besides the Fatcat app is commendably user friendly which directly increases its number of future users. In India a huge number of people invest in lotteries with the dream of making it big someday; this app will definitely appeal to them as they can easily get the chance of winning a fortune without investment.
Lastly Entertainment, stress busting and prizes in one damn package….seems to be a good deal…What say??


Interested people can visit their website for more details. 

Aritra Chakrabarty Sengupta

Saturday, 22 November 2014

The story of an Aspiring Traveler.....Lufthansa

“While it glided laminar through the clouds in full glory,
I sat silently gazing out through the window and witnessing the chef d'oeuvre.
I did not know if I looked down at the city or the city lights looked up at me,
But we maintained eye contact with awe as if forever.
While the sun rays got asphyxiated and entangled in the clouds,
While the distance between me and my dreamland decreased,
I wondered why God did not give the means to witness his created magnum opus to all,
Because his creation so deserves an eye of appreciation.”

Aritra Chakrabarty Sengupta

I do not know if can call myself a traveler, because to be honest I have not travelled much. Studies, job etc have kept me too busy to let myself wander on the unknown grounds. But can I call myself an aspiring traveler? I guess yes, I aspire to travel, to touch untouched lands, to hear stories from the old shopkeeper, to witness folk dances….yes I want to experience it all. Life is too short and the world is too beautiful to be missed a glance. So I just want to accumulate enough means to chase my dreams, or rather make my dreams chase me.

pic courtesy google images

My dreams are a thoroughfare to lead me to incredibility of the creation of both him and us. I dip my feet in the blue waters of the Pangong Lake, I see and paint the fall colors both on canvas and mind, I get drenched by the gushing Niagara, I sing with my eyes closed on the Gondola and I see the skyscrapers in Frankfurt awestruck. My demanding self has a never ending list of destinations to touch and then put on the crown of being a traveler.

When I came across the Indivine topic posted by Lufthansa (Lufthansa A380- The dawn of a new era), my fancies almost instantly got intrigued. A topic which is so me! “Was the competition tailor made to provide me with a vent to emote?” I thought aloud. “I guess not, but was there anything wrong in thinking so, it’s like overindulgence, which is ‘OK’ once in a while.” I chuckled away alone in my cubicle.

Well, I did not know much about Lufthansa before coming across this contest (its not that I did not have the basic idea though…..ha ha), but this occurrence forced me to go to my most learned friend Google for some insight. Lufthansa, derived from the German word Luft (meaning Air) and Latin term Hansa (meaning Guild), I thought is an appropriate and well researched name for an airline giant like it is. And there is tinge of dreaminess attached to the name, as if; it brings dreams to reality, a dream trader…sort of! As soon as my learned friend, torch bore to the massiveness of the organization, I started feeling a sense of pride, on the thought of it spreading its hue in my lovely country India. Afterall my nation is a unique blend of varying topography and culture. It has a lot to offer to the world audience and hence any door that leads to unveiling its charisma is dear to be, as an Indian.

Now if anybody from a different country reads this. Here’s my incredible India album. A few pictures from my travel desk! I guess this might increase your want to see my beloved motherland.
The captures are mine or my friends'.

Majestic Blues, Pangong lake, Leh Ladakh (Kashmir):

My tropical paradise, Goa:

Guards at the border, The magnificent Himalayas:

God's own country, Kerala:

Now the vice versa is also so very true. It also opens more and many more doors to aspiring travelers like me to see, what I die to see, THE WORLD. And it is needless to say “the bigger the better”, because the queue of aspiring travelers is too long. A peek-a-boo to their site “The Lufthansa India website” ( promised that it’s tailored just for me in terms of comfort/Indianness and the animation used is very luring to the onlooker.

Now coming out of my literary and dreamy limbo, but only a bit <wink>! I really loved the video on Lufthansa A380 (#LufthansaA380, the video is included at the end of this post), it sort of waves a wand to summon you to start a new journey, promising class and comfort. It will (literally) carry us away from our capital to Frankfurt, with love and comfort (but off-course we have to pay for this extravaganza, if only I win this contest things may be different <wink again>). However, Lufthansa’s Giant Green A380 is another step towards opening the mutual admiration society of India and Germany. Hence a proud moment for me as an Indian and also as an aspiring traveler!

                                                                                  pic courtesy google images

Plunging back to my favorite space, I want to end with few more verses I engineered for this contest:

“As the wind whistles for start,
It is time for me to depart.
It is time for me to experience the world,
While my craft glided and whirled.
Here I come to assimilate your being,
Round and round I go geeing.
And when I stop with a jolt,
My traveler crown is witnessed in my front.”

pic courtesy google images

Aritra Chakrabarty Sengupta