Monday, 29 February 2016

What is being progressive?

They also say sharing is caring!

They say that the union of a male and a female through marriage is a bonding that God had predestined to occur. They also say that the partners bond in the holy bondage are for each other's completeness. They complement each other's existence, they make each other's life more meaningful. But unfortunately no law in this man-made society of divisions is spared of flaw. And this law is no exception either. Though fortunately the air of change, and for the better has started to flow through this bourgeois society. Yet the conjectured minds continue to rule the households of the majority. 

Today fortunately we don't teach our daughters to become proficient in cooking, cleaning and prepare to excel their duties as wife, mother, daughter-in-law and preferably forget their dreams, or better existence. At-least the society has learned to accept that a woman is capable of almost all the work has man does. She can be the bread-earner of a family too. But the flawed theory is more with the evolution of man from the dominant, to the hand in hand partner. He has gracefully (almost) learned to accept the fact, that his partner is a corporate player, a doctor or a successful businesswoman. But the difficulty is with his and the society's incapability of accepting the fact that, as she is sharing his load with jobs outside the four walls of the house, he should learn to share her load within.

We brag about how modern our society has become. We say that we are progressing at a lightning speed. Digital India! Progressive India! But can a society actually progress without being able to shed off the ingrained prejudices? Time for some thought! If you don't agree that we have impregnated minds...just ask yourself the following few questions

a. How many times have you heard that a man was anxious about the meal he was supposed to prepare after getting home, after chasing deadlines in office? 
b. Does the man of a family, of working partners think of the menu the cook will prepare?
c. Who is responsible for washing clothes or at-least sending the clothes to the laundry?
d. Who keeps account of the monthly groceries?
f. And my favourite, who prepares tea/coffee (mostly, not interested in the occasional show of generosity) after a wife and husband return home, both after a long day at office?
g. After answering the above, just ask yourself "WHAT IS BEING PROGRESSIVE?" to you.

The answers to the above questions and many more will give a transparent picture of the prejudices our society carries. And it is very important to prevent inculcating the same in the tender minds of the generations to come. And the one and only way of doing it, is to exemplify equality in the house. The man and woman of the house should be treated with equal dignity and all work should be shared. A boy and girl child should not be fed with different beliefs about their status in the society and more so in the household. As both of them strive to be successful individuals, both should be proficient in household chores. Such that these kids grow up to be successful and sympathetic building blocks of a society, which could be called progressive from the core.

I am joining the Ariel #ShareTheLoad campaign at BlogAdda and blogging about the prejudice related to household chores being passed on to the next generation.”

This video is extremely well made and symbolizes our society's pseudo progress 


Sunday, 28 February 2016


Did you ever listen to the rippling waters?
Did you hear their plea?
Did you fly with the migratory birds?
Did you swim in the sea?

Did you follow the springs to their destinations?
Did you kiss the dew?
Did you witness the rainbow form?
Did you ever sink to the deep blue?

These questions I ask to my deceased soul
Caught in the mist of dwindling life
When will the fetters loose
And will I fly to the land of blooming flowers?

The traveler, the dreamer, the narrator in me
Tries to seek escape
Escape to the world of nature's abundance
Only to be lost in life's baffling maze.

An then I realize you sleeping by my side
My dreams devoid you appear too far fetched
And I relish the fact
That I have strings attached.

Strings that complete my life and living
Strings that bind our souls
Strings that make me the woman I am
They describe my life's roles.

Aritra Chakrabarty Sengupta

Thursday, 18 February 2016


It was past mid night. Goa was still alive but Arambol beach was silent. The waves were banging heads incessantly on the beach, the white froth was shining in the full moon night. Ashutosh was alone, he was sitting on the stairs of his shack which lead to the sands. His feet touched the soft and coldness of the beach. This was the first time he had dared to travel alone after Arunima had passed away. But the emptiness was eating its way to his heart. There was a slight pain that aroused from the middle of his chest but strangely he felt more alive. Their house back in Mumbai was a museum of their memories together and he was still quite unprepared to face those, alone. Relatives and their constant pandemonium barely gave him a chance to think of her to the fulfilment of his heart. But that night he was alone, in Goa, one of their favourite locations of travel. He was happy to be able to enjoy his melancholy and think of her over and over again.

Arunima was a nature lover, the only aspect of life that gave her happiness was closeness to the oceans, nearness to the mountains. And offcourse him. She was a painter of words, a narrator and a dreamer. That night the Arabian beauty lay in front of his eyes, but a girl with long silky hair was not sitting by him clinging to his hand with candid childishness. Her twinkling eyes, infectious smile and innocent face was nowhere to be seen. Tear drops had appeared in Ashutosh’s eyes without his consent. He closed his eyes in the hope beholding her. And she appeared.

Since the last few months she was suffering from hypertension, urban life stress, her want to embrace motherhood, and her desperate try for striking balance between the writer in her and her corporate life tore her to pieces. She kept complaining that she never felt comfortable and a mist was gradually hiding the effervescence of her heart. But neither she nor Ashutosh gauged the pressure that she was subjecting herself to. Not before that accursed night. When a cardiac arrest, arrested the life of a girl full of hopes and possibilities. Leaving Ashutosh alone with her memories.

She was sitting on the sand, in a royal blue flowing gown. The light from the shack was falling on her. And Ashutosh found himself being pulled like iron towards a magnet. When she looked up at him, he could clearly see the gloom that surrounded her pretty face. Tears were rolling down her pink cheeks.

“I wanted to fly with you but shackles held me back, I wanted to touch the sky. The constant struggle to be myself killed me……I wanted to live with you………………..”

When Ashutosh opened his eyes, it was all emptiness that surrounded him. But he vowed something, he vowed to follow his dreams and never let fetters tie him up. He vowed to live for Arunima.


Aritra Chakrabarty Sengupta

Thursday, 4 February 2016

My Article in a magazine

Anything when happens for the first time is special, very special indeed. An occurrence that etches marks of contentment on your heart. And this feeling was awesome, my first appearance in a magazine. My article on JIO launch got selected by the editors of WOW, a magazine of Reliance and they featured it in their February Edition. Thanks a ton, for your appreciation.

Aritra Chakrabarty Sengupta


I am a girl of modern days
Work and house makes a winding maze
I have fetters around my legs
Given the wings I would have touched the rays…..

I am the flowing waters
I am the soothing breeze
I am the one craving creative laze
Given the wings I would have touched the rays…..

The words choke and the phrases die
After losing the war with time
They are engulfed in unknown haze
Given the wings I would have touched the rays…..

What am I, who am I?
What do I desire to do?
These undisclosed create a hurtful faze
Given the wings I would have touched the rays…..

I am a corporate player
I am an Indian wife
But the hidden narrator is lost in soullessness
Given the wings I would have touched the rays…..

But yet I will strive hard
And get my narrations back
I am fighter, I am woman
And one day,  even without the wings I will touch the rays…

Aritra Chakrabarty Sengupta

Picture Courtesy: Google Images