My musicaI in Nakki Lake-Mt.Abu

“Ei sundor sharnali sondhyae, eki bondhone jorale go bonbhu!!”

The rhythmic strokes of the spade creating ripples,

The setting sun spreading its golden hue,

The cool alluring breeze caressing our souls,

And his music!!….

Some bubbles in my stomach,

Gentle holding of hands with love,

Nakki lake and the intoxicating Abu air,

And his music!!......

Aritra Chakrabarty Sengupta

I didn’t know when my eye lids had embraced my eyes and deep felt emotions had surrounded my inner being. I wanted to let loose and feel every passing moment without an iota of negativity. Such moments of ecstasy are rare, magical and breathe life into existence.

I always wanted a fairytale life and though reality is not always like my imagination, life is kind enough to bestow with some fairy tale moments.

Mount Abu was our second trip together after tying the knot. Romance and ecstasy was in the air of the little hill station at the foot of the Aravalli. They say that the Maharajas of Rajasthan would come to Abu during summer to get respite from the scorching desert sun. 

The hill station is indeed blessed with a beautiful landscape, the charm of which is quite a contradiction to the desert. The Aravalli hills are rocky at one point and green at the other. Colours play hide seek under the vastness of the clear March sky. Surrounded by the hills in the vicinity is the magnificent Nakki Lake, a famous tourist attraction.

 The lake with its surroundings was captivating in ways more than one. The sedate blueness, the happy faces and the colourful dressing of the local people made the area so full of colour as if it represented life. Street shopping couldn’t be more soulful than this. The market area with the signature merchandise of Rajasthan like bangles, Rajasthani dresses and turbans looked like the master stroke of a skillful painter.

It was our last day in Abu and we decided to spend it just the right way. Strolling lazily by the colourful lakeside we felt each other’s presence deep within. The sun was setting in full glory painting the sky red while the couples painted Abu red with romance. The soothing cool breeze, the multitude of hues above and our sudden discovery of getting late, is the beautiful evening going to end so soon? As we walked past the park around the lake, we noticed a blind man, silently playing a famous Rajasthani musical instrument called “Ravanhatta”. The tune was beautiful and we went to praise him for his skills. Immediately he said “babu if you pay me, I will come to play my instrument with you, on your boat ride”!!!

The boat moved lovingly fondling the lake water, it was dusk and the sun was bestowing its last beauty before going to sleep, we sat hand in hand and he played and played and played….. Tunes which have remained with me.! We paid him, may be more than he had expected but what he gave us is priceless and timeless to me. He gave me my share of fairy tale, my musical……!!!!

Aritra Chakrabarty Sengupta

Mahabaleshwar-Maharashtra Unlimited

Where the green and the grey of the mountains,
Touch the blue tranquility…

Where waters of the crystal clear lake,

Summons with placidity ….

There I holiday with dear friends,

And every moment is well spent in the serenity!!

I love to holiday, no matter what the destination is, I always succeed in deriving some sort of inherent pleasure out of it. The joy and gaiety is not bound with time. It doesn’t confine its admirable self within the boundaries of our limited stay in the holiday destination. In fact, the derived pleasure stays with me and helps recreate its image through my blogs. But unfortunately it’s been long, since I set forth exploring. But that definitely won’t stop me from pursuing my other passion, “painting with words”.

on the way to Mahabaleshwar....

Our weekend trip to Mahabaleshwar, was one such rose to my bouquet of remembrances which I wanted to blossom through my blogs. When we shifted to Mumbai, I deliberately wanted to explore the nearby destinations, and Mahabaleshwar was my first opportunity to indulge. We (my husband and I) were accompanied by two of our besties Shalaka and Nilesh, on a road trip to “Mahabaleshwar”!

view from our hotel balcony....

Our travel to Mahabaleshwar was indeed a joy ride, the gossip, leg pulling, occasional halts at road side eateries and above all the visual treat of the charismatic landscape by the road.

January is supposed to be a cold month, and more so in a hill station. Contradicting the expectant behaviour of Nature, Mahabaleshwar was cool to warm! However, cannot put the entire blame on “global warming”. The exorbitant number of fun loving Mumbaikars, who had gathered to have a chilled out weekend and enjoyable encounters with nature contributed to the temperature rise to a commendable extent! No doubt it was the extended weekend of 26^th Jan’13.

Mahabaleshwar is mesmerizing, its green yet rocky mountains is typical of the place. The breath taking view of the valley, placidity of Venna Lake at the heart of the hill station, redness of farm fresh strawberries, the alluring breeze and the happy faces around infusing festivity to the ambiance made my stay worthy. While morning was reserved for sight seeing, evening was for fun and chill!!! Of all the places of interest, I found the elephant point to be most intriguing. A rock naturally moulded to resemble an elephant, quite interesting I would say!!

The few days of stay in Mahabaleshwar, left fond memories for me. It’s not the best of holiday destinations but worth a visit for sure, and if that’s possible with great company, I am sure it will make a holiday worth remembering, as it was in our case.

Aritra Chakrabarty Sengupta

Rendezvous with Lonavala Khandala

As the scorching sun embrace the dark grey coat of the monsoon clouds,

We know the rain is here!

When the air carries the tender drops of water in his wings,

We know the rain is here!

When horns are interrupted by the occasional thunder,

We know the rain is here!

And when the greenery of hills wave its magical wand,

We know the rain is here!

Mumbai is a city known for its hustle bustle and busy life. They say the city grows on you, in spite of all odds. However even with its inherent busy life, Mumbai adorns a significantly different look in the rains. Being surrounded by the Western Ghats, soothing greenery dominates the look of the city during monsoon. Last monsoon we decided to drive to Lonavala and spend a leisure weekend amidst the greenery and the mist. There is indeed a mystic charm about the ambiance of such hill stations but it holds good only during the downpour.

This trip is special, because I was accompanied by the two most important people of my existence “my mom and my life partner”. The drive was enjoyable to the core, Mumbai-Pune Express Highway is a tourist destination in itself, long stretches of road paralleled by mountains, grey clouds looming heavy and the occasional drizzle or heavy downpour. A cozy wetness tickle your senses and its happening to me while narrating the experience as well.

Lonavala and Khandala do not have too many tourist attractions, however rains inject attractiveness to the landscape making it inherently mesmerizing. As if the rain with its magical touch transforms simple Cinderella to a gorgeous princess, whom every prince wants to woo. Bhushi Lake, Rajmachi point, Tiger point are a few of the most visited spots. However the drive to Bhushi dam and beyond up, was the most exciting part. With heavy torrential rain, dense fog and poor visibility the journey was no less than an adventurous roller-coaster ride.

Our cozy room in Sardar Sarovar Portico, good food, best company, an occasional spa and steaming cups of coffee with the blanket around made the trip, truly stress busting.

Lonavala- Khandala cannot be termed as exotic destinations for holidays, but monsoon do bless these places with a beauty worth beholding. Comfortable food and lodging, and easy commuting from Mumbai, make it ideal for a weekend getaway!

Aritra Chakrabarty Sengupta 

My radiance obsession

As the looming shadow of darkness descent...The vast blueness vanishes with lament...As the entire existence smothers in its might...The flickering flame of the candle gives darkness a fight...!

Aritra Chakrabarty Sengupta

Darkness can be either internal or external, but I detest both. Light of positivity, light of innocence, light of love and lights in general have always attracted me, even as an infant. I remember, during my first visit and exposure to the natural grandeur of the hill stations of Bengal, how much I was hooked up to the night view of the sparsely populated hills. I was immensely fortunate to view the extravaganza of Diwali on the Kurseong hills. Looming dark hills served as a splendid backdrop for the thousand little burning lamps.

When I shifted to Mumbai, this city of lights annoyed me in ways more than one. The slow moving traffic and the fast moving life, left me craving for a breathe of fresh air. My only respite was the view from the French window of the living area of my rented apartment. However soon my hubby decided to buy an apartment of our own. And the search of locating a piece of property apt for our kind of life and living began. However I stuck to my requirement of an apartment in the top floors, so that I could silently view the city lights from the darkness of my own little space, as rightfully lights are best appreciated from shadows of looming darkness.

My apartment on the 16th floor is just the way I wanted it to be. Though we had to pay some extra bucks due to my “radiance obsession”, as I call it. But Avishek (my hubby) supported me in my madness, as he always does J. Every night in my apartment is star studded with the backdrop of hills; I silently admire them and think, “ This city really grows on you, even if u deliberately try to hate it”!

     

As I sit admiring the stars in the sky
The little stars on earth wave to me

“Look” they say, “here I am Gleaming with reality”

“Beautiful from a distance, harsh when near”

 “But still you admire me, because I make the city what is it.”

                                                                                    Aritra Chakrabarty Sengupta

Aritra Chakrabarty Sengupta

I unfortunately don't have a very clear image of the view from my apartment, the images used are courtesy Google.

Summer Wedding in Mathura

The scorching heat of the June sun was mercilessly burning down whatever came its way.

But the sultry weather was no match to the spirit of festivity and celebrations.

The celebration of binding two people together, in a bond of sweet surrender to each other.

The celebration of wedding, of a very close friend of mine, Ankit and his lovely wife Preeti.

My first ever chance to witness the grandeur of a North Indian wedding.

Mathura is known for Lord Krishna and ancient history, but to me it’s also the place where my friends and I had humongous fun and spent some memorable moments together. Working in Reliance Industries, served as a thoroughfare of reaching to great pals. My stay there is studded with precious memoirs, which I will treasure all through my journey.

The 2010 June sun was indeed merciless, but the warmth of the people out shined it. We were a group of five completely insane people, traveling from Surat to attend Ankit’s wedding ceremony in Mathura, our train reached Mathura in the morning. However I cannot miss to mention, how much we had troubled people in our compartment, by our over exuberant spirits. Two other guys were supposed to join us later, making us the indispensable seven. It might be worthy to mention, how the journey had transformed us to ardent card players, so much, so that we never missed one single opportunity to try our hands at it.

After a warm welcome with mouth smacking famous “kachoris” of Mathura, we understood that this outing was meant to be memorable in ways more than one. It felt lovely to be amidst people who religiously tried to make us feel at home. After late night card sessions, we slept well and woke up all geared up for an eventful day.

Ankit had arranged a car for us, and the mean machine was supposed to take us through Agra. And bestow us with the opportunity of witnessing the “wonder of the world”. Won’t say, that a June morning is the best time to appreciate the beauty of this splendor of art! Nevertheless the craftsmen’s skill and aura of the surrounding always makes visiting Sikandra, Fatehpur Sikri and “Taj Mahal” worth a million.

The long awaited ceremonies started in the evening, although a little tired from our expedition, we got all decked up. Happy faces, grandeur of Indian attire, delectable cuisines and most importantly the flashing lights of the disco floor made Ankit’s “Tilak ceremony” a grand success. We danced to the desi beats with full on enthusiasm; all fatigue vanished within a second.

However more resplendence awaited us the next evening, “the wedding”. Evening dawned with loads of light, shehanayi, colorful flowing chiffon sarees, the shine and shimmer of sequins and much more. Glee and ecstasy flowed past the vastness of the party plot. All possible north Indian dishes were served to the guests. And that’s the uniqueness of the Indian culture; each part of the country is so different from each other yet so similar.

Ankit dressed like a “Maharaja” waited for his beautiful rani to arrive, and so she did gracefully. Many ceremonies followed and gradually tied two people with the fetters of love, compassion, respect and understanding. A bonding to be cherished lifelong!

My stay in Mathura will always be special, I could witness my friend’s special moment, spend some free spirited time with good mates and above all I experienced an entire culture so different to the one I am exposed to and this very aspect is intriguing to me and makes the experience very special.

Thanks to Ankit, Preeti and their lovely families, Thanks to Vikas, Vivek, Sachin, Surjya, Vishal and Udaya for making the experience so cheerful and memorable.

Aritra Chakrabarty Sengupta

Don't Suffocate me, it hurts my soul- Crime Against Women

My eyes are mirror, the minor to my inside!

The inside which is sore, the sore which is now a part of me!!

She opened her eyes warily, feeling dizzy and weak. Crying not only lets out emotions but vents energy as well. The sun rays on her tear stricken face brought an eerie shine. Yet, she looked beautiful! With trembling legs, she rose from the bed, the bed that witnesses her daily agony!  Blankly she stared at the man, sleeping peacefully. “Do I know him?” she asked in her mind, “Yes, he is the familiar stranger, I live with!” As she carried her fragile body out of her bedroom, her own image in the mirror shocked her. Who is this woman? The smudged kohl, the bruised forehead and traumatized eyes, it was only a shadow of herself! She felt a strange dizzy sensation in her head; her own shrieks suddenly filled the room, she heard her husband shouting with a wolfish grin on his face “Stop misbehaving, I am your legally wedded husband, I am not raping you, I am just loving you” he said. But why does love make her feel sore and humiliated, why doesn't she love being loved?

Somewhere in the unknown villages of Odisha, a mother remains worried about her eleven year old daughter. The lively little child has changed a lot in the last ten days. Her playful eyes have lost its twinkle, dark circles have started appearing. The studious child remains fatigued most of the times. A strange fear filled the mother’s heart. But she dared not to ask her, fearing to hear the worst, she chooses to keep silent. Little did she know, that her little child “Munni” was going through a trauma much more than she could ever imagine. It started with her uncle (father’s friend) giving her lift to school, then came chocolates and dolls and at last price for all the favors. “Uncle, I don’t want gifts, please leave me alone” she pleads. “I don’t like when you touch me, I feel dirty”. But her painful mourn never reached her “uncle’s” deaf ear.

She was a young professional, vibrant, attractive and beaming with confidence. Her parents counted on her for a better life and living. But off late, they have noticed her reluctance to go to office. When asked, she prefers to maintain silence. Arushi, lied on the bed in her room and aimlessly stared at the ceiling fan.  Her deep kohl lined eyes had many questions. “Who am I or What am I? Do I have the right to lead my life with dignity or am I just a commodity to play with?

After joining a renowned corporate office, life was beautiful. But her boss’s unwanted attention and favors soon became the reason of suffocation and discomfort in her life. His touch while shaking hands, his stare, his eagerness to drop her home and to dine with her, made her stay at office a nightmare. She could very well perceive his dirty intentions.

A country known for heritage and culture, a country where woman is worshiped as Goddess, is also a country where woman and womanhood is crushed under the cruel blows of rape, eve teasing, female foeticide and other  despicable crimes every second. Off late the country is witnessing some of the most heinous crimes against women ever and the toll is increasing everyday.

These criminals have not emerged suddenly, they have been part of this same society since time immortal but the vulnerable political scenario, easy money making have given them more liberty.

In a country where a political leader on an open forum says “Boys do make such mistakes but that does not mean that they should be sent to the gallows”, what else is expected to happen?

But we can’t just blame a handful of politicians for this epidemic.  Why don’t we inculcate in all young minds, respect for women? Why do we teach boys, that they are superior and women are supposed to be under them? Why do we ask our daughters to be careful while dressing and not our sons to behave themselves? Why millionaire cine stars tantalizingly shake their bodies to songs that deliberately depict women as commodities? Why rape victims are shunned from the society? Why? Why? Why? And it continues….

It’s only our collective effort which can bring a change in the society, the change which has to be essentially brought to the mindset of one and all.

Aritra Chakrabarty Sengupta

YES...I want to write a story!!!

“ Where dainty fairies fly with their wings wide open,

Where lush greenery has no end, where all rules are broken!

Where cows loiter around, with bells around their neck,

Where phoenix of imagination, rises from a wreck!

That’s the land, where my story belong,

Where the essence of living is felt lifelong”

Aritra Chakrabarty Sengupta

As a kid, I was a dreamer. I dreamt of the existence of fairy land, where “All iz well!” However, as more candles got added to my birthday cake, the light of imagination deemed. As “Realistic syndrome” struck me!

But that’s the process of growing up and evolving as an individual and is inevitable. 

I wanted to write a story then, I want to write a story now!

The main protagonist remained the same, but the layers of her life changed, the backdrop changed! Fairies waved their magical wand and fixed all mess then, but now my girl has become tougher, she is a fighter and deals with her life, her own way. Yes, I want to write a story and give her life, give life to my imagination. The story of your life and mine, the pathos of today’s woman, which is often misinterpreted! I want to portray those deepest feelings of the modern woman, whose free spirit is no more tied with the fetters of the bourgeois society. Who is literate, liberal and loving! My story will be about “ Urban woman and their sensibilities”.

She gets up early morning, to greet her husband with a cup of tea as he gets up. Even during her crucial client presentation, when the clock strikes three, her mind visualizes her kid, waiting for his school bus, she takes a minute off to pray that he boards the bus and reaches home safely. “ I hope he has, had his tiffin”!! She says in her mind. While starting her drive back home, instead of thinking about her own comforts, she recalls that her husband must have started his drive back home as well. She silently prays, for his safe drive. “Hope roads are less jammed today, he often looses his cool in such situations…O god the city is so crowded”!! She sighs.

. Often striving hard to make a mark in the male chauvinistic corporate environment and sometimes-apathetic family life. 

The woman of today is of substance; she is careerist and dynamic, yet the deepness of her inner being always lingers in search of compassion, in search of a soul that comprehends her deep felt emotions. My narrative will be about her, her feeling and her being. It will be a salute to the “Durgas” of today!!!

Aritra Chakrabarty Sengupta