Love can touch us one time

“Love can touch us one time,

                                                  And last for a lifetime “

It is true that the magic touch of pure love can have an everlasting impact. Impact on our mind, body and soul. But isn’t it also true to the core that there is also the never quenching thirst to touch the loved one. Again the thirst to touch his/her mind, body and soul. However we can’t see the soul, it’s not tangible though it’s vulnerable and perceivable. Even mind, if we think of its real meaning does not have corporeal existence, the fleeting thoughts, the knowledge, and the wisdom, none of it is palpable. Still we can touch minds through an invisible wave of perception.

But beyond all the philosophies there is always the desire of bodily touch, care and compassion. In fact it’s a very important chapter in every individual’s book of love. Who can forget the tingling sensation that ran through the nerves and reached the heart the first time fingers met? Who can forget the goose bumps and the hypersensitivity syndromes, when hands touched each other while walking side by side? Who can forget the first handholding while crossing the busy street near college? Who can forget the first hug, the first kiss? No one, because these feelings die out only momentarily but the sensations are perpetual. And like a phoenix rising from the grave, these surface with the slightest incitement.

As we traverse and struggle the rough tides of livelihood, these sensations are pushed aside and professionalism, hypocrisy, diplomacy take their place. But the true meaning of living is not survival, it means adoring every moment as it passes by. For that you need to adore the ones you love and get back the same from them.

How heavenly it feels when your partner feels like a rose petal or a feather. The arousal of love and compassion is from the touch. So touch has its importance, to create and recreate the magic of love in relationships.

It’s been years since Arushi and Aniket have been married. They had love marriage and quite an interesting one. Due to differences between their families, convincing each other’s parents had been a roller coaster ride for them. But that battle was easy because they had each other’s support, a soothing touch, a loving word. But now they were together but their perpetual togetherness has made them take each other for granted. Seldom they exchange loving words, seldom have they looked into each other’s eye and seldom they touch and hold each other out of compassion.  They both lead mechanical lives to achieve a goal, a goal to which they cannot really relate. They return late, travel a lot. They have bank balance but nothing to spend on, in fact no time to indulge.

On day Arushi was travelling in her car and it stopped on a signal. Deeply engrossed in reading the shortcomings of the new government and completely unaware of her incomplete life, Arushi casually cast a glance at the biker next to her. He had his partner with him. They rode a worn out bike, had simple and down market clothes on but they wore a smile so real. The wife hugged him from back and lovingly clung on to him. He seemed to enjoy that touch to the core, the heat, the dust, the traffic was unable to irritate him. Arushi felt like a beggar in her huge car.

At evening the sparks flew and love rekindled, the touch of love resumed.

I have believed in the magic of loving touch forever and hence loved this #BringBackTheTouch campaign by parachute. For details you can go to their website http://www.pblskin.com/ too. I fact I loved their video on this topic, portraying the finest pathos of married couples,(included in my blog).Marriage is a bliss if only you know and understand your partner and keep surprising each other with love.

Aritra Chakrabarty Sengupta

Growing up healthy

Growing up is inevitable, but growing up healthy is what matters. And it is the prime responsibility of parents to help their children grow up to be a healthy adults. As very correctly said “Health is wealth”. However living in the densely populated, hugely polluted cities of the century does not always promise a very healthy environment to the infants and grownups alike. But we have to deal with it. We cannot restrict ourselves within the safe boundaries of our homes to circumvent pollution and germs. Then what is the way out?

Low immunity of this generation compared to the older is not only attributed to factors we do not have control on. Urban lifestyle has seen a 360°C turn in years. Odd and unhealthy eating habits, late sleeping hours, lack of exercise have become a part of today’s youth life. So rearing children in this era is like a challenge, inculcating in them the right lifestyle traits and strengthening them internally.

I am not a mother but I have seen my niece and the problems my sister and brother in law would face in rearing her up. She was born in US but they shifted to India when she was three years old. Getting her, especially her health acclimatized to the changed environmental condition was a huge task for the entire family. She became too lean and underweight for her age and would easily catch cold. She did not like the kind of food we had in India. We all were extremely worried and wanted her to return to a healthy life.

Dabur chayawanprash is really a wonder product and helped giving her better immunity to a very large extent. She even liked the taste and would want for more. Once her immunity enhanced she gradually started eating more, playing more and in short growing more. She and our family both gained back sunshine. Thanks to Dabur chayawanprash that today she is a very bright kid with determination to win. (Check their site for details: https://www.liveveda.com/daburchyawanprash/)

To shine in life, we have to shine from within. Happiness and good health are two contributing factors to that internal and external shine. So let’s vow to lead a healthy life and attain the shine and give the same to our next generation. Let’s vow to make India shine.

 

Aritra Chakrabarty Sengupta

My fair lady-A working woman

My fair lady

It was a few months back when Indispire was ablaze with the topic “Do you want to write a book?” I had just started blogging then and this topic had attracted my fancies easily. Because deep down in my heart I always wanted to write a book and reach out to millions of readers. However I never knew what I wanted to write about. So while blogging for Indispire I really had to brainstorm to know myself. Eventually I came across myself. My image on the mirror actually astonished me, I never took myself so seriously before.

Hardships were not quite a part of my life. Even after marriage my husband Avishek and I did not stay together for our professional commitments. So I never quite understood the life of a working married girl. With loads of efforts we ultimately managed jobs in Mumbai and moved together under the same roof. Then we bought our own apartment, which increased financial responsibility on both our shoulders. My new house is reasonably far from my office and travelling in Mumbai is quite a task.

We have a cook, a domestic help yet managing household chores along with office was a challenge. It took me some time to acclimatize my brain to dealing with thoughts like how to complete project in time and what to ask the cook to prepare today simultaneously. Infact for the first time I started living some of the words my mother always said. She said girls need no cooking and household chores’ classes, they are tailor made to learn these with time. Being the feminist I am, my thoughts always clashed with mom’s experience. I kept to my theories of men-women equality and so on.

But time proved her to be correct, at least to a large extent. Household chores, dealing with maids and maintaining grocery stocks to name a few eventually dawned on my shoulders without me even perceiving it. I had to be home in time to let my maids work. While my husband had the privilege of staying late at office for meetings and so on.

I am not complaining, infact I have an extremely cooperative husband and my situation is much more desirable than many other working wives/mothers I come across regularly. But I just want to collect your view on this…readers please comment.

“Is it natural for a working women to be solely or largely responsible for household chores, or the work should be equally shared?”

Your take please!!!! Your point of view is important to me because I desire to write a book (my first book) narrating the ethos and pathos of today’s urban wife. How she deals with her dual life and how her efforts at times are misconstrued!

Aritra Chakrabarty Sengupta

Toilet For Bablis of India

 

India is a country where population explosion is a roaring social issue. Economic imbalance rising out of illiteracy and bourgeois societal norms, gives birth to the striking difference in the living of people in different strata of the society. At one end there is too much of an abundance, while the other end asphyxiates in the darkness devoid of basic necessities of living.

Going back to the economics we learnt in school, need is categorized broadly into three categories, i.e. necessity, comfort and luxury. But this knowledge when applied to the society turns out to have a complete different meaning. Necessity for one becomes luxury for the other.

Again going back to some basic fundamentals of life and living, in Hindi it is said that “Roti (food), Kapda (Clothes) and Makan (Shelter) “are the basic requirements of living. By shelter as I perceive, it means a peaceful, safe place with basic sanitary amenities.

However alarmingly a huge portion of the Indian population, mostly in rural areas do not have the third basic necessity of living. That is they do not have a shelter, a shelter which can actually be called so. They may have a room to sleep and a small place to cook but their so called shelter does not have toilet facility. Defecation in the open is common in such places. But is it actually a safe practice? This issue which might be meagre for people like us who are fortunate to be having access to the basic amenities can be dangerous in ways more than one.

Firstly in a country like India where tolls of crime against women is seeing a historic high. Every day we get to know of heinous crimes against women, how safe is it to send a girl to the open for defecation? Besides it is blow to her dignity as a woman even if it is safe.

Secondly it is extremely unhygienic for both men and women, and can be the transmitting ground of deadly diseases, which can even turn out to be epidemic or national crisis.

I am a Chemical Engineer by profession, and have had experience of working in different manufacturing sites. Manufacturing sites did not have as many women employees a few years back as it has today. So many of them do not have ladies room. I as a female engineer have gone through the agony of walking long distances to get a place to freshen up. Hence this campaign by DOMEX immediately caught my attention. While I firmly believe that Government should build adequate facilities in rural areas for sanitation, but we as individuals can also contribute to this noble campaign started by DOMEX by contributing to the cause and also creating general awareness.

 

 

You can visit http://www.domex.in/ and contribute your bit.

 

Aritra Chakrabarty Sengupta

My life partner...My crisis Angel....

As a child I was too pampered. Being the youngest among three siblings, I got undue attention of not only my parents but elder sisters as well. Now when I sit to introspect and come across myself, what I see scares me. Hardships in growing years are painful but getting to grow up in a bed of roses is no better.  I actually feel I am a survivor of the “life is a dream world syndrome”. The blow to my existence came with the sad demise of my father. I suddenly realized that sadness can cast its menacing shadow even over my picture perfect life. The loss of my father created lack of confidence in me, to an extent that I till date fear driving. The fear of losing near and dear ones started haunting me and even today casts a jeopardizing spell over my existence.

Life moved on and I kept pretending to be perfect. But deep down in me there was someone who was shattered and trembling and always demanded hand-holding. I never shared this deep secret dullness of the innermost part of me with anyone. I pretended to be very strong (well may not actually be pretending). I would get pissed off at the slightest harsh words, at the slightest humiliation. I did not understand why the world was no longer perfect. Being a working woman, corporate politics, boss bias etc. are a part of my daily life. But then how to deal with a situation which is so normal to the world but a looming crisis to me?

My crisis angel is my husband, my best friend and guide. He is the only person in the world with whom I could share my trouble. A generally impatient person by nature but astonishingly patient and always all ears to my, self-made torment revelations. He who otherwise seems so unmanaged and childish while dealing with daily chores soothes my wrath with so much ease and brings me back to myself.

I am generally a hard working person but a slightest disapproval from my boss shatters my inner being. I cannot sleep and get over it. I always fear hurting others feeling and even a small harsh word to anyone torments me to the core. There remains no quietude within me. The reverse is also true; a little act of love, some sweet words of appreciation leave me ecstatic.

My husband Avishek has always showed me the reality, the brighter side of life. He day in and day out helps me deal with my pessimism. I lead a normal life and am actually may be strong. But the crisis of my life exists within me, whatever may be its origin. My fear of the worst! Avishek through all these years have always pulled me out whenever I sank into untold depths of depression.  The world knows my happy face indeed because of him. 

Aritra Chakrabarty Sengupta

Chetan Bhagat … A success story:

Chetan Bhagat … A success story:

Writing is a passion and not everybody is gifted with the inclination of painting their thoughts with brushes of words on paper. However in a country with population explosion like India, expectantly there is no dearth of writers either. So like any other field, the runners on this ground too face extreme competition.

Talking of modern Indian Writers, one name that cannot be skipped is “Chetan Bhagat”. But what is the reason for his fame? Actually the answer to this question can be to the extent of controversial. Not that he writes on very uncommon topics, not that his lucidity out passes his contemporaries, then what, what are the factors in his products that attracts readers?

As far as my thought process goes (which is not too far ;-)), following are the X factors of his creations:

1.      Bhagat‘s creations have what the readers like to fantasize. Many of his books (For e.g.: Five point someone, 2 states) has the main protagonist from India’s cream educational institutes IIT, IIM etc. A huge portion of Indian educated population aspires or at one time aspired to be a part of these institutes. Hence a peek a boo into the life that these institutes offer, can be of interest.

2.      He always has a very beautiful female protagonist. All his ladies are attractive and his description increases their appeal to the mass. Sex and romance form an integral part of his narratives. Besides he is extremely descriptive of the romantic growth in the protagonists’ minds.

People can relate to his description of slowly getting attracted and then falling in love.

3.      He does not use difficult English, his novels are written in the most used words. Hence the population which might refrain from buying an English novel, fearing to encounter, what appears gibberish to them, go for Bhagat’s creation.

4.      His stories are potboilers and are great to be recreated on screen by bollywood. Transformation of his creations on celluloid gives him mass appeal. People who might not want to read, get attracted thinking they are reading the original script of their favorite movies.

5.      Lastly, what I feel is he has the stars for it. Personally I liked “Five point someone” and “2 States” the rest of his creations could not appeal to me as a reader, yet they stand apart as best sellers. Which implies that a huge portion of the population have started relating to his way of storytelling. I feel Bhagat is a great writer but as a reader I want him to write not with idea of transforming it on celluloid. At least “Revolution 2020” seemed to me as if created to be filmed.

Looking forward to reading and loving more of his creations. Because ultimately originality is what all readers want and that is what lasts.

EUPHORIA-Suvali beach Surat

EUPHORIA

When you are happy and you know it,

And you really want to show it,

Clap your hands!

They say that best friends are made during school life. I firmly believe this saying to be true. However I also believe that there is no age for meeting like-minded people and this most desired encounter with your best friend may happen at any point during the journey of life. Though we actually do not expect to live this encounter in professional life, but in my case I got to meet some of the most interesting and endearing people during the tenure of my first job. 

Our planning has no end, we plan to shop, we plan to travel and so on but nothing materializes easily. However that Sunday afternoon must be different, the air was euphoric and beaming with life. We decided to sacrifice our afternoon siesta and set forth towards a beach. Surat is not a land of beaches, yet a few were worthy enough for a visit or two. Suhali beach is one of those kinds.

Ankita, Pooja, Krishna and me got all decked up for a lovely ecstatic evening by the bay.  However one of our partners in crime Swati had shifted to Baroda by then.

When four lovely ladies decide to have an outing together, choosing the correct attire is bound to be a concern. We were no exceptions either, no wonder our or rather Ankita’s favorite rickshaw wala was at our doorsteps, before we were ready to sail through the tides of pure fun, selfies and laughter.

Our chatterbox Pooja was at her best that day, and everyone who knows her will understand what I mean to indicate. One of the purest souls I have come across and also the most talkative person I knowJ. So the rest of us had the advantage of sitting back and enjoying, while she leg pulled and bullied the others. However it is worth mentioning, that no one was spared and each of us had our share of ill fate.

Ankita was my roomie from day one and is one of the sweetest friends I proudly possess, a person I can completely rely upon. But then she is our miss touch me not (now Mrs. thoughJ) and demanded utmost care and affection all the times, which we always tried bestowing on her.

Krishna is another lovely girl I came to know, her transparency and candidness is really unique of her personality. She is pretty, has great sense of humor and an adorable friend of mine. However, she is extremely choosy of her wearing, and it’s needless to say who took the longest amongst us to dress upJ.

Together we set forth, with the setting sun sprinkling its golden hue on us. When we reached Suhali beach the sun was majestically folding his royal robe and hiding mysteriously beyond the unknown darkness. The beach was abuzz with the laughter of numerous groups who had come to spend their

evening, with the tides of the Arabian Sea caressing and touching their feet, the cold, wet sand beneath and the warm rays of the setting sun above.

 We merrily walked hand in hand, ran as the gushing waters chased us, made heaves of sand, clicked pics and laughed our hearts out. Though rare but some moments do convince our hearts that life is awesome, and that evening was embedded with numerous such moments.

Job life has given many good friends to me, whom is prize. It’s a blessing to be able to spend some precious moments with few such friends. That evening will always remain with me, I will never forget the spirit and innocence, as if we were reliving our childhood days. After all witnessing a glorious sunset by the bay and the company of dear friends can be nothing less than the promise of a brighter and happier tomorrow. I firmly believe it’s very difficult to find true friends however it’s more difficult to keep the relationship going strong, yet some friendships are bound to happen.

Aritra Chakrabarty Sengupta

The sound of silence- Stop human Trafficking

The tall dark shadows of lust cover my being,

I am used and thrown like a thing.

They pull me by my hair, and push me onto a chair,

They hurt my body, they hurt my soul but why would you care?

I cry, I shout and I beg on my knees,

But you forget my pain with ease.

They buy, they sell, and they treat me like hell,

But you have turned a deaf ear to my yell.

Will my tormenters face the gallows?

Look how they have pulled me into never ending lows………

The old fashioned wall clock struck two; still Minu was struggling to get some sleep.  She was barely fourteen, yet she was insomniac. The rehabilitation centre was way more comfortable compared to the kind of living she was used to. Yet the uncomfortable thoughts that were nesting in her mind, transformed her to a shadow of herself. She was scared of the images that return to her as soon as she closes her eyes. It was safer to stay awake. She looked at the cobwebs on the wall with dark questioning eyes and felt like the little trapped insect.  Unknowingly like it happens every night, her thoughts travelled six months down the lane. She was a different Minu then.

In a beautiful village in North East India, Minu led a peaceful life with her father, mother and little brother. Life was tough, yet living was worth it. They knew to derive happiness out of daily hardships. The fairy land like village gave Minu her fairy tale love, through Rajan. She met him in school and sparks flew. Life was bliss, when Rajan and Minu walked hand in hand with the Tista flowing by their side in full glory. Going to bed without food in her stomach seemed easier than to pass one day without seeing Rajan.

Minu’s young and innocent mind, couldn’t read Rajan’s dirty intentions. He persuaded Minu to come to see him in Mumbai so that they could start their journey together.

It was midday, when Minu’s train reached Mumbai Central station. She couldn’t believe her own eyes; the beautiful sparsely populated village was replaced by a menacing city. The whole world seemed upside down for her. She cautiously made her way through the roaring crowd, tightly holding on to her belongings. Suddenly a guy approached her from nowhere, and introduced him as Rajan’s friend.

It was dark all around, her torn clothes and bruised body was more comfortable in the pitch darkness than light. She was scared of facing her own image. Suddenly the door opened and Minu who could barely open her eyes then, saw a man paying some money to Rajan’s friend and entering the room in shaky steps. She knew what was next. This torture was going on for a few days then. An animal would come and tear her to pieces and before she collects herself, the next one would knock at the door. But as they say when it’s darkest in the night, the light is nearby. That morning the guy forgot to close the door behind him. Even Minu doesn’t know where from she gathered the energy and courage to run out of that dungeon and face the big bad world.

A traffic policeman had taken shattered and trembling Minu to the police station. After spending fifteen days in the hospital Minu’s physical injuries were healed but the injuries inside were deeper and no medicine could heal it. The haunting memories would live inside Minu forever and torment her from time to time. But at least she was safe; the cruel claws could scratch her bare body no more. But the sound of the silent pain inside her being will stay forever and ever.

There are many Minus’ around us, but in our busy schedule and deadlines, their cries do not reach us. But we all as humans should do what it takes to reduce and finally eradicate this epidemic called human trafficking.

Aritra Chakrabarty Sengupta

Wilderness affection-Matheran

As the raindrops fall on the roof of my cottage in the darkness of the night

As the distance sounds of unknown animals reach my ear

As I watch the mysterious mist engulf the air making it heavy

An un-described feeling of thrill runs down my spine!!!!

The 15^th August long weekend was approaching and entire Mumbai wanted to make use of it, we as usual came to senses after all hotels had the no vacancy board hanging. I wanted to go to Bhandardhara which is believed to be one of the most beautiful getaways near Mumbai, but unfortunately there was no hotel available. So we booked a cottage in Matheran for the weekend. My Mom was with us, so it was important to plan the weekend in the best possible manner.

The drive from Mumbai to Matheran was relaxing, green mountains, mysterious fog and occasional downpour greeted us with open arms. Mumbai besides its busy, panting life is actually beautiful. While the Arabian Sea kisses the city land, the greenery and beauty of the Western Ghats embraces it from the other end.

As we approached Neral, we were a bit surprised to see drivers asking to lend their skills, for the drive till Dasturi point. However with slight reluctance we decided to continue with our journey on our own. As soon as the car started to make its way up the winding mountain roads, we realised the drive would be a tough one. Narrow stony mountain roads, unexpected twists and turns and vehicles at high speed coming from up hill made the journey no less than a nerve wrecking roller coaster ride. Avishek's commendable driving skills helped us pull through. However the surrounding landscape was jaw dropping and was worth taking the risk and pain. 

From Dasturi point starts the untouched, rustic woods of Matheran and no motor driven vehicle is allowed beyond it. We took horses while Ma a man pulled rickshaw.

The journey through the words was very intriguing. Muddy and stony roads were surrounded by thick vegetation. Some people walking, some riding horses like us and a few on rickshaws like mom were making their way up hill to feel the majestic yet mysterious woods of Matheran.

It took us around 30 minutes to reach our destination, Cecil hotel is a lovely property to put up in Matheran. Not because it’s luxurious but because it actually gives you the feeling of staying in the dark woods. The cottages were huge and comfortable; there was no electric bell but a small chime to call for room service. Outside the property premises there was literally thick forest land which seemed to be owned by monkeys. The hotel served vegetarian food only, but extremely delicious.

The rain man seemed to be doing overtime that day, incessant raining and mist imparted the forest a look which suits it the most.

We stood through the afternoon witnessing nature’s extravaganza, it was indeed a sight to behold when the rain caressed the dense woods. A steaming cup of tea was like icing on the cake, it was pure bliss in the chilled forest winds. Dusk descended in full glory, as if embracing the greenery in its dark mysterious shroud. There was mist all around and the distant cries of some unknown animals reached our ears. The feeling of being close to the untouched parts of the wood sent thrill down my spine.

I firmly believe, that the essence of any place is felt when adequate time is spent to actually assimilate its uniqueness. I loved my trip to Matheran to the core and more so because I spent the night to feel its being.

Aritra Chakrabarty Sengupta

Dilwara Jain Temple-Mt. Abu

I stand awestruck and mesmerized by your skill

Oh!  An epitome of artistic sense

Never knew shapeless stones would look so graceful and living

Dilwara Jain Temple of Abu is indeed a spectacular example of Indian art and craft.

Abu a small hill station at the foot of the Aravalli range! Green and grey mountains and colorful people of Rajasthan impart it with a flavor so different from other hill stations of India!

Rajasthan is not a mere state, it’s like a rhythm. Harsh desert conditions impart an urge to lead a life so visibly full of color, that the dullness never enters hearts. The roaring of the fearsome desert winds is out shined by the soothing tune of musical instruments and softness of regional music. No wonder Rajasthan was always known for art and craft. The colorful attire of the local people keeps the spirit of life high and never dying.

Our short trip to Abu have etched fine sketches on my mind, beautiful valleys to Rocky Mountains, sedate lakes to colorful turbans, however the most magnificent creation was yet to behold.

Our tourist bus, filled mostly with honeymooners moved past the winding roads, couples cuddled out of love and chill in the air. There was an aura of romance and our guide kept the spirit going, with his intriguing and hilarious tales.

After covering quite a few lovely tourist attractions, we reached our most desired destination. Dilwara Jain Temple was much more than we had expected. In general, Jain temples have beautiful marble work, but here the artist or artists have taken the art to a different level. It is a magnum opus. The intricate detailing was mind boggling. How much skill, time and patience would be needed to create this kind artistic excellence? From the different Gods and Goddesses to the incredible chandeliers all cut out of marble, would leave the beholder awestruck.

We took a minute to get accustomed to beholding this kind of art. While the pandits narrated the history of the temple, I only kept looking at the work. My eyes drank the artistic essence, just like a hungry beggar would react to food. My ears could almost hear the great craftsmen at work.

Camera is not allowed inside the temple premises, which stopped us from clicking some lifetime pictures. At the same time, I believe the absence of camera made my eyes and others senses do overtime,  to capture the beauty and assimilate it forever.

Aritra Chakrabarty Sengupta

Temple pictures are courtesy google!!