Fursat Ke Raat Din

I went to the USA in July 1996 as a contract employee on an H1B visa. I lost two jobs back-to-back in the first 3 months! I had $250 with me. I had no job, no friends. I could not speak English, and I could not drive a car. I could not stay in the USA on an H1B without a job.

I was royally fucked.

It was October 1996. I was in Cleveland. I was trying for a job in Philadelphia at a Kolkata-based Company (DCL) via some acquaintances.

I had to travel between Cleveland and Philadelphia a few times. Since I had no money, I was travelling by Greyhound bus. It was an 11-hour journey via the Appalachian Mountains. It was October, and the fall colour was in full bloom. The trees were so red that it gave the feeling that the whole mountain was on fire, particularly in the evening.

I bought myself a cheap Walkman for $14 (I was really cash-strapped), and I had this cassette by Guljar. I listened to Fursat-ki-raat-din all the way. I was sad and stressed. But I was also young and confident. So my worries could not stop me from enjoying those few beautiful journeys via the most beautiful places in the world.

https://music.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLqKY02NoTgcRW_b5e1nuc4xO3odkvOeZx&si=sDhmXO_RCuPQn7cP

Even now, when I listen to this album, I remember those bittersweet days.

These are the memories that do not allow me to quit drinking. It is so much fun that I do not have the heart to give it up.

I was thinking of abstaining till Thursday. But YouTube started this music in my car this morning, and all my restraints are off.

Tonight = Amrut + Fursat

After 30 years of constant struggle, don’t we all deserve a little Fursat!

Cheers!

Of Human Bondage

No one felt this simple truth in his guts than I. These learnings are seared into my existence. No one values money than I do. No one hates poverty than me. I don't want to be rich. But money gives me dignity. Dignity is more precious than life.

I knew days when half a loaf of dry bread was luxury. Having two meals a day was security. Today I can afford cheese from Belgium, bread from France. I can afford to dine at the Sangri La daily. Do I want them? Hell, no. I enjoy my dal and vat better than any food in the world. But I CAN. That matters.

My Friends

I am not an agreeable person. People cannot tolerate me for more than ten minutes. Women run from me as if I were a ghost. Men leave me after a few interactions.

That’s why I have no friends. Diya and Ranjita are left only because they don’t want to desert a lonely person. But they feel better when I am away. Probably that’s why we have so few family photos.

It was not always like this. I started my life with a huge reservoir of goodwill and many friends. I had friends at home, at school, at work.

But slowly, with my obnoxious behaviour, I started drawing that pool of goodwill, and when the tipping point came, friends started leaving me one after the other. It began with Kingshuk in 2008. One day, he just walked away and never spoke to me again. Then left Paromita, Kumar, Amitabha (CMC), my Jadavpur friends… In twenty years, the process was complete, and I was left with no friends.

Diya sometimes asks, “Dad, why don’t you mix up with people and make new friends?” I don’t have the heart to tell her, “ Beta, people hate me. I cannot make new friends.”

At work, everybody hates me. So whenever I leave a company, people are so relieved. No one has ever asked me back again.

I did not care. I thought that I had my computer, which is enough. But now even computers are getting smart. So when I ask Amazon Alexa in the morning, “Alexa, set an alarm for five minutes.” Comes the grumpy answer, “I set an alarm at 8:43 AM”. But when Ranjita asks the same Alexa (Ranjita has a sweet voice), “Alexa, please set an alarm in five minutes.” Comes the cheery answer in a pleasant tone, “Good morning, Ranjita. I set an alarm at 8:43 AM!”

This is frightening. Even computers are leaving me.

But I still have my books. They are always there at the head of my bed. I can pick up any one of them anytime. They will never mind 🙂

Teri Mitti...

In the last few years, every 15th August at 8 AM, I wake up to this song playing loudly from a mic in our apartment building. Our society people find this song patriotic 😂

I have not seen the movie. But I read that this is based on the Battle of Saragarhi. That makes it the most inappropriate song to play on Independence Day!

The Imperial, colonial British Raj sent a mercenary army of Sikh soldiers to occupy independent, sovereign Afghanistan. Naturally, the fiercely independent-minded Afgan people butchered them. And rightly so.

Why is this event patriotic for India? It is patriotic for the Afghans.

And this song, “Teri Mitti…” It's not your mitti, Ishar. Neither is it British mitti. It is AFGAN mitti. You are a paid mercenary.

If you cared for your “Teri Mitti”, you should have stopped serving the British and shot that General Dyer in the head. Thank you so much.

India is a funny place, with a funny sense of history, particularly now, in this topsy-turvy new Hindutva India.

Eat healthy, eat fresh

Eat healthy, eat fresh.

Never shy away from buying fruits and vegetables. It's not an expense; it's the best investment you can make.

Keep them displayed prominently on the dining or centre table so you are constantly reminded to eat them.

Store away junk food in the farthest corner out of reach.

Pahalgam Terror Attack

Modi’s response to the Pahalgam terror attack.

• Demolished the houses of the families of the terror suspect - A good start, albeit it probably violates a recent Supreme Court order.
• The Indus water sharing treaty was suspended —nice try. However, it has no impact on the ground. The water flows to Pakistan as usual.
• The Wagah border was closed - The border is a showpiece anyway. I guess people will miss the fun parade.
• Diplomats were sent back – good one. They needed a vacation anyway.
• Visitors from Pakistan were sent back – Major inconvenience for those people. It doesn’t do much for Pakistan.
• Warplanes are flying and warships are cruising in the Arabian Sea – Other than burning a lot of precious fuel I am not sure what exactly do they achieve.

I agree with Modi. Indian response to the brutal terror attack is beyond our imagination. No one imagined such a muted response from supposedly a tough PM. Even Deve Gowda would have done more.
I am against any military response to Pakistan. It achieves nothing. It helps the Pakistani Government to solidify their power.
What was needed was to investigate the intelligence failure. How four terrorists armed to the teeth avoided all check posts. Was there inside involvement? Why was no army presence in such a popular and vulnerable tourist spot? What is being done to capture those terrorists?
The most important part was accountability. Why no response from the home minister? Why didn’t he resign?
But if you ask these questions, you will be termed anti-national by the Bhakts. They would rather die than question their beloved Modi.
Good for them. I decided never to visit Kashmir. I will not visit there until it becomes normal, which is never.
The plight of the Godi media amuses me. They have precious little to show to defend their puppet master. But they have to keep up the #IndiaWantsRevenge hashtag. Tough job. But then they get paid handsomwly for their chamchagiri.

My Father - An Obituary

Born - 1st February 1934
Died - 3rd September 2024

My father was an ordinary man. He lived an extraordinary life. A selfless life of devotion to his family and care for others.

He never craved anything for himself. Never did he spend any money on luxury. He spent his meagre salary mainly on our education and in helping the extended family members. Countless people came to our town for studying, for treatment, for various other works were welcome in our home. So much so that our house used to resemble a guest house. We were happy to have so many friends and family members around. We didn't realise what a huge burden it was on his finances. But I never, ever heard him complain. Poor man he was, but he had a generous heart, bigger than the richest man. Not just that, he even treated them to rare luxuries like going to movies and picnics.

When we were at a lower standard, dad used to spend all his spare time tutoring us, not just our brothers but also our cousin brothers. He had an unwavering devotion to education and a refined taste of culture.

He was a simple man, innocent of the intrigues and treacheries of life. Even his close family members cheated him. But he never held a grudge against anyone.

Everyone loved him because of humility, simplicity and selfless behaviour. Even his daughter-in-laws adored him like their real father and always cared for him. For the last five years, my father was confined to his bed. But because of his popularity, his bed was always surrounded by loved ones, not just family members but also neighbours.

My father was full of life, but he was not afraid to die. When the end finally came, he embraced death and entered into प्रायोपवेशनम्. He refused all treatment. Only when he lost his consciousness could we take him to the hospital. That is one regret I have. Instead of allowing him to die in peace in his home, we dragged him to a far off hospital. All for our foolish sentimentality. Sorry dad. But I am sure he forgave us.

What legacy did he leave us? That of a simple life of moderation, devotion to his family and care for others.

My dad was an ordinary man. But I wish there were many such ordinary men around us. Our world would then be an extraordinary place.

Thank you dad. I will remember you, every day of my life.

This is a link for a few songs my father loved to listen.