This is what I knew it to be all my life. And then I landed here where 'right' is actually right! And this literally turned my world 'left-side right'. Well, yes, I am talking about the traffic. My roads turned around as I came here to right-handed traffic in Slovenia from left-handed one in India. "First look at right, then left, and then right again, and only then cross the road". This was the rule for me. And I had to change it completely!! Good that there are more traffic lights to help cross road..
Before coming to Slovenia, I really did not think about it. I had too many other worries and any thoughts regarding traffic was nonexistent in my mind. And after reaching here, it took my mind some time to notice and feel the difference..
Initially it was the impact of being in a new country. New places, buildings, names, language, people, work and so on.. I had too much to occupy my mind. I did notice the driver's seat to be in the 'wrong' side, but was still to realize the effect. Initially, it was nothing more than one of the many differences that I noticed. Not really knowing my way then, I was not yet going around alone; and thus was oblivious of the turned directions.
And then one day, waiting at a traffic light, the reality dawned on me. By then I had familiarized myself well enough to know that we were waiting to turn left. First I found it very strange waiting for the traffic to turn green for making a left turn. However, my mind could still provide a reason. In most big or busy crossings one actually has to wait at traffic even for a left turn. The light turned green. As I noticed the car making the left turn, well something was not exactly right.. Actually it was all very strange!! We turned such to drive on the right side of the road!! In that moment, for the first time I realized that the directions of my roads have changed. And it was a big change indeed. Specially for one like me who is always lost with directions..
I was returning home from work. Reaching the main road I stood lost. On which side of the road should I wait for the bus?? Step one, on which direction is home? Step two, on which side of the road is the traffic moving to the desired direction? Confirmation step, on which side did I get down in the morning? And there, you know on which side you should wait for the bus. Hm, well, that was easy! For the next few days and if I was availing some new bus stop, I had to repeat this process in my mind to know my direction!
And I still have to do that if I go somewhere I never went before! Or simply when I am unmindful..
Last week, I was walking to the city center from work. The wish was to simply walk around and maybe visit some bookstores. Spending a pleasant time in the bookstore, I decided to head towards home. Still absorbed in thoughts of books, I was standing at the bus stop waiting for my bus. A No. 6 arrived. I was almost about to board it when I realized it would be taking me away from home instead. Lost in my thoughts, I was standing and waiting on the wrong side!
Funny situations happen when I walk on the road. I meet someone face-to-face. The other person moves to his right to make way for me. And I move to my 'right'. Almost coming to the verge of a collision. A confused and startled moment follows when we both stop; and then continue on our way. Even though I am telling in my mind "right right right right right", I always land up on the other 'right'!
Last January when I went to India after more than a year, I was afraid about the roads. I thought I would be completely confused with sides and not know where I should wait for the bus. Specially if I would go to somewhere not usual! Fortunately, my fear was unfounded. Kolkata is home after all, and one cannot forget the city where one grows up. I landed there and it felt home. I knew my rule well. And anyway it is not anymore a rule, but had turned into a habit years ago.
But.
Now here in Slovenia, it is still a rule that is still 'strange'.
And the rule is "Right is right and left is wrong"!!
May 30, 2010
May 19, 2010
Hairclips and Hairbands..
No I have not grown up. And I really doubt if I ever will.
Last weekend I had my usual trimming of hair. And after that, I have this strong strong feeling to buy those colorful hair stuffs. Hairclips, hairbands, and those cute rubber bands with something on it for a pony tail. No, I don’t like Barbie stuff, but I wish those colorful things, the cute and childish ones. Like I used to get from my dad..
Childhood days, and I have memory of dad pampering and spoiling me with those cute hair stuffs. My ma would also bring of course, but somehow I have memory of dad bringing little me those things. With my ma I have those memories from when I was a quite a bit grown up. Durga puja, birthdays, and no occasion at all, he simply brought his Guria those things whenever he would find something cute.
On the dressing table mirror, I remember, there used to be a full row of hairbands in all different colors and shapes. The spiral yellow one, the white one with a red bow, the plain red one for school, the red and black one with some detailed designs, light purple that had some whitish undertone, they were in every possible colors. And proudly I would get up on the dressing table to take the one that matched my dress that day down. Sometimes if one would break, the next day dad would bring another one to make his little girl happy!
All sorts of clips filled up the drawer. I specially loved those little plastic bow clips from when I was baby. They would be in pairs and in every shades present on the palette. Big and small, they delighted me. And I specially liked if some had a bit of dots or some kind of decorations. Those were more special. I remember a lavender colored bow with white dots. There were single ones also, a bit more fancy ones. A particular one had two small birdies in a nest. The purple nest and yellow tiny beaks of the birdies made it so cute. I still have this one with me. I still have the lavender bow. I still have a white one with black dots. The white color has faded with time into a yellowish one. But even today, when I look at it, feel it and try to put it on my hair, I feel my dad’s love and touch and it makes me smile.
Those rubber bands were cute. I would make two pony tails and tie them up with those cute bands dad had got for me. They had small beads in different shapes and combinations, playing with colors. It would be little blue balls with red rings, cute face of a girl in two ponies, little flowers, bugs. A pair had cream colored rose beads; I wore it for the first time on Ashtami day with the dress my grandma made. It was special.
Once dad bought me a red hairclip with golden edges. Somewhat like for grown up woman. What lady-like I felt putting it on!! I wouldn’t get to wear it often, as it was not childishly cute but more elegant. It was every time a special occasion when I would put it on. One such occasion was the morning when we went to Nagrakot in Nepal for the sunrise. It was not only special because I wore the clip that day; it was because dad had made my hair that day. He had put it on!!!
And I wish to wear all those things again. Those colorful bands, those pretty clips. Everything. Well, maybe not the ones for little babies, but all the rest. All those cute ones. Hm, and on second thought, I can also wear those that are for babies, when I go out on my own, maybe just not to work :)
I wish them. And I can buy them. But I wish someone to buy it for me. I wished to fill pampered and loved with those cute colorful things. I wish dad to buy me those things..
Baba, buy me one hairclip pleaseeee…
আমাকে একটা ক্লিপ কিনে দাও না বাবা...
Last weekend I had my usual trimming of hair. And after that, I have this strong strong feeling to buy those colorful hair stuffs. Hairclips, hairbands, and those cute rubber bands with something on it for a pony tail. No, I don’t like Barbie stuff, but I wish those colorful things, the cute and childish ones. Like I used to get from my dad..
Childhood days, and I have memory of dad pampering and spoiling me with those cute hair stuffs. My ma would also bring of course, but somehow I have memory of dad bringing little me those things. With my ma I have those memories from when I was a quite a bit grown up. Durga puja, birthdays, and no occasion at all, he simply brought his Guria those things whenever he would find something cute.
On the dressing table mirror, I remember, there used to be a full row of hairbands in all different colors and shapes. The spiral yellow one, the white one with a red bow, the plain red one for school, the red and black one with some detailed designs, light purple that had some whitish undertone, they were in every possible colors. And proudly I would get up on the dressing table to take the one that matched my dress that day down. Sometimes if one would break, the next day dad would bring another one to make his little girl happy!
All sorts of clips filled up the drawer. I specially loved those little plastic bow clips from when I was baby. They would be in pairs and in every shades present on the palette. Big and small, they delighted me. And I specially liked if some had a bit of dots or some kind of decorations. Those were more special. I remember a lavender colored bow with white dots. There were single ones also, a bit more fancy ones. A particular one had two small birdies in a nest. The purple nest and yellow tiny beaks of the birdies made it so cute. I still have this one with me. I still have the lavender bow. I still have a white one with black dots. The white color has faded with time into a yellowish one. But even today, when I look at it, feel it and try to put it on my hair, I feel my dad’s love and touch and it makes me smile.
Those rubber bands were cute. I would make two pony tails and tie them up with those cute bands dad had got for me. They had small beads in different shapes and combinations, playing with colors. It would be little blue balls with red rings, cute face of a girl in two ponies, little flowers, bugs. A pair had cream colored rose beads; I wore it for the first time on Ashtami day with the dress my grandma made. It was special.
Once dad bought me a red hairclip with golden edges. Somewhat like for grown up woman. What lady-like I felt putting it on!! I wouldn’t get to wear it often, as it was not childishly cute but more elegant. It was every time a special occasion when I would put it on. One such occasion was the morning when we went to Nagrakot in Nepal for the sunrise. It was not only special because I wore the clip that day; it was because dad had made my hair that day. He had put it on!!!
And I wish to wear all those things again. Those colorful bands, those pretty clips. Everything. Well, maybe not the ones for little babies, but all the rest. All those cute ones. Hm, and on second thought, I can also wear those that are for babies, when I go out on my own, maybe just not to work :)
I wish them. And I can buy them. But I wish someone to buy it for me. I wished to fill pampered and loved with those cute colorful things. I wish dad to buy me those things..
Baba, buy me one hairclip pleaseeee…
আমাকে একটা ক্লিপ কিনে দাও না বাবা...
Coal.. Smoke.. And time goes back..
Little me with my friends would play “train-train”. The “engine” would start with the long “kuuuuuuuu” sound, and the rest of the “coaches” would follow with the slow and rhythmic “jhik-jhik jhik-jhik”. It is something that children were playing from when train was invented to down the generations. It has always been this particular “kuuuuu jhik jhik” melody that I have associated with trains. However, the shrill siren of modern day train doesn’t resemble the romantic melody of “kuuuuu jhik jhik” even the least. Though I sometimes wondered, the question was never strong enough to make me search for an answer. And then suddenly I stumbled over the answer…
Slovenian Railways offer a heritage ride along the Bohijn line. It is a three hours steam train ride from Jesenice to Nova Gorica and back. It runs around 10-12 times a year and during the spring-summer time. On April 24, it was the first ride of the season; and Blaž and I decided to go with it. As we both love trains, we were very much looking forward to the journey the whole week. I even dreamt of the train-ride and was so excited!!
8.50 in the morning the train was scheduled to start. However, we were too impatient to be there at the last moment and decided to reach almost an hour early. Our argument was “we need to have the best possible seat, take pictures before the ride and explore the train a bit if possible”!!
The train was standing in the station with its classic elegance. The black steam engine was standing in pride; and from time to time smoke came out announcing its glory. All ready, the small wooden coaches were standing. I specially loved the coach marked as post with the small yellow drop box for letters. The class III coaches were all wooden and bright; and the single class II coach was cozy and warm-looking with cushioned seats. Being a museum train, it even had a bar cum shop. Of course we had to be the first “children” to go up inside the engine. It was magnificent! The bed of coal in the furnace was burning golden; and six more tons of coal were ready for the journey that was about to begin. We settled down by the window sides of the class II coach (I told you, the reason to come early was to get the good seats); and impatiently I looked at the station clock counting minutes!
“Kuuuuuuuu”, releasing a cloud of black smoke the train started. The wheels rolled for a journey back in time. And at that instant, I knew why it is “kuuuuu jhik-jhik jhik-jhik”….
The siren was loud, deep and melodious; and the train moved in a slow rhythmic fashion. The fast modern trains couldn't compare with it in elegance, charm and romanticism. A children's play from his world of fantasies had to be as romantic as the steam train. And thus, though the train evolved in reality, in a child's world it remained the same. And same stayed all his excitement and wonder for his first train ride. Like Apu and Durga, my mind raced with the train, and for the train...
Out through the window, I kept on looking at the engine. It was like a fairy tale. Green valleys and black engine with smoke coming out, this was the only picture in my mind. And it kept me captive. I tried to count the number of coaches as the train took a turn and smiled within me. Pretty pictures framed in the window passed by. I waved back as a grandma with the children working in the field looked up to wave as the train passed by. We ran through green valleys and passed by gorges. The sound was grand as we hurried over a bridge. And inside the darkness of tunnels, the sparks of fire glowed like golden dots.
From time to time, my face was hit with coal dust from the smoke. The suddenness would make me pull my face back inside for a moment as a reflex; but then again, I was looking out. I remembered the stories my mother told me about her childhood train ride memories. Her excited face would look outside the window. And upon getting hit by coal dust, she would rub her eyes for a moment and look back again..
I realized how moments from history recreated themselves. Time passed by and technologies changed; and yet human wonders, excitement and emotions remained same. These moments of life flow eternally down the generations. There inside the steam train, I was reliving those moments from history; moments that my mother had lived and left behind in her childhood.
The train had reached Nova Gorica, the end of the journey. I stepped down from the past. My face was all black from the coal dust. And as I looked at my reflection, the child face of my mother smiled back. The same face as mine. Dirty black but happy and smiling…
Slovenian Railways offer a heritage ride along the Bohijn line. It is a three hours steam train ride from Jesenice to Nova Gorica and back. It runs around 10-12 times a year and during the spring-summer time. On April 24, it was the first ride of the season; and Blaž and I decided to go with it. As we both love trains, we were very much looking forward to the journey the whole week. I even dreamt of the train-ride and was so excited!!
8.50 in the morning the train was scheduled to start. However, we were too impatient to be there at the last moment and decided to reach almost an hour early. Our argument was “we need to have the best possible seat, take pictures before the ride and explore the train a bit if possible”!!
The train was standing in the station with its classic elegance. The black steam engine was standing in pride; and from time to time smoke came out announcing its glory. All ready, the small wooden coaches were standing. I specially loved the coach marked as post with the small yellow drop box for letters. The class III coaches were all wooden and bright; and the single class II coach was cozy and warm-looking with cushioned seats. Being a museum train, it even had a bar cum shop. Of course we had to be the first “children” to go up inside the engine. It was magnificent! The bed of coal in the furnace was burning golden; and six more tons of coal were ready for the journey that was about to begin. We settled down by the window sides of the class II coach (I told you, the reason to come early was to get the good seats); and impatiently I looked at the station clock counting minutes!
“Kuuuuuuuu”, releasing a cloud of black smoke the train started. The wheels rolled for a journey back in time. And at that instant, I knew why it is “kuuuuu jhik-jhik jhik-jhik”….
The siren was loud, deep and melodious; and the train moved in a slow rhythmic fashion. The fast modern trains couldn't compare with it in elegance, charm and romanticism. A children's play from his world of fantasies had to be as romantic as the steam train. And thus, though the train evolved in reality, in a child's world it remained the same. And same stayed all his excitement and wonder for his first train ride. Like Apu and Durga, my mind raced with the train, and for the train...
Out through the window, I kept on looking at the engine. It was like a fairy tale. Green valleys and black engine with smoke coming out, this was the only picture in my mind. And it kept me captive. I tried to count the number of coaches as the train took a turn and smiled within me. Pretty pictures framed in the window passed by. I waved back as a grandma with the children working in the field looked up to wave as the train passed by. We ran through green valleys and passed by gorges. The sound was grand as we hurried over a bridge. And inside the darkness of tunnels, the sparks of fire glowed like golden dots.
From time to time, my face was hit with coal dust from the smoke. The suddenness would make me pull my face back inside for a moment as a reflex; but then again, I was looking out. I remembered the stories my mother told me about her childhood train ride memories. Her excited face would look outside the window. And upon getting hit by coal dust, she would rub her eyes for a moment and look back again..
I realized how moments from history recreated themselves. Time passed by and technologies changed; and yet human wonders, excitement and emotions remained same. These moments of life flow eternally down the generations. There inside the steam train, I was reliving those moments from history; moments that my mother had lived and left behind in her childhood.
The train had reached Nova Gorica, the end of the journey. I stepped down from the past. My face was all black from the coal dust. And as I looked at my reflection, the child face of my mother smiled back. The same face as mine. Dirty black but happy and smiling…
April 5, 2010
Holding a hand
It was sometime last month; I was meeting my friends in the afternoon. We had planned to go to the Japanese restaurant for some good Sushi. It was a nice afternoon chatting with friends, having some nice sushi, and later some dessert at our usual dessert parlor. And finally we had to decide to go home as there were trains and buses to catch. I was about to catch the bus number 47 that was at 7pm. As there was still some time, I decided to walk to the usual Tobačna stop though some other stop was closer. I feel more comfortable there and anyway it feels better to walk than to wait for the bus impatiently at the stop.
I was standing at the Tobačna crossing waiting for the traffic lights to turn green for me; when I suddenly heard someone talking hurriedly behind. Looking back, I saw an old grandma standing, talking in a loud hurried way. I was quite surprised. I had never seen a beggar there, that too one asking explicitly for money. I didn’t expect her to be one, but also couldn’t guess what the matter was. Anyway I couldn’t understand what she was speaking in Slovene; one of her hand holding some bag was extended and in the other she had a walking stick. I turned away feeling a bit strange and sorry.
The grandma was talking again, and this time I could hear the word ‘rokica’, a cute way of saying hand in Slovene. And then an idea occurred to me. Hearing the word ‘hand’ and from her gesture, I thought maybe she is asking for help in crossing the road. Still unsure and the traffic about to turn green I went to her, and gave my hand.
Getting me there, she excitedly started talking more, and from her gesture I understood she wants me to put my hand such that she can hold my arm for a better grip. The light had just turned green, and grabbing my hand the poor confused grandma hesitantly stepped down on the road. She was slow slow slow. I really had to make an effort to walk along with her. And all the time she was talking something from which I could only understand that she was coming from the market. As fast as she could talk, she walked as much slow. By the time we reached the middle of the road, the traffic was already red again. As it instantly doesn’t turn green for the cars, and as when it did turn green the cars seeing us were nice enough to wait a bit more, we finally managed to ‘cross’ the road!!
Reaching the other side, she was happy and was busy thanking me excitedly, and pampering me. ‘Hvala’ and ‘pridna’ (thanks and good girl) were what I could only get. Then she was saying something and searching in her bag, taking out a bunch of parsley or something and wondering, and searching again. I was standing there completely clueless, and trying to decipher what is happening. And finally when I got that she is trying to give me something for helping her, I politely said that I don’t need anything. Following another series of her saying ‘hvala’ and me ‘prosim’, I finally walked towards my bus stop.
There was still around 15mins for the bus to arrive, and I was just waiting, and saw her walking towards my direction. To cross the bus stop from the traffic she took around 10mins, something that anyone walks in less than 30secs. Such slow and poor was she. Walking slowly, sometimes holding the railing for the support, stopping for a min after few steps, she was visibly poor and slow. She turned towards the direction of some old apartment blocks and my bus also came.
On the way back I was thinking of her. Happy that I just didn’t ignore her because I couldn’t understand what she said but decided to go and see what she needs, I was smiling. I was happy to lend her a hand of support, to help her cross the road. It gave a sense of satisfaction realizing the happiness it gives to hold a hand. And at the same time I was sorry thinking of the poor old grandma, wondering how she is alone, doing all her work on her own. She must feel lonely and maybe that is the reason she was talking so much getting someone by her side. I was happy to brighten up her evening just for a bit.
That single act made my day perfect, complete, happy and satisfied.
I remember the grandma often as I pass the Tobačna stop and crossing almost every day. And then again on Easter Saturday I saw her. I was going with Blaž to the church. His grandma believes that the food must be blessed for Easter but is now too old to go on her own, so we were going instead of her with the basket of food to have it blessed. I was again talking about her, and then I saw her walking in the opposite direction with her basket of blessed food. At first I was not sure if it was her. And then I saw her similar bluish dress, her bag and headscarf, that same old friendly face, and I knew it was her. Also I saw her face brightening as she recognized me. Seeing her face in the daylight, I realized, even though she is old, alone, it had some kind of happiness, satisfaction and was having the friendly smile. I felt good thinking she is not so sad and poor after all. She smiled at us and said ‘Pridna sta’.. you two good ones, you just have to take the basket of food for blessing. And smiling she was again walking slowly on her own way.Her smiling friendly face made me happy again.
I think of her. And I hope to meet her again someday, help her cross, or just pass by, and smile at each other…..
I was standing at the Tobačna crossing waiting for the traffic lights to turn green for me; when I suddenly heard someone talking hurriedly behind. Looking back, I saw an old grandma standing, talking in a loud hurried way. I was quite surprised. I had never seen a beggar there, that too one asking explicitly for money. I didn’t expect her to be one, but also couldn’t guess what the matter was. Anyway I couldn’t understand what she was speaking in Slovene; one of her hand holding some bag was extended and in the other she had a walking stick. I turned away feeling a bit strange and sorry.
The grandma was talking again, and this time I could hear the word ‘rokica’, a cute way of saying hand in Slovene. And then an idea occurred to me. Hearing the word ‘hand’ and from her gesture, I thought maybe she is asking for help in crossing the road. Still unsure and the traffic about to turn green I went to her, and gave my hand.
Getting me there, she excitedly started talking more, and from her gesture I understood she wants me to put my hand such that she can hold my arm for a better grip. The light had just turned green, and grabbing my hand the poor confused grandma hesitantly stepped down on the road. She was slow slow slow. I really had to make an effort to walk along with her. And all the time she was talking something from which I could only understand that she was coming from the market. As fast as she could talk, she walked as much slow. By the time we reached the middle of the road, the traffic was already red again. As it instantly doesn’t turn green for the cars, and as when it did turn green the cars seeing us were nice enough to wait a bit more, we finally managed to ‘cross’ the road!!
Reaching the other side, she was happy and was busy thanking me excitedly, and pampering me. ‘Hvala’ and ‘pridna’ (thanks and good girl) were what I could only get. Then she was saying something and searching in her bag, taking out a bunch of parsley or something and wondering, and searching again. I was standing there completely clueless, and trying to decipher what is happening. And finally when I got that she is trying to give me something for helping her, I politely said that I don’t need anything. Following another series of her saying ‘hvala’ and me ‘prosim’, I finally walked towards my bus stop.
There was still around 15mins for the bus to arrive, and I was just waiting, and saw her walking towards my direction. To cross the bus stop from the traffic she took around 10mins, something that anyone walks in less than 30secs. Such slow and poor was she. Walking slowly, sometimes holding the railing for the support, stopping for a min after few steps, she was visibly poor and slow. She turned towards the direction of some old apartment blocks and my bus also came.
On the way back I was thinking of her. Happy that I just didn’t ignore her because I couldn’t understand what she said but decided to go and see what she needs, I was smiling. I was happy to lend her a hand of support, to help her cross the road. It gave a sense of satisfaction realizing the happiness it gives to hold a hand. And at the same time I was sorry thinking of the poor old grandma, wondering how she is alone, doing all her work on her own. She must feel lonely and maybe that is the reason she was talking so much getting someone by her side. I was happy to brighten up her evening just for a bit.
That single act made my day perfect, complete, happy and satisfied.
I remember the grandma often as I pass the Tobačna stop and crossing almost every day. And then again on Easter Saturday I saw her. I was going with Blaž to the church. His grandma believes that the food must be blessed for Easter but is now too old to go on her own, so we were going instead of her with the basket of food to have it blessed. I was again talking about her, and then I saw her walking in the opposite direction with her basket of blessed food. At first I was not sure if it was her. And then I saw her similar bluish dress, her bag and headscarf, that same old friendly face, and I knew it was her. Also I saw her face brightening as she recognized me. Seeing her face in the daylight, I realized, even though she is old, alone, it had some kind of happiness, satisfaction and was having the friendly smile. I felt good thinking she is not so sad and poor after all. She smiled at us and said ‘Pridna sta’.. you two good ones, you just have to take the basket of food for blessing. And smiling she was again walking slowly on her own way.Her smiling friendly face made me happy again.
I think of her. And I hope to meet her again someday, help her cross, or just pass by, and smile at each other…..
Colorful beads
A small little ball with a hole inside can make everything bright and shining!
Simple and colorful beads jewelry in a store always used to attract me. Not because I am so much into jewelries; their vibrant colors and simplicity were enough to make me fancy them. And I also wished to make them on my own. This wish was strengthened as I looked at the pictures of pretty earrings Urša made. Simply ‘google’ it up, and one can find innumerable tutorials, designs, videos and ideas of how to make the beads jewelry. I already had quite a few ideas in my mind, and only needed to learn the ways of attaching the clips and the supplies before I could start being colorfully creative.
I turned to Urša for help. She is doing it for long and so exactly knows the basic things required in the kit, and where to get them nice and cheap. And I made my list of beads, clips for necklaces, pins for earrings, metal wires for the earrings, nylon wires for the necklace, a pair of craft pliers for bending the wires into shapes; all these that I will buy from the ‘Levček’ store. It is a store I already knew to have all craft items, and Urša also suggested it for getting all items together and cheap. Oh, I almost forgot the cutter for the wires and quickly added it in the list. I asked Urša, who was always helpful in answering all my doubts as clearly as possible and sometimes with aids of pictures, a few more questions regarding methods of doing the ends and so on. And that afternoon, after work, geared up with the basic knowledge, my list, and of course with all enthusiasm, I went to the store along with Blaž. The store is in BTC, and I was still not familiar with going there alone.
The store ‘Levček’ (actually named as ‘pri Levčku’) is in Hall A. It took us a couple of minutes to find, while Blaž was explaining me the plan of BTC so that I can go on my own too when I wish. And there I was standing in my store, already lost in all those colorful things, confused at what ‘not’ to buy despite of my list.
Buying the pliers, cutters, wires, clips and pins were easy. I chose the silver color for wires, pins and clips as I like it more when it comes to jewelry over gold or copper. The more difficult step was choosing the beads. I got some basic black and white beads that can be paired up with almost everything. Of course I had to take some shiny red beads, red being one of my favorite colors that also suits me well. I picked up some box of small wooden beads, some grayish beads, and a small box of white small pipes. I loved the wooden beads and picked up another box with big wooden ones, and one in assorted colors. I had an interesting design idea that called for some big beads, and I chose a box of stone ones in light lavender color. And in the end I couldn’t resist picking up some other hue of red, some white stones, and two types of silver pipes. I left the store with several bags and boxes of these colorful beads, and myself all excited, bubbly and smiling. All the way back home, I was simply thinking of my beads and new ideas!!
Reaching home, the first thing I did was again looking at my new precious possessions. And then I was busy doing the everyday work a bit, cooking and eating dinner and things like that. It was almost time for bed, and I couldn’t resist looking at my beads once more before going to sleep.
Sitting on my carpet, I took out the packet from my craft drawer. Thinking, why to not see if I can make the loops nicely, I took out the pliers and silver wire. Now, I can’t just check if I can make the loops nicely without putting some beads, can I? And with the red beads and small wooden beads, I was there already making my first pair of earrings!! The wire was arranged in a circle and it was some time making the curved wire a bit straight. Then I made some trial arrangements of the beads to check out which looks nicest. Some more efforts the wires with the beads were finally attached to the pins. With the not so perfect and precise loops and losing one small wooden bead in the process, there was my first handmade pair earrings!
Of course I had to also try making a matching anklet. Anklet is my favorite jewelry and I had to try if I can attach the clips for anklets and necklaces. With similar color combination I made the anklet. Thinking if I should I put the beads all over the length or keep some space towards the end so the beads can move, I arranged the beads. A bit hesitantly I decided to keep some space for the movement of the beads. And at the end, everything turned out just perfect.
More than making the jewelry itself, the creativity gave me pleasure and satisfaction. I found myself again enthusiastic about something that makes my heart happy. I was there doing it till it is done as I wished it to be, forgetting time and other things! The only thing in my mind was giving shape to my creative ideas.
Putting them on me, I was looking at the mirror. From every angle I checked, judging my work and how it looks on me. And now my first pair of earrings and anklets ready, I had to wear them at the earliest possible! I changed the next day’s dress for work to some red top. And finally I was there in bed, quite late than I initially planned to, smiling happily and dreaming of my red earrings and anklets!!
Simple and colorful beads jewelry in a store always used to attract me. Not because I am so much into jewelries; their vibrant colors and simplicity were enough to make me fancy them. And I also wished to make them on my own. This wish was strengthened as I looked at the pictures of pretty earrings Urša made. Simply ‘google’ it up, and one can find innumerable tutorials, designs, videos and ideas of how to make the beads jewelry. I already had quite a few ideas in my mind, and only needed to learn the ways of attaching the clips and the supplies before I could start being colorfully creative.
I turned to Urša for help. She is doing it for long and so exactly knows the basic things required in the kit, and where to get them nice and cheap. And I made my list of beads, clips for necklaces, pins for earrings, metal wires for the earrings, nylon wires for the necklace, a pair of craft pliers for bending the wires into shapes; all these that I will buy from the ‘Levček’ store. It is a store I already knew to have all craft items, and Urša also suggested it for getting all items together and cheap. Oh, I almost forgot the cutter for the wires and quickly added it in the list. I asked Urša, who was always helpful in answering all my doubts as clearly as possible and sometimes with aids of pictures, a few more questions regarding methods of doing the ends and so on. And that afternoon, after work, geared up with the basic knowledge, my list, and of course with all enthusiasm, I went to the store along with Blaž. The store is in BTC, and I was still not familiar with going there alone.
The store ‘Levček’ (actually named as ‘pri Levčku’) is in Hall A. It took us a couple of minutes to find, while Blaž was explaining me the plan of BTC so that I can go on my own too when I wish. And there I was standing in my store, already lost in all those colorful things, confused at what ‘not’ to buy despite of my list.
Buying the pliers, cutters, wires, clips and pins were easy. I chose the silver color for wires, pins and clips as I like it more when it comes to jewelry over gold or copper. The more difficult step was choosing the beads. I got some basic black and white beads that can be paired up with almost everything. Of course I had to take some shiny red beads, red being one of my favorite colors that also suits me well. I picked up some box of small wooden beads, some grayish beads, and a small box of white small pipes. I loved the wooden beads and picked up another box with big wooden ones, and one in assorted colors. I had an interesting design idea that called for some big beads, and I chose a box of stone ones in light lavender color. And in the end I couldn’t resist picking up some other hue of red, some white stones, and two types of silver pipes. I left the store with several bags and boxes of these colorful beads, and myself all excited, bubbly and smiling. All the way back home, I was simply thinking of my beads and new ideas!!
Reaching home, the first thing I did was again looking at my new precious possessions. And then I was busy doing the everyday work a bit, cooking and eating dinner and things like that. It was almost time for bed, and I couldn’t resist looking at my beads once more before going to sleep.
Sitting on my carpet, I took out the packet from my craft drawer. Thinking, why to not see if I can make the loops nicely, I took out the pliers and silver wire. Now, I can’t just check if I can make the loops nicely without putting some beads, can I? And with the red beads and small wooden beads, I was there already making my first pair of earrings!! The wire was arranged in a circle and it was some time making the curved wire a bit straight. Then I made some trial arrangements of the beads to check out which looks nicest. Some more efforts the wires with the beads were finally attached to the pins. With the not so perfect and precise loops and losing one small wooden bead in the process, there was my first handmade pair earrings!
Of course I had to also try making a matching anklet. Anklet is my favorite jewelry and I had to try if I can attach the clips for anklets and necklaces. With similar color combination I made the anklet. Thinking if I should I put the beads all over the length or keep some space towards the end so the beads can move, I arranged the beads. A bit hesitantly I decided to keep some space for the movement of the beads. And at the end, everything turned out just perfect.
More than making the jewelry itself, the creativity gave me pleasure and satisfaction. I found myself again enthusiastic about something that makes my heart happy. I was there doing it till it is done as I wished it to be, forgetting time and other things! The only thing in my mind was giving shape to my creative ideas.
Putting them on me, I was looking at the mirror. From every angle I checked, judging my work and how it looks on me. And now my first pair of earrings and anklets ready, I had to wear them at the earliest possible! I changed the next day’s dress for work to some red top. And finally I was there in bed, quite late than I initially planned to, smiling happily and dreaming of my red earrings and anklets!!
The Bengali fonts
Sometimes my thoughts are best expressed in Bengali. I simply let my thoughts flow and write as if I am talking to myself. Of course, it is best to write and read Bengali in the Bengali font; and for the past one year I was trying to make the Bengali font software work in my computer and write using it. I would also read others writing using Bengali font in the BMTP community where I myself write from time to time, and this made my wish more strong..
I had downloaded and installed the software long ago, but never managed to write a complete paragraph using it.
The first problem was using the keyboard. I have European keyboard, and of course the default keyboard layout is set to that. However, if I try to type using the software in Bengali fonts, it sets the keyboard layout to English and I am here lost in the keyboard, not knowing which key is which. It is easy to remember that ‘z’ and ‘y’ have interchanged places. But I forget even that when I type in a flow, not looking so much at the keyboard. And the special symbols become a complete mess. I need them more than to simply use them for punctuation. I need them to write the conjugated alphabets and special phonetics. It is so annoying if I suddenly get stuck up with a word because I don’t know where a particular symbol is on the keyboard!
The other reason that I was sort of procrastinating using the software is that it is slow to type like that. I have to type keeping in mind the phonetics. And when I am writing Bengali using English fonts, I sort of follow the phonetics of course, but not to the exact precision. So, well, it is slow slow. By the time I finish typing two sentences, the flow is lost, and the mood of writing is lost. And simply I leave the software, shifting to normal English fonts!
But finally this time, I was really determined to try. I had this free evening and I was thinking of making one of my previous posts here in this blog (Lost home) into Bengali for the community. And this time it had to be using Bengali fonts. It was a bit easier as I already had the post ready, my thought already put into words; the only work was typing that in Bengali.
So with all enthusiasm I started. And it took me forever. Sometimes I was not sure how to write a particular word! I was stuck up in the middle and didn’t know how to write the 'ঙ্গ' of 'জঙ্গল', and many more of the conjugated alphabets. Sometimes forgetting to use the uppercase alphabets, I was turning 'বড়ো' into 'বর', and other times jumbling up with 'শ', 'ষ', 'স' which are supposed to be written as sh/S, Sh, s respectively with mere messing up with lower/upper cases. 'ঁ' is written with '^'; and as the layout had changed, I had no clue where to find the '^'. And same it was with finding 'inverted commas' and other punctuations. And so on.. It took me the whole evening to type something that I could have easily done in less than half an hour if I was not trying to use the Bengali fonts.
But in the end it was all worth the effort and the experience was satisfying. It felt so good to see finally myself using the Bengali fonts to write Bengali in the computer. It was easy, comfortable and a great pleasure to read it later, even though it had a few spelling mistakes. It was simply perfect to see myself writing in my mother tongue using the original fonts…
I was never a computer girl, and I remember how in school we started using the computer. It was amazing and even impossible for me to think of typing in Bengali fonts back in those days. And today I typed in Bengali myself for the first time. It is amazing to experience a impossible thought of then to turn into reality now..
Here below it is my first ever real Bengali post!
গৃহহীন
কলকাতায় আমাদের যেখানে বাড়ি, সেখানে এখন অব্দিও বেশ সবুজের ছোঁয়া ছিল। আসলে, আশেপাশে অনেক ফাঁকা জমি পরে আছে বাড়ি হওয়ার অপেক্ষায়। যদিও জানি একদিন সব ভরে যাবে কংক্রিটের জঙ্গলে, কিন্তু ততদিন আমরা উপভোগ করে যাচ্ছি এই সবুজকে। গাছপালা তো আর জানে না যে তারা মানুষের ইচ্ছায় সীমিত, তাই তারা বেরে চলেছে আপন মনে, আর নানান পাখি, জন্তু-জানোয়াড় গড়ে তুলেছে তাদের বাসস্থান।
আমাদের বাড়ির ঠিক পিছনের এই ফাঁকা জমিটাতে দাঁড়িয়ে ছিল দুটো বড়ো বড়ো গাছ। আর, চারিদিক ভরা ছিল নানা ঝোঁপঝাড়ে। এক বন্য সবুজের ছিল ভাব। গাছ দুটোতে ছিল নানা পাখির বাসা, আর ঝোঁপঝাড়-গর্তের মধ্যে বাড়ি খুঁজে নিয়েছিল ছট্টো ছট্টো জীব। সকাল বেলা ঘুম ভাঙ্গতো নানা পাখির কলতানে। কাক, চড়াই, শালিকের সাথে সাথে উড়ে আসতো নানা রকমের মাছরাঙা, কাঠঠোকরা, ঘুঘু, কাদাখোঁচা, বদ্রিকা, বউ-কথা-ক, টিয়া, বুলবুল, ফিঁঙের দল। ঝোপের ফাঁকে একটা বেজী হঠাত্ দৌড়ে গেল। আর কাঠবিড়ালী তার লেজটি তুলে আমাদের পাঁচিলে বসে কুটকুট করে খেত বাদাম। ককিল তার গানের সুরে জানাত বসন্তের আগমন। পড়ন্ত সূর্যের সাথে সাথে পাখিরা ফিরত তাদের বাসায়। কলরবে মুখর তারা কথা বলত নিজেদের মধ্যে, সারাদিন কি কি করল, কি কি দেখল, কটা পোকা ধরল। এই কলতান যেন হয়ে উঠত কোন শ্রেষ্ঠ সুরমূর্চ্ছনা। শান্তির আবেশ নিযে আসত এই এক টুকরো সবুজ। প্রকৃতি মা যেন কোল পেতে কাছে ডাকছে।
কিন্তু অবশেষে কেড়ে নেওয়া হলো এই সবুজের টুকরো এক ইমারতের প্রস্তুতিতে। যদিও জানতাম এ অবসম্ভাবী, তাও মন মানে না। জমিটির আসল মালিক ওটা বেঁচে দিয়েছেন, এবং নতুন মালিক ইতিমধ্যেই তার বাড়ি তৈরী করতে শুরু করে দিয়েছেন। আর তার প্রথম পদক্ষেপ ছিল ওই গাছ দুটি কেটে ফেলা।
সেই সকালটা শুরু হয়েছিল গাছের গায়ে কুড়ালের আঘাতের সাথে। আর, সন্ধ্যের মধ্যে ওই বড় গাছ দুটো মাটিতে পড়ে ছিল শুধুমাত্র কিছু কাঠ হয়ে। এক বেলার মধ্যে ওই একফালি শান্ত সবুজ পরিণত হয়েছিল এক বঞ্জর জমিতে। শীঘ্রই সেখানে গড়ে উঠবে এক আধুনিক বাসস্থান।
সেই বিকেলে যখন পাখিরা ফিরল, তাদের বাসা খুঁজে পেল না তারা। গাছ দুটো পরে আছে মাটিতে। আর, যেই বাসায় তারা ফিরে এসেছিল, তা আর নেই। বেজীরা বুঝল না, তাদের নিশ্চিন্তে লুকানোর জায়গাটা হঠাত্ কোথায় গেল। পাখির কলতান সেদিন বলছিল না তাদের সারাদিনের গল্প, তা শুধু বলছিল তাদের বিস্ময় মাখানো হতাশার কথা। কোন সুর ছিল না তাতে, ছিল শুধু গৃহহীন হওয়ার বেদনা, কান্না। বহুদিনের পরিশ্রমে একটি একটি খড়-কুটো জোগাড় করে তারা যেখানে বানিয়েছিল তাদের বাসা, এক নিরাপদ আশ্রয়, সেখানে এখন একটা একটা ইট দিয়ে গড়ে উঠবে অন্য কারোর বাড়ি। রাত পর্জন্ত তারা ব্যার্থ আশায় খুঁজে চলল, নালিশ জানাল। তারপর ক্লান্ত হয়ে ফিরে গেল, হেরে গেল। চলে গেল তারা। প্রকৃতি চিরতরের জন্যে ফিরিয়ে নিল মুখ। আর কোনো বসন্তে ডাকবে না কোন কোকিল সেখানে, ডিম পারার জন্যে কাকের বাসাটাই তো আর নেই।
শুধু আমরা কোনদিনও বোঝার চেষ্টা করলাম না যে আমাদের বাড়ির ভীত আমরা গড়ে তুলছি অন্য কারোর বাড়ির ধ্বংসাবশেষে।।
I had downloaded and installed the software long ago, but never managed to write a complete paragraph using it.
The first problem was using the keyboard. I have European keyboard, and of course the default keyboard layout is set to that. However, if I try to type using the software in Bengali fonts, it sets the keyboard layout to English and I am here lost in the keyboard, not knowing which key is which. It is easy to remember that ‘z’ and ‘y’ have interchanged places. But I forget even that when I type in a flow, not looking so much at the keyboard. And the special symbols become a complete mess. I need them more than to simply use them for punctuation. I need them to write the conjugated alphabets and special phonetics. It is so annoying if I suddenly get stuck up with a word because I don’t know where a particular symbol is on the keyboard!
The other reason that I was sort of procrastinating using the software is that it is slow to type like that. I have to type keeping in mind the phonetics. And when I am writing Bengali using English fonts, I sort of follow the phonetics of course, but not to the exact precision. So, well, it is slow slow. By the time I finish typing two sentences, the flow is lost, and the mood of writing is lost. And simply I leave the software, shifting to normal English fonts!
But finally this time, I was really determined to try. I had this free evening and I was thinking of making one of my previous posts here in this blog (Lost home) into Bengali for the community. And this time it had to be using Bengali fonts. It was a bit easier as I already had the post ready, my thought already put into words; the only work was typing that in Bengali.
So with all enthusiasm I started. And it took me forever. Sometimes I was not sure how to write a particular word! I was stuck up in the middle and didn’t know how to write the 'ঙ্গ' of 'জঙ্গল', and many more of the conjugated alphabets. Sometimes forgetting to use the uppercase alphabets, I was turning 'বড়ো' into 'বর', and other times jumbling up with 'শ', 'ষ', 'স' which are supposed to be written as sh/S, Sh, s respectively with mere messing up with lower/upper cases. 'ঁ' is written with '^'; and as the layout had changed, I had no clue where to find the '^'. And same it was with finding 'inverted commas' and other punctuations. And so on.. It took me the whole evening to type something that I could have easily done in less than half an hour if I was not trying to use the Bengali fonts.
But in the end it was all worth the effort and the experience was satisfying. It felt so good to see finally myself using the Bengali fonts to write Bengali in the computer. It was easy, comfortable and a great pleasure to read it later, even though it had a few spelling mistakes. It was simply perfect to see myself writing in my mother tongue using the original fonts…
I was never a computer girl, and I remember how in school we started using the computer. It was amazing and even impossible for me to think of typing in Bengali fonts back in those days. And today I typed in Bengali myself for the first time. It is amazing to experience a impossible thought of then to turn into reality now..
Here below it is my first ever real Bengali post!
গৃহহীন
কলকাতায় আমাদের যেখানে বাড়ি, সেখানে এখন অব্দিও বেশ সবুজের ছোঁয়া ছিল। আসলে, আশেপাশে অনেক ফাঁকা জমি পরে আছে বাড়ি হওয়ার অপেক্ষায়। যদিও জানি একদিন সব ভরে যাবে কংক্রিটের জঙ্গলে, কিন্তু ততদিন আমরা উপভোগ করে যাচ্ছি এই সবুজকে। গাছপালা তো আর জানে না যে তারা মানুষের ইচ্ছায় সীমিত, তাই তারা বেরে চলেছে আপন মনে, আর নানান পাখি, জন্তু-জানোয়াড় গড়ে তুলেছে তাদের বাসস্থান।
আমাদের বাড়ির ঠিক পিছনের এই ফাঁকা জমিটাতে দাঁড়িয়ে ছিল দুটো বড়ো বড়ো গাছ। আর, চারিদিক ভরা ছিল নানা ঝোঁপঝাড়ে। এক বন্য সবুজের ছিল ভাব। গাছ দুটোতে ছিল নানা পাখির বাসা, আর ঝোঁপঝাড়-গর্তের মধ্যে বাড়ি খুঁজে নিয়েছিল ছট্টো ছট্টো জীব। সকাল বেলা ঘুম ভাঙ্গতো নানা পাখির কলতানে। কাক, চড়াই, শালিকের সাথে সাথে উড়ে আসতো নানা রকমের মাছরাঙা, কাঠঠোকরা, ঘুঘু, কাদাখোঁচা, বদ্রিকা, বউ-কথা-ক, টিয়া, বুলবুল, ফিঁঙের দল। ঝোপের ফাঁকে একটা বেজী হঠাত্ দৌড়ে গেল। আর কাঠবিড়ালী তার লেজটি তুলে আমাদের পাঁচিলে বসে কুটকুট করে খেত বাদাম। ককিল তার গানের সুরে জানাত বসন্তের আগমন। পড়ন্ত সূর্যের সাথে সাথে পাখিরা ফিরত তাদের বাসায়। কলরবে মুখর তারা কথা বলত নিজেদের মধ্যে, সারাদিন কি কি করল, কি কি দেখল, কটা পোকা ধরল। এই কলতান যেন হয়ে উঠত কোন শ্রেষ্ঠ সুরমূর্চ্ছনা। শান্তির আবেশ নিযে আসত এই এক টুকরো সবুজ। প্রকৃতি মা যেন কোল পেতে কাছে ডাকছে।
কিন্তু অবশেষে কেড়ে নেওয়া হলো এই সবুজের টুকরো এক ইমারতের প্রস্তুতিতে। যদিও জানতাম এ অবসম্ভাবী, তাও মন মানে না। জমিটির আসল মালিক ওটা বেঁচে দিয়েছেন, এবং নতুন মালিক ইতিমধ্যেই তার বাড়ি তৈরী করতে শুরু করে দিয়েছেন। আর তার প্রথম পদক্ষেপ ছিল ওই গাছ দুটি কেটে ফেলা।
সেই সকালটা শুরু হয়েছিল গাছের গায়ে কুড়ালের আঘাতের সাথে। আর, সন্ধ্যের মধ্যে ওই বড় গাছ দুটো মাটিতে পড়ে ছিল শুধুমাত্র কিছু কাঠ হয়ে। এক বেলার মধ্যে ওই একফালি শান্ত সবুজ পরিণত হয়েছিল এক বঞ্জর জমিতে। শীঘ্রই সেখানে গড়ে উঠবে এক আধুনিক বাসস্থান।
সেই বিকেলে যখন পাখিরা ফিরল, তাদের বাসা খুঁজে পেল না তারা। গাছ দুটো পরে আছে মাটিতে। আর, যেই বাসায় তারা ফিরে এসেছিল, তা আর নেই। বেজীরা বুঝল না, তাদের নিশ্চিন্তে লুকানোর জায়গাটা হঠাত্ কোথায় গেল। পাখির কলতান সেদিন বলছিল না তাদের সারাদিনের গল্প, তা শুধু বলছিল তাদের বিস্ময় মাখানো হতাশার কথা। কোন সুর ছিল না তাতে, ছিল শুধু গৃহহীন হওয়ার বেদনা, কান্না। বহুদিনের পরিশ্রমে একটি একটি খড়-কুটো জোগাড় করে তারা যেখানে বানিয়েছিল তাদের বাসা, এক নিরাপদ আশ্রয়, সেখানে এখন একটা একটা ইট দিয়ে গড়ে উঠবে অন্য কারোর বাড়ি। রাত পর্জন্ত তারা ব্যার্থ আশায় খুঁজে চলল, নালিশ জানাল। তারপর ক্লান্ত হয়ে ফিরে গেল, হেরে গেল। চলে গেল তারা। প্রকৃতি চিরতরের জন্যে ফিরিয়ে নিল মুখ। আর কোনো বসন্তে ডাকবে না কোন কোকিল সেখানে, ডিম পারার জন্যে কাকের বাসাটাই তো আর নেই।
শুধু আমরা কোনদিনও বোঝার চেষ্টা করলাম না যে আমাদের বাড়ির ভীত আমরা গড়ে তুলছি অন্য কারোর বাড়ির ধ্বংসাবশেষে।।
March 10, 2010
Snowflakes
Looking outside through my laboratory window, I can see pretty snowflakes floating in the air, and slowly descending down. The beginning of this week brought a very bad weather. It was cold, snowy, and worst of all windy, as if the winter before going away took a step back. However, this particular snowy day brought with it back the memory of my first snow.
It was some work day, but I went late to the work. I was getting the internet connection at my flat. It was drizzling, and I noticed some small droplets of ice falling along. And though Blaž said they are just frozen droplets, it could not discourage me. I was secretly hoping for those droplets to turn into pretty flakes. And it did start snowing. Slowly those frozen droplets turned to soft cottony pretty flakes. And it was snowing!!! A thin white layer was covering the brown roofs and road below. And I reached out to catch a pretty one. My heart was singing happily. My first snow!
On the way to the bus stand, I was making footsteps on the little path through the park. I liked the snowflakes falling on my coat, my hat, and then one fell on my nose tip. I didn’t use the umbrella. Somehow I was wishing to catch all of them. I looked at them, my eyes shining happily and full of wonder. The child in me just smiled looking at this wonder of nature. How every snowflake had a different pattern! I wondered how the droplets of water formed those pretty hexagonal structures. I wondered and questioned like a child would. I looked with awe as I saw the city turning white.
The snowflakes danced in the wind, and my heart danced with it. How could I concentrate on work? Every minute I was looking out of the window, the snow had become thicker and heavier! The snowflakes were floating, dancing, making a whirlwind. It was one of the prettiest sights I had ever seen. Everything freshly covered with the pristine white looked like a fairy tale. The trees were covered with snow, and it was a nice combination of white, green and brown. The lamp posts had caps on them. Sidewalks were white with only footsteps barely visible. I liked the munching sound of snow beneath as I walked.
I wished to run around in the park now snowy. The green wooden benches were white. We decided to be a baby, built a snowman instead of taking the earliest bus. And there I started making my first snowman. It was an ecstatic feeling rolling piles of snow and see the first snowman take its form. I neglected my hands almost freezing. We laughed like babies, singing merry songs. Two dry sticks made the hands, and with a bit of difficulty the head was on. And behold, there was our snowman smiling at us!!
I was so excited, and had to call home soon after I was back in the evening. I had to tell my first snow experience. The whole evening I was only talking about the snow and how I feel about it. And the excitement was not yet over. At night, we decided to take a snowy night walk.
Something that I had dreamt for long was turning into a reality. A snowy day and a romantic night walk in the snow. I remember how two years ago I saw the snowy video, and wished to experience it so much. And finally we were there holding hands and walking together in that snowy night. There was no one else, and the only sound was those of the falling snow. It was all silent and dark night; yet very bright as street light was reflected by the snow, and the sound of falling snowflakes gave a certain sense of peace and calmness to the silence. It was not lonely silence, it was happy and warm. We walked down some small hilly meadow. We did not take the road and let our feet sink in the snow. Crossing the highway we went to the other side, towards the fields. And there we were just standing, holding hands, feeling the silence, the warmth. It gave a feeling of completeness. As if all questions were answered, all wishes granted. We just stood there letting the happiness, love, silence, warmth, and beauty seep deep inside out hearts.
We explored the fields and ditches a bit. And I wished to lie down on the snow. Looking up at the sky, I let the flakes fall on me, on my face. Every moment I enjoyed feeling a single snowflake touching my skin, every moment I remember.
It was pretty under the street lights when I could see the snowflakes dancing. The little posts of the fences had caps on them, and so had the lamp posts, electric poles. The wire fence had a layer of snow on each wire, making a snowy mesh. Trees all white were glowing in the orangish lamp lights.
And how much I try to explain what I felt that day, and put into words the thoughts going through my mind, I am not able to. I can only say it was wonder, pretty, dream like, romantic, warm, merry.. And I can use rows of adjectives but yet without expressing my emotions. I only can say that my heart was happy, fluttering and singing. It skipped a bit, and made a hop, and said: Dear girl, for a day like this, I can beat one day more!!
It was some work day, but I went late to the work. I was getting the internet connection at my flat. It was drizzling, and I noticed some small droplets of ice falling along. And though Blaž said they are just frozen droplets, it could not discourage me. I was secretly hoping for those droplets to turn into pretty flakes. And it did start snowing. Slowly those frozen droplets turned to soft cottony pretty flakes. And it was snowing!!! A thin white layer was covering the brown roofs and road below. And I reached out to catch a pretty one. My heart was singing happily. My first snow!
On the way to the bus stand, I was making footsteps on the little path through the park. I liked the snowflakes falling on my coat, my hat, and then one fell on my nose tip. I didn’t use the umbrella. Somehow I was wishing to catch all of them. I looked at them, my eyes shining happily and full of wonder. The child in me just smiled looking at this wonder of nature. How every snowflake had a different pattern! I wondered how the droplets of water formed those pretty hexagonal structures. I wondered and questioned like a child would. I looked with awe as I saw the city turning white.
The snowflakes danced in the wind, and my heart danced with it. How could I concentrate on work? Every minute I was looking out of the window, the snow had become thicker and heavier! The snowflakes were floating, dancing, making a whirlwind. It was one of the prettiest sights I had ever seen. Everything freshly covered with the pristine white looked like a fairy tale. The trees were covered with snow, and it was a nice combination of white, green and brown. The lamp posts had caps on them. Sidewalks were white with only footsteps barely visible. I liked the munching sound of snow beneath as I walked.
I wished to run around in the park now snowy. The green wooden benches were white. We decided to be a baby, built a snowman instead of taking the earliest bus. And there I started making my first snowman. It was an ecstatic feeling rolling piles of snow and see the first snowman take its form. I neglected my hands almost freezing. We laughed like babies, singing merry songs. Two dry sticks made the hands, and with a bit of difficulty the head was on. And behold, there was our snowman smiling at us!!
I was so excited, and had to call home soon after I was back in the evening. I had to tell my first snow experience. The whole evening I was only talking about the snow and how I feel about it. And the excitement was not yet over. At night, we decided to take a snowy night walk.
Something that I had dreamt for long was turning into a reality. A snowy day and a romantic night walk in the snow. I remember how two years ago I saw the snowy video, and wished to experience it so much. And finally we were there holding hands and walking together in that snowy night. There was no one else, and the only sound was those of the falling snow. It was all silent and dark night; yet very bright as street light was reflected by the snow, and the sound of falling snowflakes gave a certain sense of peace and calmness to the silence. It was not lonely silence, it was happy and warm. We walked down some small hilly meadow. We did not take the road and let our feet sink in the snow. Crossing the highway we went to the other side, towards the fields. And there we were just standing, holding hands, feeling the silence, the warmth. It gave a feeling of completeness. As if all questions were answered, all wishes granted. We just stood there letting the happiness, love, silence, warmth, and beauty seep deep inside out hearts.
We explored the fields and ditches a bit. And I wished to lie down on the snow. Looking up at the sky, I let the flakes fall on me, on my face. Every moment I enjoyed feeling a single snowflake touching my skin, every moment I remember.
It was pretty under the street lights when I could see the snowflakes dancing. The little posts of the fences had caps on them, and so had the lamp posts, electric poles. The wire fence had a layer of snow on each wire, making a snowy mesh. Trees all white were glowing in the orangish lamp lights.
And how much I try to explain what I felt that day, and put into words the thoughts going through my mind, I am not able to. I can only say it was wonder, pretty, dream like, romantic, warm, merry.. And I can use rows of adjectives but yet without expressing my emotions. I only can say that my heart was happy, fluttering and singing. It skipped a bit, and made a hop, and said: Dear girl, for a day like this, I can beat one day more!!
March 9, 2010
I am life's dream
I am born as life's dream.
My shining eyes are to bring smile to others. My gentle footsteps that run around in your house brings all life, makes it lively. My smile without a reason, my meaningless talks. I am my parents’ dreams. I try to dress up like my mother, to be like her. I am the princess, my father’s doll. I play with dolls, and I try to cook. I try to do everything that I see you do. I care for my little brother. I play with him all those games that have no sense. I draw, I bring colors. I read in a quest of knowing the world. My big eyes look up at the sky wondering, and one day I wish to fly in the vast blue. I lose myself on the wings of a butterfly. I climb up the trees and spoil my dress. And so carefully I dress up my doll. I try to be good. And I argue. I care for you. But I don’t silently accept if you hurt me, and I answer back. I study, be good in school. One day I wish to make my name in this world. I love, I care, I give and share, but when time comes I also know how to snatch. I grow up, but I don’t leave my dreams behind. I see a bigger world. I take my responsibilities. I can now be your support. And will always need your support. I do what I wished to do in life. I make my life, I take my own decisions. I am confused, I am afraid. Yet I am positive, optimistic. I have faith, so much impossible it may be. I am capable of doing something just for my heart. And also my mind rules. I make the bread, and I earn it too. I evolve, but I still remain life’s dream.
I leave my playhouse behind to make it a reality. I make your house my home. I give you all my love, and wish only love in return. I work whole day like you, but I am never tired to come home and cook for you. But, when one day you cook for me, I can’t stop smiling the whole day. I share your dreams, and even your worries. Your responsibilities I think as my own. As road takes a turn I leave its hand, I would rather stay and turn with you. I am strong and fragile. I am your support and inspiration. And there are times, when I break down, the only thing I need then is your hand. I fight for you and I fight with you. And the next moment I am hugging you back. But I don’t only remain by you silently. I have my dreams, and I work for them. I give you my dreams; I wish you dream with me. And sometimes I wish to be left alone. I make my own steps in life, but I don’t move so far that I will leave you behind. You make me complete, you are my other half. And at the same time, when you search for the lost half of your soul, you come to me. You know you need me to be complete. When I say I belong to you, I wish you belong to me the same way. I turn all yours and mine into ours. I become yours, but I still remain life’s dream.
And like I was my parents’ dream, I now paint those dreams in your eyes. I leave my heart and life in you, when I make you touch life. I feed you first before I eat. I keep you away from all things bad. And when you don’t do what is right, I am not hesitant to be harsh. When you are ill, I am awake all night. I answer all the questions you have. I am where you hide when the day was bad. Afraid at night when you scream in your sleep, I run to you, hold you to my heart. And unless you are at peace and safe, I don’t let sleep touch my eyes. I understand your silence, I understand your pain; I understand when your eyes sparkle with joy. And even though you are my dream, I let you dream with your own eyes. I am there by you when you win the race. But if you fall on the way, I don’t run to pick you up; I stand by and let you grow. Yet, every moment with love and care, I walk by you and show you life. So one day, when you are on your own, you will know how to fly. And then one day, I let you go. I know you are now ready for the world. But somehow, I always stay there, so that you can return for a hug. And when I need a hug on some lonely day, I am there looking at your way. And there, I see you come. Along the way I have given you my dreams, but still I remain life’s dream.
I am a baby, a daughter, a girl, a sister, a granddaughter, a student, a friend, a lady, a lover, a careerist, a boss, a wife, a daughter-in-law, a mother, a grandmother, a princess, a home, a support, a hope, a stranger, a dream, a woman. And in all these I leave pieces of my dreams, dreaming to see a complete collage. I am life’s dream...
March 8, 2010
Lost home
Our home in Kolkata is at a place which was till date relatively green. There are many vacant plots around waiting for houses to be built. Though we knew someday there will be houses everywhere, we were enjoying the green. Trees and bushes don’t know that they are limited by human actions, and were growing freely; whereas various animals had made their homes there.
This vacant plot of land behind our house had two big trees and many bushes, some even growing human size. Looking at this green gave the feeling of being close to some wilderness. A variety of birds had built their nests on those trees, and small animals made those bushes, holes in the ground their home. In the morning it was soothing to look at the green, enjoy the chirping of the birds. It was a paradise for common birds like crows, sparrows, shalik, to different kinds of kingfishers, woodpeckers, doves, kadakhocha, badrika, bou-katha-ka, parrots, bulbul, finge and many more. You would suddenly see a mongoose running by, and it was fun watching the squirrels eating nuts sitting on our back fence. Cuckoos used to sing declaring the spring time. And it was a real delight to watch the birds returning home as dusk would approach. Birds in flocks would come back to the safe shelter of their nests, chirping, telling their stories and adventures of the day to each other, creating one of the most beautiful music. This piece of green for us provided a soothing lap of Mother Nature.
And this January, when we were in India, this piece of green was snatched away in the preparation of turning it into concrete. Even though we already saw it coming, it made us sad no less. The original owner finally sold the plot, and the new owner is already building his house. And the first thing done was clearing the plot, cutting down those trees..
One morning we got up to see axes striking the thick trunks of those trees. And at the end of the day, those two big trees were there lying as pieces of wood. The green land was turned into a barren one with only some roots of those bushes and grasses visible. And soon it will turn into some modern house.
As the birds returned that evening, they didn’t find their nests. The trees were lying down as pieces on ground; and their homes, where they returned to, were gone. The mongoose didn’t know anymore where to hide. The chirping of the birds that evening didn’t tell their stories, it was of despair. It didn’t make music; it was only their cries for their lost home. Each single piece of straw they had picked for days to build their nests; and now brick by brick someone else’s home will come up there. Till late in the evening, they complained, they searched for in vain. And helplessly they finally gave in. They were gone! Nature forever turned its face away from there. No birds will be there to make music anymore. No cuckoo will ever sign there again, as there will be no crow nest to lay its egg.
And we will never realize that we are building the foundation of our home on shattered homes of others.
This vacant plot of land behind our house had two big trees and many bushes, some even growing human size. Looking at this green gave the feeling of being close to some wilderness. A variety of birds had built their nests on those trees, and small animals made those bushes, holes in the ground their home. In the morning it was soothing to look at the green, enjoy the chirping of the birds. It was a paradise for common birds like crows, sparrows, shalik, to different kinds of kingfishers, woodpeckers, doves, kadakhocha, badrika, bou-katha-ka, parrots, bulbul, finge and many more. You would suddenly see a mongoose running by, and it was fun watching the squirrels eating nuts sitting on our back fence. Cuckoos used to sing declaring the spring time. And it was a real delight to watch the birds returning home as dusk would approach. Birds in flocks would come back to the safe shelter of their nests, chirping, telling their stories and adventures of the day to each other, creating one of the most beautiful music. This piece of green for us provided a soothing lap of Mother Nature.
And this January, when we were in India, this piece of green was snatched away in the preparation of turning it into concrete. Even though we already saw it coming, it made us sad no less. The original owner finally sold the plot, and the new owner is already building his house. And the first thing done was clearing the plot, cutting down those trees..
One morning we got up to see axes striking the thick trunks of those trees. And at the end of the day, those two big trees were there lying as pieces of wood. The green land was turned into a barren one with only some roots of those bushes and grasses visible. And soon it will turn into some modern house.
As the birds returned that evening, they didn’t find their nests. The trees were lying down as pieces on ground; and their homes, where they returned to, were gone. The mongoose didn’t know anymore where to hide. The chirping of the birds that evening didn’t tell their stories, it was of despair. It didn’t make music; it was only their cries for their lost home. Each single piece of straw they had picked for days to build their nests; and now brick by brick someone else’s home will come up there. Till late in the evening, they complained, they searched for in vain. And helplessly they finally gave in. They were gone! Nature forever turned its face away from there. No birds will be there to make music anymore. No cuckoo will ever sign there again, as there will be no crow nest to lay its egg.
And we will never realize that we are building the foundation of our home on shattered homes of others.
January 4, 2010
What is in the air??
And I wonder what is in the air. One may think why I am asking this question! When I feel the approaching festivity in the air, I wonder, what is in the air!!
It was 24th December this year, the day before Christmas. After waking up, while getting ready for work, my mood was a mixture of happy and brooding. Happy as it will be Christmas Eve, and Christmas the next day, holidays, time for festivity, good food, and nice time with everyone. And brooding because I had to go to work, and the weather forecast was for rain, and the nice snow from previous week had already melted.
But when I came out of the house to go to work, my gray mood was completely gone. I smelled the crisp air, and felt the chill in it, and wondered myself, “what is in the air”!!
Before the Durga Puja in Bengal, the day of Mahalaya marks the beginning of the festivity. And each year, on this particular morning, when I stand under the sky, the soft warmth of the sun and the fresh smell in the air reminds me that it is the beginning of the festivity. And now, kilometers away from Bengal, and for some other festival, the Christmas, I felt the same thing in the air.
It is interesting as Kolkata and Ljubljana are two completely different cities, with no similarity in climatic conditions. Moreover Durga Puja is a festival of autumn, and Christmas is in winter. Normally I wouldn’t expect a winter morning in Ljubljana to be same as one autumn morning in Kolkata. But it was exactly the same, announcing the festivity.
I felt the festivity in the air. It was crisp chilly. The sun was soft; and though not warm in temperature, the light was warm. I could smell the air, and the smell of nature. I smelt the dewdrops and the wet earth, the grass. I heard the happy chirping of the birds. I saw the sunrays visible in the mist. I saw the floating clouds, and the blue window of the sky peeping behind the clouds. I stopped for a moment and closed my eyes, to feel the air, to feel the nature. I took a deep breath and felt the happiness. I let the happiness seep deep inside me.
And once again I realized, whatever festival it is, wherever on the earth it is, it brings the same air.. And I wonder.. “What is in the air”….
It was 24th December this year, the day before Christmas. After waking up, while getting ready for work, my mood was a mixture of happy and brooding. Happy as it will be Christmas Eve, and Christmas the next day, holidays, time for festivity, good food, and nice time with everyone. And brooding because I had to go to work, and the weather forecast was for rain, and the nice snow from previous week had already melted.
But when I came out of the house to go to work, my gray mood was completely gone. I smelled the crisp air, and felt the chill in it, and wondered myself, “what is in the air”!!
Before the Durga Puja in Bengal, the day of Mahalaya marks the beginning of the festivity. And each year, on this particular morning, when I stand under the sky, the soft warmth of the sun and the fresh smell in the air reminds me that it is the beginning of the festivity. And now, kilometers away from Bengal, and for some other festival, the Christmas, I felt the same thing in the air.
It is interesting as Kolkata and Ljubljana are two completely different cities, with no similarity in climatic conditions. Moreover Durga Puja is a festival of autumn, and Christmas is in winter. Normally I wouldn’t expect a winter morning in Ljubljana to be same as one autumn morning in Kolkata. But it was exactly the same, announcing the festivity.
I felt the festivity in the air. It was crisp chilly. The sun was soft; and though not warm in temperature, the light was warm. I could smell the air, and the smell of nature. I smelt the dewdrops and the wet earth, the grass. I heard the happy chirping of the birds. I saw the sunrays visible in the mist. I saw the floating clouds, and the blue window of the sky peeping behind the clouds. I stopped for a moment and closed my eyes, to feel the air, to feel the nature. I took a deep breath and felt the happiness. I let the happiness seep deep inside me.
And once again I realized, whatever festival it is, wherever on the earth it is, it brings the same air.. And I wonder.. “What is in the air”….
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