Really?

This http://telegraphindia.com/1050928/asp/foreign/story_5293786.asp maybe true, but not so long ago, no one cared much about the Internet either, did they?

Being in Bengal

Spare me the acid, uber. I offer my apologies.
Believe me, I have missed blogging so much. It's as if I had lost my mobile phone. Somehow, my earlier job at an MNC seemed to give me more time than my present newspaper job. And I'd always thought it would be the other way round.
I completed three months in Calcutta a couple of days ago. The sights, sounds (too many, uf) and smells of the city are growing familiar. I no longer get up in the morning and expect to not sweat. I can now sit shoulder to shoulder, knee to knee, whatever to whatever, in the middle of two people in a little auto and hum along with the latest Bollywood hit playing, no, drilling into my brain, on FM radio.
But Calcutta, unlike most people outside think, has got more to it than sweat and the closeness of humanity. Yes, the heat can scare the shit out of you if you happen to drop in anytime between March to June. It made me really homesick the first few weeks. But, as humans do, I got used to it.
There are some things which you can do only in this city in India: like take a tram ride. I took my first tram from Bidhan Sarani to College Street, something that Linc used to do during his three years at college. I think trams are the best source of outdoor advertising, because they move so slowly, and are so huge that no one could possibly miss the ad. When I went back home after visiting Calcutta for the first time about three years ago, one of the images I carried back with me were the blue trams (with Bend it like Beckham promo) and the black trams (I thnk it was Men in Black).
Speaking of images, the chief minister wants to ban hand-pulled rickshaws. But what alternatives do the rickshaw pullers have? As someone said, people dont take to rickshaw-pulling out of pleasure. I had refused to get on one during my first visit here. Linc told me, "Alright, as you wish. But you wont be helping the guy (the rickshaw-puller) a bit." Lesson learnt.
Yeah, then there are the slick malls mushrooming like crazy. That's supposed to be a sign of Calcutta catching up with the other metros, I guess. Sigh. You just cant escape 'development' and 'modernisation,' you see.
But Sundays, like today, are an absolute delight. There is almost no traffic on the roads, at least till evening. The Bengali babu doesn't like to miss his siesta afer a bhaat-maangsho curry lunch. Its the best time to get out and explore the quiet by-lanes. A little rain, like the one today, makes it just right.
I know I have hardly scraped the surface of this city. There are still so many things to see, places to go to, people to meet, mishtis to eat, dreams to fulfill, and things to learn here. Here's to a long love affair!!

Cloned

Want to visit the other sihikahi?! http://lincolnroy.blogspot.com Linc has called his blog sihikahi, too, and even refuses to use a different template. Cant even sue him for IP violation!! But he says his site is not intended to compete with mine in any way. Hmmmm....

IE problems

If you are seeing some HTML code stuff on the post below... I cant do anything about it. Simply because I dont have the time. But hope its not lookin too bad.

One

Sihikahi turns one today! Happy Birthday to Sihikahi!! Long Live Sihikahi!! I just hope I can be more regular at least in the coming year.

When I began blogging, I knew hardly anyone on the blogosphere. And then people messaged me, mailed me solely on the basis of what I wrote on the blog. Today, thanks to Blogger, I have some solid friends: Shyam, Uber, Swaroop, Praveen. And got to know interesting people: Asya, Uma, Hemangini, Secrets. And then the friends whom I got to know in the physical world. Their blogs actually gave me an insight into them: Finny, Mish, Leviathan, Spliff, Robin .

But I know I could have done so much more with my blog, if I really had the time. So many times there are bloggable things in my head, but I hardly get to put it there.

Since day one of blogging, my interest and conviction in blogging has only grown. I have tried other forms of online interactivity – chatrooms ;), e-groups, Orkut, -- but none as appealing as blogging.

Revisiting some posts from the year gone by:

Why I blog. (This was my first post.)

Author couldnt figure out title for this post. (Still havent figured out)

Business of life (A love poem, rare piece from me)

My teachers (One post not enough)

Microsoft Powerpoint and the decline of civilization (actually the bane of civilization)

Love or boredom? (Answer maadi)

Non-geeks of the world live long (Since then, have become a lil geek myself)

Almonds of the poor (Sudu's best, according to me)

At home ... (Hubby's best)

How it feels to be hungry

Passion defined (Ah, Manoj!!!)

On the edge (many arguments around this one)

Maybe. Just maybe

Do you have a secret? (A beautiful discovery)

Blank noise

Jasmeen Patheja has started a protest in Bangalore against eve-teasing. All the best, Jasmeen. Long overdue project. Visit her site here: http://blanknoiseproject.blogspot.com (For some reason, the hyperlink button is not working. So, sorry, you'll have to copy and paste the links till then.)


Today's Deccan Herald has a story on her here: http://www.deccanherald.com/deccanherald/jul142005/metrothurs1648422005713.asp

I thought for a long time about my own experiences. How my mom and now my mom-in-law ask me to wear a dupatta on some 'bad' steets, and I tell them that the dress does not matter. It has to be a woman, that's all. I remembered my experiences in crowded buses, the dodging on busy roads, especially the footpath on Brigade Road.

I usually keep staring at the lech until he looks away. In buses, I push them back with all my might, and give them a warning look. Till now, they have taken the hint, and stepped back. But they are there all the time, everywhere. No wonder, we get used to it. Thanks, Jasmeen, for reminding me that eve teasing is not OK.

Hemangini's train journey

Guess I read this pretty late. So, if you havent already read Hemangini's story, read it here: http://hemanginigupta.blogspot.com/2005/06/train-to-chennai.html

Request

Hey

If you want to comment on a fairly old post of mine, please mention the post headline. Else, I'll have to go through all the posts to reply to you.

Do you have a secret?

Do you want to share it? Maybe with someone you don’t know, and who can never know you. Bold enough even for that? Will that help you? Will it make you cry? Will it make you feel better? Maybe this is what you are looking for: Secrets.

Frank Warren runs the site. He invites people to send him their secrets on a post card. I am touched by the site. Excruciatingly beautiful. I went through the site with voyeur-like hunger, wanting to know people’s erotic, guilty, or plain dirty secrets. It made me think if I had a secret of my own to share. I don’t think there is, or I have forgotten (!). Remembered the times when I knelt down to pray, to talk to someone who was not from this world, and how the tears came one by one at first, and then in gushes. Sometimes there were reasons for feeling low. Sometimes, it was just existence.

But when I talked about it, somehow I overcame it. Talking about what pained me seemed to make me bigger than the problem and helped me look beyond it. Not everyone wants to talk, though, nor can every secret/pain be shared. And anyways, no one seems to be interested. Secrets can be a blessing then. This site is for those who cant fathom this world, who feel constrained to kill themselves for want of a loving person who will listen, too.

Thanks Spliff, for linking to this rare site.

Me tagged

Swaroop has tagged me. So here goes:

Total number of books I own: Have lost count. But surely more than 100 spread over three cities.

The last book bought: 'The Kandy-Colored Tangerine-Flake Streamline Baby' by Tom Wolfe.

The last book I read: Soul Mountain by Gao Xingjian

Books I am currently reading: Pather Dabi by Saratchandra Chattopadhyay; Oxford Guide to Plain English by Martin Cutts.

Books that mean a lot to me: Disgrace by J M Coetzee, Mookajjiya Kanasugalu by Shivram Karanth, No Logo by Naomi Klein, Jungle by Upton Sinclair.

And I am tagging Uber, Finny, Mishi, Shyam, and Sudu. Dya hear me?