A Pocket Full of Hope..

A pocket full of hope,
When you just need a rope
To pull you through the darkness
When you just need to harness
A wish to survive
Which sometimes seems to be so naive..

A pocket full of hope,
When you just need a Pope
To give you good advice,
When a little bit of wise
Can lead you to a shore,
Leaving you wanting for more.

A pocket full of hope,
When you just need to cope
With all the things bad,
When they make you go mad
Until you get it right
And let the hope in your heart sit tight!!!

The Thriller’s Gone With You..MJ!!!

Michael Jackson…what does the name stand for?
To the world he is the greatest entertainer of all times..an American icon..a legend that will live in the hearts of his followers even though now that he is no more…
A lifetime dedicated to music..a lifetime full of fame and fortune ..a lifetime full of scandals..a lifetime full of accusations..but I think he is more of a legend that we should celebrate....that he is no more..
Yesterday I received a news update saying “MJ in hospital following cardiac arrest...” Never thought that would be followed by another news update saying “He is no more...”
Never was a great fan of him but certainly do respect him and love him for the great work he has done and really wish that the generations to come will know him as the “King Of Pop” which he truly is and will be even though now that he is no more…
May god bless your soul and may you rest in peace …MJ!!

A Walk by the Harbor…

As I walk by the harbor everyday,
I see people walking by happy, sad and gay.
As I watch the children running around,
I see their freedom knows no bounds..
As the ships sail into the harbor,
I watch in awe as they drop their massive anchor..
As the cruise ship leaves the harbor,
I find myself waving to every departing stranger..
As I see people enjoying an evening supper,
I watch the beggars who are busy quicker picker upper..
As I see the boats sailing by,
I realize it’s time for the sun to say goodbye..
As the sun sets in the horizon,
I leave the harbor to come back later for a pretty good reason...

Happy Father's Day!!!

It’s a day when everyone remembers their father and so do I. On Father’s day all around the world people celebrate the most important person in their lives but I celebrate my father every day. Honestly speaking I don’t really need a single day in a year to celebrate being his daughter. I thank God for giving him to me as a father everyday and no single day tagged by any person can really increase or decrease
how much I love him and how much I miss being away from him.
A Father’s day sale…what does it mean?
It seems really funny that people who created this day also gave the retail industry a boost as hundreds of people totally forget the significance of the day or the person and end up spending the whole day shopping and hopping from one mall to another. In that sale mania the love and the respect for the man who gave us life is somehow lost. I too love shopping and am fond of “sale” but not a Father’s day or Mother’s day sale. In any case can your love for them be on discount by any chance? No, I don’t think so.
It is not like I am against any such day but I really think that does anyone really need a day to remember the person who gave you life and made you what you are today…I don’t think so. It is just that in this modern day we just get rid of our responsibilities by buying a card and a gift for that loved one while a little time and love can really do wonders….
A Father’s Day or Mother’s Day really gives us an extra opportunity, another day in addition to the 365 to thank them for having us and giving us the most wonderful gift of all…the gift of life and the gift of their unconditional love and support.
And this goes for my Dad…I really cannot express how much I love you and miss you. I remember you everyday as much as I do today. It’s been a long time since I last saw you and I promise we will see each other soon and till then take care and always remember I am still your little girl and I know that’s how you remember me..
Love
Me....

A Sunset to Remember…

Walking down the beach……
The sun was on its journey to lighten up the other part of the world…
The sun was not happy that day I guess….leaving a mark in the sky..
The fiery red sky was telling the tale about the hard day gone by…
The lashing waves reflecting the somber mood after bidding goodbye to another beautiful day…
The cool wet sand beneath my feet reminding me of the chill setting in as the warm sunshine was at bay…
The mild breeze flowing by…
And the sun setting in the distance with a promise of another beautiful day…….

A Letter from Alcatraz…..

Imagine yourself cold and shivering on a damp and thickly fogged-in morning. Heavy steel shackles squeeze your wrists and ankles, and the constricting metal seems to amplify the cold. Your movements are constrained, which makes it difficult to maintain your balance as you embark on the island ferry. You catch a brief glimpse of what will soon be your new home across the foggy bay…

No I am not a former inmate of Alcatraz Island …the famous prison off the San Francisco Bay often known as “The Rock” but only a visitor who visited the island almost forty years after the dreaded prison was officially closed down and converted into a museum.

Each year millions of people visit this island to take in its unique history. The cell house, now empty of the dangerous criminals who were once housed there, still carries remnants of the dark events to which these walls bore witness.

“While I am still breathing”….. was the opening line of the guided audio tour that we took… As soon you enter the main prison building a feeling of somberness prevails. Though no prisoners live there now but still it seemed that we were retracing their footsteps. But what the prisoners went through in that place is only for us to imagine.

Every where around the island bits and pieces of the gruesome history of the island lay scattered and the stories make rounds about the famous inmates of the island who were one of the most incorrigible criminals of America…

In the dining hall stands the board on which the menu for the last day of the prison remains unscathed..i don’t remember what the menu was but it was not something what we would fancy. In the kitchen the knives were mounted on cases so that if one is stolen the cook can raise an alarm…in spite of all this quite a few of them were indeed stolen and later used in attempts to escape from the island but most of them in vain…..

The recreation center of the prisoners is something worth mentioning. It is rather a bare ground with a gallery on one side and a wall on the other side with a gusty wind blowing all year round. It is so windy over there that I could hardly stand at one place but the prisoners used to sit there for hours together because it was their heaven, it was the only place where they could have a piece of the life they missed..the sun ..the rain.. the winds..the clouds..and most importantly a birds eye view of the San Francisco city through a tiny hole on the door…….

As the tour went on it took us to what they call “The Hole”….it is nothing but a pitch dark cell which was used to keep the prisoners in isolation..not a ray of light, not a sound ..nothing…it seemed almost it lacked anything and every thing fit for human habitation….the only thing human ..”While I am still breathing..."

I always wanted to visit Alcatraz Island but I never knew the experience will be so heart wrenching. Dreaded, grim and mysterious are the words which can even come close to describe the island. A sneak peek into the island’s past and I knew why at the entrance it was written “Break rules and you go to prison, break prison rules and you go to Alcatraz.”

My journey to Alcatraz ended as I boarded the ferry to come back to San Francisco rather to come back to civilization far from the icy coldness of the place.. far from the rigid silence of the prison walls which could say so much”if only walls could talk..."

Calcutta Calling.....

Oh Calcutta!
My heart still skips a beat when i hear that...the city of joy..the former capital of India..the cultural hub of the country..home of Rabindranath Tagore..Bankimchandra and many more prolific writers..yes it is my own Calcutta, my home and not Kolkata as it is now known as...

One of the first things that comes to my mind when i think of Calcutta is the Howrah Bridge..the pride of Calcutta...the gateway to Calcutta.As a child going out of station seemed appealing because i got an opportunity to drive through the massive bridge..i looked in awe every time as my father showed me the Ganges and tried to teach me which direction of the river leads to Allahabad..my aunt's place..

People often say Calcutta appeals to those people who have lived there but the truth is that the city has touched every one who has ever been there in it's special ways.One thing that cannot be undermined is the spirit and hospitality of it's inhabitants.
From the early morning activities at the Babu Ghat..to the busy streets of Park Street.to the narrow by lanes of North Calcutta...to the crowded Kalighat temple ..to the street hawkers of Gariahat.. to the maddening crowds at Eden gardens...the spirit of Calcutta is alive and well in it's people.

Calcutta is a very cosmopolitan and modern city...orthodox in it's own way and modern on the other trying hard to embrace the new age.

The best thing about Calcutta is it's cuisine..a mixture of many cultures..
In Calcutta you can find the most amazing "Biriyani" and at the same time the most authentic Indianised Chinese food.As a child i remember going to Park Street for dinner...and how can i even forget China Town..the hakka noodles and gravy chilli chicken have rocked the hearts of Calcuttans for years now and obviously i am no exception.

The city celebrates Durga Puja and Christmas with equal enthusiasm..such is the love of of other cultures. The decked up Park Street on Christmas Eve and New Year is a sight worth seeing. I have been to many places but have never seen a Hindu dominated city celebrating Christmas with such enthusiasm. The city takes another beautiful look during the Durga Puja festival. All year round every Bengali waits eagerly for the pujas to come so that they can surrender themselves to a spiritual and cultural extravaganza. The clear blue skies with small white clouds, pleasant winds and fields adorned with "Kash Phool" signal the advent of "Sarat Kaal" and with it comes Durga Puja. The environment casts a magic spell and every one gets carried away by the grandeur of the festival....

Calcutta is a modern city built on the ruins of the past...though it's changing day by day yet it has managed to cling to it's roots.Calcutta today is as parochial as it is modern.It lives in the past as much as it lets it's past decay. India's first global city,it is littered with the remains of many worlds: the rickshaws brought in by the Chinese,the Mughlai food brought in by the Mughals, the hip hop and jazz culture brought in by the Americans and the everlasting impressions left behind by the British.

Calcutta to me is my home..it reminds me of my childhood days..it reminds me of the days i walked around the city holding my mother's hand....Calcutta to me is more than Victoria Memorial or Kalighat or Mohanbagan or Flury's or even Saurav Ganguly. Though all these things together make what Calcutta is today...it will always be special to me in more than one way..to me it is what i call......
Home..Sweet Home!!!

Being Married....

Yes!I DO....being a Hindu girl i did not have to say those words out loud but certainly i did in my mind when i got married......
But that "I DO" touched so many lives.....first of all me and my husband..it changed our lives forever.We have been friends since we were fifteen years old and getting married was inevitable.As my fairytale wedding took place not only us but all of our loved ones were happy for us...
What i thought would be the most happiest day of my life was also the most saddest day.Being a girl is a curse..while i was getting married i had my husband on one side and my father on the other..the two most important men in my life..together they are the pillars on which i stand..while my father is my foundation my husband is my reality.So really there is no question of making a choice and i can bet a daughter can never make that choice.
Everyone told me that i never looked happy at my marriage...happy i was but the thought that i will have to go away and leave my parents behind was heart wrenching.
All of a sudden i was the daughter in law of another family and officially i was the married daughter of my family..the identity with which i was born was taken away from me forever.
I sometimes think of those people who start a new life with a partner who they hardly know. I have been fortunate in this case at least and i still say that i would have never left my home and parents if it would have been someone else.
The love and support i found in him is really a gift...a gift worth cherishing..worth celebrating.The most important of all is that he understands the love i have for my parents...According to him my "Bidaai" was the most difficult situation he has ever faced in his life....he really wanted to leave me there and run..:D
Two years have passed since i got married but still cant stop thinking about that day that changed my life forever....for good or bad that is for my fate to decide..........
Every day of my life as a daughter has been a gift and every day as a wife seems to be a blessing my father gave me....

My School Days...

From a very young age i was very proud that i was a student of South Point High School..one of the most famous schools in Calcutta.i dont remember my first days at south point but certainly few of them are still very much alive in my memory...my father used to take me to school and buy me some flowers for my teachers..which later on became a habit..so this way i started my school life..or rather i started my life in the school which gave me good education, my best friends.. favourite teachers and most importantly it gave me my love..:D
I always had very few friends but the ones i had were the closest to me ever.Manjari and Parama...what can i say about them...they have a special place in my heart..Manjari was the notorious one like me and Parama was the cool one.Everybody called us "Three Musketeers".We did everything that we were not supposed to do..we ran around the school..played pranks on others.called names to other girls who were always busy concentrating on how they looked..and we were concentrating on how the boys looked..:D
As we grew up we changed as persons but at heart we were and still are the same..time flied by and someone special came into my life....Deepayan.He was more of a friend than anything else.In this case also my great friends gave me great support.
I loved my school so much that i ditched a very good college to continue my studies in my school after i passed 10th standard..Years flew by and gradually i reached the last day of school..It was one of the saddest day of my life..I hardly had a life without South Point..but i had to move on....and i did.
More than 8 years have passed since i last went to school but i can still hear the tiffin bells which we eagerly waited for or bells to commence the end of a boring period..the chitter chatter in class...still can remember the stupid things we used to do in school..the laughs,the cries,the joy,the pain and yet it seems so long ago.............