Archive for the ‘Inspiring stories’ Category

“Break the pattern. Teach your son he is a human being first” – Saheli Mitra

Posted: January 13, 2023 in Art, Indian Women, Inspiring stories, Men, parenting, Women
Tags: , ,
2

Apart from the fact that Saheli Mitra is a journalist, writer, entrepreneur, nature lover and a beautiful soul, what I have always liked about her is that she is someone with a mind of her own. She is someone, who doesn’t think twice before challenging social perceptions and norms.

Over the years I have keenly followed Saheli’s writings in newspapers, websites and social media and I have always appreciated her for her in-your-face, bold views and an intrinsic urge to spearhead social change. So when Saheli floated the idea of a book like Mater it came as no surprise to me because this is something that only she can think of.

As Mater, published by Virasat Publications, heads for its grand launch on Sunday, January 15, 2023 at ICCR, I decided to ask Saheli a few questions around the book and she answers me in her inimitable style.

Why did you decide to bring out a book like Mater?

I was toying with the idea for long, since days when I would be often called on the podium at various events to talk on women empowerment. I somewhere felt the general rhetoric about Beti Bachao concept going round in India is somewhere robbing the sons off their rightful place too.

Also I felt if we cannot educate our sons and by education I mean proper upbringing by their mothers, then no daughter, woman, wife, mother can be saved. Women empowerment cannot be forced through, it has to be felt, respected equally by the men as well. It cannot aim at creating a divide between man and woman where a man will even feel frightened to touch a woman affectionately, in the fear that she might complain or raise a hue and cry.

Similarly a man should have enough respect since childhood and learn that both man and woman ultimately are human beings. There is absolutely no divide between them other than their sexuality.

Any particular reason for making the book in a letter format?

We have forgotten how to write letters; be it love letters, or any other. In this tech age we convey our emotions just through emails, WA chats and virtual connect. Hence letters are very important to me. I still love writing a letter or receiving a card. Letters are tools to connect.

A letter written by a mother can even be read years later by the son when the mother is no more. That’s the power a hand-written letter has. Hence I thought of bringing out this letter anthology.

A letter written by a mother can even be read years later by the son when the mother is no more. That’s the power a hand-written letter has.

– Saheli Mitra
The cover of Mater has been designed by Rhiti Chatterjee Bose and the book is conceived and edited by Saheli Mitra

What made you choose these writers to be a part of this anthology?

I floated the idea of this anthology first on my social media handles, as the founder and content head of my Content & Creative company Tales Talks & Walks (TTW). Many responded. Many, who I didn’t know personally, and I also sent the anthology idea to those who I know as well.

We got many letters, but we chose a few, maintaining the variety of letters and not making them similar. For example there is a mother who is fighting Cancer, one who writes to her adopted son, one who writes to her dear son who is no more, one who writes to Godsons and so on.

You end your preface by saying: Let our sons break the shackles of that patriarchy and not just daughters. Please elaborate.

I have already said why I chose sons. To elaborate I would like to take names of men like Ishwar Chandra Vidyasagar, Raja Rammohan Roy and many many more who broke those shackles centuries back for the women to survive better. If these men were not there, who would have saved the women of India from Sati, child marriage and so on? Women did not save women, men did. Hence I thought of celebrating men and teaching sons how to be such compassionate, caring, loving souls; a teaching that only a mother can impart.

Ishwar Chandra Vidyasagar, Raja Rammohan Roy and many many more broke those shackles centuries back for the women to survive better. If these men were not there, who would have saved the women of India from Sati, child marriage and so on?

Do you think these letters will make a difference in the discourse around patriarchy in India?

We have already sold 100 books in the first one week, even before the launch. I am sure and confident such out-of-the-box ideas can create wonders in their own ways rather than socialites discussing women empowerment from jazzy podiums. And as we all know, words will always survive, even years later, so these letters written from the heart by various mothers will definitely create an impact.

Do you feel modern women are successful in bringing up gender sensitive boys/men?

Not really. Rather I believe women across ages and generations and centuries have raised many of their sons much better than the confused modern woman can. Else stalwarts of yesteryears would not have been born.

In your opinion, what steps can a mother take to ensure her child is strong, sensitive and respectful to the opposite gender?

Breaking the pattern. Teaching a son, he is a human being first and not a ‘son.’

Sometimes working women are turning out to be supermoms while juggling home, work and homework. Do you feel this might lead to unrealistic expectations on the part of a boy who is brought up by a supermom?

Absolutely. Not just the son, the whole family takes advantage of that ‘super woman’ tag. I believe, as I myself had a 21-year full-time journalist job and now a 24-hour daily job of an entrepreneur, running a company like TTW, that a working woman should never be burdened with any expectation. We never burden a father with such expectations, then why a mother?

How did artist Rhiti Chatterjee Bose get involved with this book?

I have admired Rhiti’s work for a long time. Also I wanted a woman to do the cover design. Despite knowing many well-known artistes of Kolkata, I thought of approaching her for the cover and she instantly agreed, sending one of the best paintings possible. I was so so touched.

Do you plan to bring out any other anthology in future?

Everything happens to me suddenly. Nothing is planned. My life is an example of that. If I ever feel the tug to do something, I just do it. Frankly I have no idea, or no commercial purpose to bring out anthologies by taking payment, fees etc. As you know we did not take anything for this book. And thanks to the wonderful Virasat Publications who did the book on a traditional publishing format, quite rare these days. Partha da, Amit Shankar and Rituparna of Virasat are doing a great job in this direction.

10 Reasons Why Ruskin Bond Is A Star

Posted: May 19, 2022 in Art, Children, Environment, Inspiring stories, Short Story
Tags: , ,
6
Ruskin Bond. (Photo: From DNA)

I must admit I entered the world of Ruskin Bond rather late. I was well into my 30s when I first picked up a book by him and it was The Blue Umbrella. Since then I have gifted this book to at least a dozen people. After my first introduction to his writing I have devoured Bond’s works but there is no harm in admitting that only a few days back I finally got around to reading Bond’s debut novel The Room on the Roof.

The novel was written when he was 17 and was finally published when he was 21, because it took him that long to find a publisher. The semi-autobiographical novel is refreshingly simple, there are times you feel that it comes from the pen of a young man but the maturity with which he handles the storyline tells you that this young man was heading for big things right then.

Since his debut, Bond has written innumerable novels, ghost stories, short stories and children’s books and as he turns 88 today, on May 19, 2022, the best thing is he is still writing with gusto.

Here are 10 reasons why Ruskin Bond is one of the most read and loved authors of our times.

  1. His writing is simple but the moment you start reading you are sucked into the story and there is no escape till you read the last line.
  2. Bond writes about nature. He describes trees, takes you to the hills, takes you on a walk down winding roads, through quaint towns, through flower beds and water tanks, in a way that no programme on Discovery can do.
  3. What he writes comes directly from his heart and pierces yours as you move from one page to another, basking in a warm feeling.
  4. His keen observation of the people of the hills and the innocence and beauty of a child’s heart comes out again and again in his writing. My favourite character is Binya in The Blue Umbrella.
  5. Bond is living every author’s dream. He writes full-time and lives near nature in a simple house named Ivy Cottage in Landour, Mussoorie.   
  6. It’s not uncommon to spot fans standing next to the lamp post opposite his house just to catch a glimpse of him. Some even turn up unannounced to see their favourite author. Very few authors in India have this kind of popularity.
  7. Ruskin Bond is a delight at Lit fests and events. His star pull is such that people in the age range of 9-90 turn up to hear their favourite author speak or take his autograph. He continues to fascinate readers across generations.  
  8. Although he still answers a landline at home, he is a regular on Insta, has 129k followers and keeps them engaged in his inimitable style.
  9. He’s had a flourishing writing career for 67 years and is still going strong. (Whew!)
  10. His consistency is something that makes him who he is. He used the lockdowns to pen 10000 words.

And no he didn’t let the squirrels or the parrots, visiting his window, meddle with his concentration. He fed his furry friend nuts and went back to writing.  

Bond is living every author’s dream. He writes full-time and lives near nature in a simple house named Ivy Cottage in Landour, Mussoorie.

Short Story: A Shield For The Security Guard

Posted: May 18, 2020 in Inspiring stories, Men, Short Story, WPrightnow
Tags: ,
6

Photo taken from the Internet. Source

Biman saw a big plastic packet sitting on the Security Guard’s table adjacent to the gate of the building. It looked like a few boxes of cakes. He could see the name of the bakery written on top of the packet. Not the usual ones that Swiggy brings into the building. This one must have come directly from the bakery in their van, thought Biman. He had been away from the gate on a washroom break.

Since no deliveries were allowed to go beyond the gate, things were left at the guard’s table usually, from where the residents picked it up. Not always though…

Many had become so lazy since lockdown happened two months back that they refused to walk those ten steps to the gate to pick up their stuff. They would inevitably make a call to the security guards and ask them to drop it off at their flats.

The company that Biman worked for, which had a contract with the building that he was guarding now, had strictly ordered them not to run errands unless it was emergency medicines for aging residents. So, when the calls came to deliver the pizzas, the biryani, the groceries left by Amazon, the fish left by the fish seller, to the respective apartments, Biman had to say a firm “no”. Then they would request, command and threaten him over the phone.

All for what, so that they didn’t have to step out of their front doors, thought a hassled Biman.

“They are shamelessly heckling the guards to make their easy life even easier. The morons never think I am doing my job and nothing else,” an irate Biman lamented.

Yes, the guards had a few jobs less now, of opening the gates when the cars came in, of jotting down the registration numbers of the Ubers, of getting the guests to sign the register, or keeping an eye on the maids.

But he had ensured that none of those para guys could walk in and ask for money from the residents as they had been doing in other buildings. And when some people came at night saying that they were from the Municipality checking every apartment to make sure no one had fever, Biman had repeatedly asked for their ID that they failed to show. He kept the gates firmly locked.

He had ensured every single person who walked inside the gates used the hand sanitiser, he had made sure the lift surfaces, the stair banisters were cleaned twice a day. He had taken on the mantle of the caretaker, who used to come in the local train. Biman switched on the pump on time, made the gardener cut the wild shrubs, maintained the lift, saw to it that waste was cleared from every home properly by the sweeper.

Despite that it was one undelivered pizza that became the bone of contention. The building president told him that he could have just delivered the box to the lady since she was single and old. Biman had retorted that her young niece had been living with her since lockdown, a fact the president didn’t seem to know.

The old lady had complained about Biman to the building committee. She had told them that she found him ogling at the women and watching porn on his mobile while on duty. The president assured him he didn’t believe her.

“I know you are a good guy. But it’s not in my hands. We might have to let your company know…”

“And then…?” Biman asked, the anger building up in his throat.

“We will see.” He said. His face gleaming with the power he felt on another person’s life decisions.

Biman’s cheeks were burning up. Now would he have to deal with a lifetime of shame for one woman’s laziness?

He thought of his everyday fight with his wife. She worried that he interacted with so many strangers and went back home to sleep with his 3-year-old daughter.

“Can’t you do something else?”

“What else?”  Biman would scream. “People don’t have jobs now. You should be thankful I am still drawing a salary.”

Biman sat at the guard’s chair, crestfallen.

*

“No one took that packet yet?” asked Monohar, Biman’s colleague.

Biman looked at the packet disdainfully.

“You should see them when the bakery van comes these days. They come down in hordes as if cakes are what they are living for. No social distancing, no masks, their tongues touching the ground in gluttony,” chuckled Manohar.

Piya was walking down the driveway towards the guards table. Biman looked away.

“God knows what this young woman thinks about me. A pervert or a good man?”

“Biman da, Monohar da, ei packet ta tomader (this packet is for you),” she said.

“What’s there?” asked Manohar eagerly.

“Some cakes and chicken patties for you,” said Piya.

Biman remained expressionless. Manohar had already opened a box. A grin lit up his face.

“Biman da tumi toh jhor tuleccho (you have raised a storm),” said Piya.

Biman looked at her stunned. She already knew about his shame.

“My mom said that all the women in this apartment have stood up for you in the WhatsApp group saying you are a gem of a person. All allegations against you are false,” smiled Piya.

“Nao ebare cake khao tomra (now you guys have some cake). Ma has ordered this for you.”

Biman looked down, at his own gleaming shoes. He couldn’t let Piya see his tears.

– By Amrita Mukherjee

Read More Short Stories On Lockdown

Short Story: The Maid’s Home

Short Story: A Teacher’s Lockdown Lessons

Short Story: Feluda And The Covid 19 Death Case

Short Story: In Love With Social Distancing

Short Story: Washing the milk

Ten years back work from home meant fall from grace for me

Posted: April 3, 2020 in Indian Women, Inspiring stories
Tags: ,
2

Picture from the internet

…And to think of it now majority of the work force throughout the world is working at home because of lockdowns and the coronavirus pandemic. When I started working from home this was unthinkable and, in fact, the whole concept was accompanied by wrong notions of loss of productivity and lack of commitment. What one would do in the office one would never do at home – this was something that was oft repeated by work bosses in the year 2010. But now…

My first work-from-home stint

I was in Dubai when my son Vivaan was born and I went back to work when he was only one and a half months old. I was given the option of working from office for 4 hours and the rest 5 hours I worked from home. I reached office at 8am instead of 9am, was there till noon, and was home before son’s bathing time.

This schedule worked for me like a breeze as I could be with my baby when he needed me and could work at the laptop as well filing copies, editing articles and doing interviews over phone or email for the magazine I worked in. But my bliss didn’t last long.

In a department that worked with a skeletal staff my boss decided to take leave for a month to attend the wedding anniversary of her in-laws in India- strangely people she was perpetually cribbing about in front of her colleagues. But it was their 50th wedding anniversary, she had to be there organizing the show for a month and then parading in Kanjeevarams as the perfect Dubai-return bahu. I obviously did not fit anywhere in the picture.

So my bliss was quickly slaughtered at the altar of bahu duties of the boss. I was asked to be at work 9-6, holding fort while she was gone. I had requested the management to give me remote access so that I could check the pages, do the edits and final proofing and continue working from home. That wasn’t an impossible task especially in a techno savvy place like Dubai. But they simply refused to give me access at home and said the final work couldn’t be done without coming to office and they didn’t feel “safe” giving remote access. (Not that I was working with any kind of confidential data.)

So in the end it was basically the belief that an employee, especially a new mom, wouldn’t put in her best in her work-from-home avatar.

Hence I was back to work, slogging out at my desk, being the perfect professional and churning out my supposed 100 per cent.

I quit my office job

Within 10 months I quit my job. Did I regret it? Yes, to some extent because I never went back to earning a pay pack like that every month no matter how many big projects I landed as a freelancer. Did I like working from home? I loved it because I could be with my son. I could work on my schedule in my own way and I could do other things like writing my books.

But working from home did come with a lot of negative connotations. Wearing fashionable clothing and driving to work every morning to a swanky office is one thing, and sitting in your pyjamas at the laptop placed on the dining table every morning, keying in some stories and interviews is completely another thing.

You could feel you are working but others might not. I had grabbed a work-from-home offer as the consulting editor of a health and travel magazine and was keeping rather busy all day, I was writing my debut book Exit Interview even. But tinkering at your laptop in your nightdress and occasional weekly meetings and interviews are not actually work. I realised soon. No one told me but it was written all over their faces. My demotion had happened in the eyes of my family, relatives and friends, something from which I could probably never rise.

Picture from the internet

The challenges of the work-from-home schedule

It’s actually more challenging to work from home than at the office. The world is realizing that right now I am sure. There are articles everywhere now telling you how to set up a work space at home, how to keep the self motivated and how to separate yourself from the household.

Let’s face it, it’s just not possible.

As someone who’s been there done that, I have realised you cannot stick to your work desk when the baby is crying, the cook is asking for instructions or elderly people at home can’t do without their daily dose of serials and the TV will blare. You like it or not, you will have to accept it.

It’s been 10 years now and I am still asked to move my laptop all around the house because someone has something more important to do in that space at that moment. Sometimes I refuse and let my anger speak, sometimes I move because I don’t want to lose my concentration in fruitless argument.

The seriousness that people had when I left home with my leather bag on my shoulders is clearly missing when they see me moping around on the laptop in my shabby home clothes. And you can’t really blame them for that, can you?

Related Reading: You might like this short story of mine on WFH The Bekaar Blogger

WFH has made me stronger

I must say I have developed concentration that wouldn’t falter if the walls in the house collapse on me and my time management and multi-tasking abilities have become so much better. If the son is playing with his friends in the same room and the TV is on and Sreemoyee is crying her head off on the screen, I don’t flinch at my edits. My mind is there fully and the world around is shut off.

It’s actually an art and people who have been pushed to their homes suddenly and gasping in their WFH routines will learn it over time.

And by the way, those who have been writing off WFH people like us for so many years will now realize how much harder it’s to function from home than to be at work. Like a friend of mine said, “I start at 7 am and can’t finish even at 11 pm.”

True, no matter how hard you try the WFH schedule could become a 24×7 thing draining you out completely. And you could be setting your own deadlines but the office could now give you work at unearthly hours and you wouldn’t be able to say no.

You could miss the coffee breaks and lunchtime banter with your colleagues but you could be there for your kid when he gets back from school. A friend of mine looks after her bedridden mom and works from home in the IT sector. It’s a Herculean task she has been performing for years now. Now that her entire work force has shifted home they would probably finally realize the mountains she has been moving to stay on deadline.

Now when people say they are finding work from home crazy, I say “meh” rolling my eyes just like my son would.

Related Reading:This post was written on my WFH experience My boss is always touching me

Witnessing WFH history

Picture from the internet

 

There was a time when WFH was looked at as the end of a career, was treated with disdain and with the repeated question, “What do you actually do?” Now WFH is a norm, everyone is doing it and I feel victorious and validated.

From the time when WFH was not looked at as an option at all, to a time when I have never met my employers except on Skype calls, things have changed drastically, thanks to technology. I have remote colleagues whom I have never met but we do talk about kids and deadlines on messenger. And now, of course, about the added load of housework because of the lockdown and virus scare.

But in our WFH world social distancing already exists. You don’t share details about yourself beyond the basics and when an employee leaves the job, that’s it. There’s no connection left after that. This is inevitable because the bonds you build sitting next to a colleague in office can’t really be built remotely.

“After this lockdown I will never complain about going to work I am sure,” said a friend. True. When you don’t have access to something anymore you learn to appreciate and value it. That’s why when the door flies open and people barge in when I am on a Skype call I now smile. I don’t lose it. WFH has taught me to appreciate the finer aspects of life.

There is no doubt in the maid-dependent Indian social setting (to think of it this is the first time since I stepped on this earth we are managing without maids) WFH in the lockdown scenario is truly tough. Work calls are greeted with, “I am mopping the floor can I call back?” or “I am finishing the dishes will be there in 2 mins.” It’s acceptable and not a wee bit unprofessional. We are all aware of the work-home balancing act we are doing.

In fact, this Lockdown WFH has come as a great wake-up call where bosses and managements all over the world are realizing that it’s possible to keep the ball rolling with a cut down of costs and carbon footprints.

And if we believe the futuristic reports then many companies who can function remotely could be still sticking to the WFH system even when there’s no lockdown.

I will end with a funny story. America has recorded higher sales of tops without bottoms, recently. As a friend shared on FB recently she had flung her top and jacket on her printed pyjamas she wears at home for a Zoom meeting. Then she got up to get her mobile.

Ahh! The hilarious WFH dichotomies.

PS: I wrote this blog between doing the dishes and frying cabbage pakodas that didn’t come out too well. But hope this post did.