Archive for the ‘parenting’ Category

Malini (Aparajita Addhy) and Sudipa (Rituparna Sengupta) in Praktan

Malini (Aparajita Addhy) and Sudipa (Rituparna Sengupta) in Praktan

As I emerged from the movie hall with my mother after watching Praktan, I heard her muttering, “What was Rituparna Sengupta (Sudipa in the film) thinking?

I was annoyed, more so because it came from my mom, who has always believed women should fly.

“Who do you think I am like?” I asked. “The independent, non-conformist career-minded Sudipa or the home-maker Malini (played by Aparajita Addhy)?”

“Of course, you are like Sudipa,” my mom said without batting an eyelid.

“Then why did you make the comment?” I persisted.

“It’s just that she is such a nag. And Ujaan (Prosenjit in the film) is such a chauvinist. The relationship was a recipe for disaster.”

My mother had just summed up the crux of the film in the most simple way possible. Praktan is a film based on the relationship between two flawed, egotistical people, both of whom believe they are always right.

It’s just by chance that Rituparna is shown to be a woman with a mind of her own who smokes, wears modern attire, is an architect and has financial independence.

Wouldn’t we have hated Ujaan as much had the roles been reversed?

Had his first wife been Malini, a homemaker and he had checked her messages, told her to take his permission before travelling to her parents’ home, had been frugal with his time with her and had told her to leave on a holiday without him and had not turned up as promised, would we have hated him any less?

Sudipa could have been the second wife, the independent, career woman who could have been equally diplomatic, keeping the mom-in-law happy by letting her take the decisions, making the customary phone calls to keep the family in the loop about her whereabouts and at the same time not demanding any time from her husband, but remaining immersed in her own career, then would that have been more acceptable?

Praktan is a film that mirrors reality to a great extent and sometimes reality is regressive. Ujaan tells Sudipa that if his mother never had a problem with the rules in the house, why was she making a hue and cry about it?

In this one liner the filmmakers very clearly show how most Indian men react to independence and women.

Most Indian men grow up seeing their mothers do something and believing that is right. Indian men, who have moms with a career, are often used to seeing them coming home cooking and cleaning and doing the double shift.  So for them, independence comes with the superhuman qualities of doing the balancing act and at the same time conforming to the social norms set aside for women.

There is a scene where after her miscarriage, Sudipa stays up and cries while Ujaan is blissfully asleep. That scene reminded me so much of my friend who had a very difficult pregnancy followed by an operation after the delivery. While she grappled with the pain from her stitches and a constantly crying newborn at night, her husband would simply keep sleeping, not stirring for once. She told me she felt so angry then, that she sometimes thought of walking out of the marriage.

Relationships transform as couples move from courtship to marriage, yet another reality that was shown in Praktan. Sudipa actually had no clue that the suave, smiling, knowledgeable heritage tour guide Ujaan could actually become such a perpetually angry and dominating man as soon his ego was bruised, his belief in his capabilities challenged.

The skirmishes over her paying for their holiday to Kashmir to the misunderstanding over the tags left in the clothes that she gifts him (he thinks it’s to show him the price, while she thinks it would help if there is any need to exchange) or her dream of having a home of her own, very realistically portray the unseen battles that often crop up in a marriage.

In order for a marriage to work there has to be an effort from both sides. While spending time together is a prerogative for a good marriage, but if you don’t understand each other nothing actually comes out of trips to Kashmir or coffee shops.

For instance Sudipa has little understanding of Ujaan’s pride in his work. The scene where she walks in with the news of her own promotion and fails to see the clippings from the newspapers that have featured him, very subtly shows Sudipa’s obsession with herself.

Throughout the film Sudipa keeps blaming Ujaan for prioritizing his career but she also, to some extent, fails to understand his attachment to his family, profession, friends (he does not turn up at a holiday with Sudipa because his friend lost his mother.)

For me Praktan is less about how a career woman is being portrayed. It’s more about two people not making any effort to understand each other, something Malini probably tried to do and Ujaan probably made the extra effort the second time. The reason, most often, second marriages are successful.

Sudipa (Rituparna Sengupta) and Ujaan (Prosenjit) in a scene from Praktan.

Sudipa (Rituparna Sengupta) and Ujaan (Prosenjit) in a scene from Praktan.

No matter how hard Malini tries to prove to Sudipa that she has found bliss with Ujaan and doesn’t mind if he is there for her only a single day in the year, that their marriage is not flawless is clear from a single dialogue from their daughter Uditaa who says: “When mom gets angry at dad saying I can’t take this anymore, he gives her a chocolate and a kiss to make up with her.”

So the fights that were an integral part of his first marriage continue in his second, but this time he makes an effort to bring peace, something he had not done before.

It will also be wrong to look at Malini’s character as a regressive one because she gave up her career post-childbirth, adjusted in an extended family and most importantly, “supposedly” adjusted with Ujaan. If we are doing that we are once again categorizing women with our perceptions.

She is a woman who has pushed Ujaan to start his own business and appreciates him for not asking any details about her past relationship as she has not dug into his.

In fact, as shown in the film, the daughter has played a vital role in transforming Ujaan into a more mellowed and loving man. And why am I not surprised? I have seen the most self-obsessed men becoming doting fathers. And I have also seen men refusing to go home after work because they hated their house stinking of soiled nappies and hated the baby getting all the attention from the wife. I have also seen men choosing not to have children and being perfectly happy with the choice.

It depends on a filmmaker what reality he wants to show. In Praktan they chose to show the first one.

One might wonder why Sudipa was so bothered about Ujaan when she had herself found a worthy life partner and especially after all the pain Ujaan had inflicted her with.

People in failed relationships usually look for closure, a re-inforcement that jumping off the sinking ship was the only way out. Sudipa probably looked for closure too. She started off hating Malini, but as the journey progressed, she couldn’t help but like her over-boisterous persona. She looked at life more simply, a quality that Sudipa appreciated.

In my interpretation, meeting Ujaan was not closure for Sudipa, meeting Malini was.

Praktan is not a film with the most flawless script, but it is a film that holds its own with the most flawed characters.

I have been down with flu for the last five days. But mothers of five-year-olds, with their dads out of town, usually don’t have the luxury to hit the bed because of ill health.

In my desperate bid to keep my sanity alive I snatched a book from the shelf and was trying to read a few pages, while son played with his playmate in the same room, shrieking at the top of his voice.

At that moment I felt the only person who could probably understand my predicament was the writer of the book I was holding in my hand – Twinkle Khanna.

Twinkle Khanna Karan Johar

Twinkle with her best friend Karan Johar

I felt a strange camaraderie with the lady through her writing, a connection we had completely failed to establish when we had met in person more than 15 years back when she was still an actress and I was a full-time journalist.

When I went to interview her I found her very pretty, very polite and very boring with her answers (maybe that was because showbiz bored her to bits as she admits now).

For the entire article go to Bollywoodjournalist.com

Actress Ananya Chatterjee

Actress Ananya Chatterjee

I had been away from Kolkata for more than seven years but what makes me feel really wonderful to be back in the city is the warmth of the people I have always known professionally and personally.

Recently when I was invited to the newly-opened seafood and tribal cuisine restaurant, Fishermen’s Deck, on Swinhoe Street, apart from sampling their mouth-watering fare, I was really looking forward to meeting Ananya Chatterjee, who was the celeb guest at the do.

While working as a full-time journalist in Kolkata I had known Ananya well. She was always a straight-talking person, lived life on her own terms, believed in style statements and needless to say, was supremely talented.

The last time we exchanged an SMS was in 2009 when she bagged the National Award for Best Actress for her role in Abohoman directed by late Rituparno Ghosh. I was elated that she had won. She acknowledged my wishes with warmth.

The next time we met was a few weeks back at the restaurant and I was elated once again to see that Ananya hadn’t changed a wee bit. She hugged me warmly and said, “I was looking forward to the adda with you.”

We quickly got down to that between devouring pepper calamari and green rice. Ananya wanted the mutton, made in bamboo, to be specially cooked for her and with her trademark simplicity she told me: “I can only have the crab if you can extract the meat for me from the shell.”

I did that. Then we moved on to the unusual-yet-tasty egg halwa and embarked on a trip down memory lane talking about all our earlier addas on shooting floors, at parties and about a couple of occasions when she saved my day by accommodating a last-minute shoot in her hectic schedule.

The interiors of Fishermen's Deck

The interiors of Fishermen’s Deck where Ananya and I had our chat and yum seafood

While talking about work, Ananya said: “You know I can never accept a script where I don’t have much acting to do. But I am looking at some innovative work which includes a short film.”

Now close on the heels of the superhit short film Ahalya, that stars yet another wonderful actor and down-to-earth human being Tota Roy Chaudhury, Ananya is acting in Aniruddha Roy Chowdhury’s 15-minute Debi.

The film has got an equally talented cast of Arjun Chakraborty, Koushik Banerjee, Reshmi Sen and singer Monali Thakur.

Filmmaker Aniruddha Roy Chowdhury

Filmmaker Aniruddha Roy Chowdhury

Debi is about the nostalgia of Durga Puja in Kolkata and about homecoming. It is nothing like Ahalya but it has something that is bound to pull at your heart strings and remind you about the Bengali’s love for grandparents, for food and the magic of wearing red during Durga Puja.

It’s nine days to Durga Puja now and National Award-winning director Aniruddha Roy Chowdhury couldn’t have picked a better time to release Debi online. This is the time Bengalis all over the world miss the azure of the Bengal sky, what we call the “sarater akash”.

Ananya has beautifully portayed the character of a strong, independent single mom Anu, who comes to her ancestral home during Durga Puja with daughter Lali in tow.

Some relationships don’t change even if you haven’t met for ages – like mine with Ananya’s or Anu’s with her home.

Watch to see what I mean:

Link to Short film Debi

 

 

 

Exit Interview is a fiction published by Rupa Publications

Exit Interview is a fiction published by Rupa Publications

“How many times will you read it? Haven’t you written this book? Then why are you always reading it? Will you not read my books?” my five-year-old son Vivaan was really infuriated.

It was end of May and a couple of days after Rupa Publications had delivered author copies of Exit Interview, my first attempt at writing a fiction, at my doorstep, and I had not yet got over the thrill of holding my book, smelling it and going through it, although by then I knew every page by heart.

But Vivaan wasn’t liking the fact that I was suddenly giving more importance to Exit Interview than Hansel &Gretel and I was even telling him to sleep off on his own while I had work to do.

“Work? What work? You are reading your book. That can’t be work.” He retorted.

I lovingly showed him the acknowledgments page where his name is there. He looked at it and then seemed satisfied that even in the book he continues to be the centre of his mom’s universe.

Vivaan probably will never know that my protagonist Rasha Roy has been actually abandoned so many times for him – for the call of his nappy changing-feeding-cuddling duties.

I started writing the book when my son was 10 months old. I had just quit my job in Dubai and I was at home, writing. Obviously it was expected or I was internally conditioned that way, I suppose, to get up from my laptop every time my son wailed.

Although Rajasri, the wonderful lady who looked after my son was there by his side all the time, I was there too telling myself, “Isn’t this why I left my job?”

Hence the breaks from writing extended to walks in the stroller and playing sessions in the balcony.  Sometimes when I went back to Rasha Roy, my protagonist, I had forgotten what she was doing or what I wanted her to do. My train of thought had been shattered.

There were days Vivaan kept me so busy that I couldn’t write a single line and there were days I would be up all night writing. Some nights Vivaan was so restless and wanted me by his side (we always co-slept) that I also tossed and turned with the next twist in the tale in my head, unable to put it down on the keyboard.

Sometimes when I sat down to write instead of the words the only thing that came was my tears. I was still mourning the untimely demise of my brother Anirban. It had only been 10 months that cancer had taken him away.

But was it Rasha who gave me the strength to carry on, to write the story or was it Vivaan, this little boy, who only knew the sound of my heartbeat, who changed me as a person altogether and gave me the strength to follow my dream?

I wouldn’t know. But four years down the line I have realized Vivaan doesn’t like Rasha. While looking at a newspaper review or a picture of a friend on Facebook holding my book he does get excited saying, “Isn’t that your book?” but the next statement inevitably is, “If you are writing again it better be a book you can read out to me at night.”

Picture taken from the internet

Picture taken from the internet

That day a friend casually said, “Rasha Roy’s story would make a great sequel. Are you thinking of writing one?”

Before I could answer, Vivaan said, “No Rasha, only Puti.”

“Puti? Who’s Puti?” my friend asked.

Vivaan clarified, “She’s a girl from the village who can beat the boys at racing, fight off bank robbers and hijackers, she saved a boy from drowning, she is a supergirl. Mom has made Puti for me.”

The last sentence was uttered with a pride that melted my heart – a pride that comes from his innocence, a pride that he feels about my book but can’t express, a delight that he feels to have the creator of Rasha or Puti as his mom.

Few days back an uncle had come home and asked for a copy of the book. I just had a couple left and needed to send it to someone so I said I didn’t have any.

I quickly realized why people say you should never lie in front of  a child.

“Why? Aren’t there a few copies in the blue bag?” Vivaan said with authority. With great embarrassment I explained to my uncle the reason I couldn’t give those.

After he was gone Vivaan told me, “You should have given him the copies. Exit Interview is intolerable anyway.”

(Any kind of reaction failed me because I was astonished anyway that my son had the good sense to tell me this after my uncle left.)

So looks like I might have to choose Puti over Rasha very soon but I wonder whether Puti will be able to deal with bank robbers and hijackers between me handling homework, school drop off and pick up, freelance deadlines, blogging and my naughty son hitting the sleep button on the laptop at the slightest opportunity.

PS: If you are still interested to read Rasha’s story then for online orders check Flipkart, Amazon India and Amazon International.

Suchismita Dasgupta

Suchismita Dasgupta

“… I think that childfree by choice is the new gay. We’re the new disenfranchised group. People think we’re irresponsible, immoral sluts and that our lifestyle is up for debate.”

Suchismita Dasgupta wrote this on her Facebook wall a few days back. I was not surprised though. She is someone who has always spoken her mind and not always done exactly what society expected her to do. That is why Suchismita, though happily married, has decided not to be a mother.

In this post Suchismita, in her inimitable bold style, has penned her thoughts on being childfree in Indian society:

What’s a good reason to have a child?

Yes, it’s a bit tiring! I got married at 33 and have been hearing since I was 23 when am I going to get married? Then around 30, if I don’t get married now then when will I have kids? Then 7 years after getting married, I am still told ‘but you will make such a wonderful mother’ or ‘you will miss them when you are older’ or ‘it is so selfish not to have a child’ or ‘who will look after you when you are old?’. It has always made me wonder are these reasons good enough to have a child when you and your partner do not want one?

My masseuse came today for the first time. Yes I am 41 and till now didn’t think massage was important. Anyway coming back to the point, she asked me my age etc. and then children? When I replied that I don’t have any her next question was ‘naoni na hoyni’, literally translated it means, you haven’t taken one or it didn’t happen???!!!

How can a child just “happen”?

I find this word ‘happen’ extremely infuriating. In India everything seems to be happening to you. Marriage happens to you, child happens to you, misfortune happens to you and the list is endless. As if we are a bunch of reproduction machines, programmed to get married, consummate the same and reproduce. If you have not done any of them, then you are an irresponsible person bringing shame to the family.

Am I supposed to feel guilty for not having a maternal instinct?

I once had a conversation with a woman; she and her husband adopted a girl when she was about 40. This was soon after our marriage and she took it upon herself to tell me how important having children was. When I told her that I love children as long as they go back to someone else’s home, she said I was plain selfish, someone who doesn’t like children is not worth talking to. Now that suited me fine, I really didn’t care but it made me wonder how patriarchal and institutionalised this whole thought process was. I am sure there would be many (in my shoes) who would have felt guilty after this conversation for not having a lot of maternal instinct.

Suchismita in a Nextiles creation

Suchismita wearing her own design

It’s a well-thought out decision made by two people

In seven and a half years of marriage my husband and I both asked each other many times if the other really wanted a child and was not saying that because of the decision we took jointly and each time after a lot of discussion and deliberation the answer has remained the same. I still think to myself sometimes what if? But then I realise I am too settled in my life as it is right now; there’s no reason why I should change it! It might be for better or for worse but since I do not feel the urge to change it, I won’t do it and I don’t think I owe this to anyone either.

I think there should be a reason to have a child

Everyone should have a reason to have a child. A child should not just ‘happen’ to you because that’s the way you have known things to ‘happen’. Some of my friends and acquaintances have given birth to a ‘bandaid’ child; they gave birth because they think the child will save their relationship.

I feel instant pity for the poor child and the baggage it is born with. Added to this will be the pressure to perform and cope with the constant competition between the parents for attention.

A child is not born to fulfill dreams

Many parents want to fulfill their unfulfilled dreams through their children. I know someone who tells his two-year-old daughter that she has to become a doctor. I see parents treating their children like a talking doll. You go to their place, they call their children and ask them to show all the skills they have acquired. Who cares if the child hates to perform in front of strangers.

I am a doting aunt but can’t do this full time

I as an individual have no such personal crisis or future plans, in fact, I have no maternal instinct either (yeah go on call me a slut) and to be absolutely honest, I feel extremely settled and comfortable in the current state of being and I somehow don’t want to disturb that. My sudden motherhood rushes (like chocolate rush) are fulfilled by my absolute gorgeous nieces and nephews with whom I have a mutual adoration club. In fact, being a favourite aunt to many for the last 16 years, I realised, I cannot do it full time. So whilst being an aunt absolutely suits me, being a mother definitely doesn’t.

Why can’t a woman challenge social norms?

Our upbringing leads us to believe that women are the reproduction agents, who “must” look after children, home etc. We have enough books, films, television to support and coax you into that system. However the time has changed, we don’t think in terms of man and woman as genders anymore. It’s also about time we treat each other as individuals. I (a woman) as an individual may not want to give birth/adopt, breast feed/look after feeding, be woken up in the middle of night, or wake up the child in the morning to take to school. My choice, right?

Making a choice does not mean disregarding a system

Just like you don’t ask an individual (at least I should think you don’t), do you have a car? A bungalow? A pet dog? A Rolex watch? An M. F. Hussain painting? Don’t ask do you have a child? They are all pretty much a matter of choice and affordability.

At this point, I must apologise to some of you who might have been upset by the points I have picked up. That definitely wasn’t my intention. To me/us children have always been a matter of choice; the likes of us don’t believe that we must condone a system if we didn’t want to.

My choice comes with huge responsibility

To me this world has lost its story; and I must say I don’t think that this world deserves another new life, definitely not someone I will be bringing up. So let’s go back to the matter of choice. We all have a right to choose, like you choose to have a child, I choose not to have one. And to be honest this choice too comes with a huge responsibility. One day may be we will learn to respect that. Till then I live with hope.

About Suchismita:

If you have been raving about Sujoy Ghosh’s short film Ahalya then you should also know that Suchismita was the dress designer of the film. Not only that one she was the designer for Kahaani, and some of her designs were used in Parineeta. She was the winner of the Best Costume Award at Madrid International Film Festival 2013 for her work in the Bengali film Koyekti Meyer Galpo. Till date she was been the costume designer for more than two dozen films and one of the noted recent releases is Kadambari.

(From left:) Radhika Apte, make-up artist Aniruddha Chakladar, Tota Roy Choudhury and Suchismita on the sets of Ahalya

(From left:) Radhika Apte, make-up artist Aniruddha Chakladar, Tota Roy Choudhury and Suchismita on the sets of Ahalya

Growing up in Kolkata, Suchismita Dasgupta felt the need of creating comfortable yet exclusive garments using the traditional textiles and techniques. Hence, she formed Nextiles in 2004.

Nextiles focuses on the most important aspects: fabric, fit, and tailoring quality. Working closely with the weavers, embroiderers and printers from all over India, Nextiles’ main focus is to translate the traditional handwork into styles that suit the urban needs.

Nasseruddin Shah, Sujoy Ghosh, Soumik Sen, Swastika Mukherjee, Paoli Dam, Sahana Bajpayee, Aniruddha Chakladar, Ananya Chatterjee, Bidipta Chakraborty and Aparajita Ghosh are celebs who swear by Nextiles.

 

Suzette Jordan (Pix by Diganta Gogoi published in Friday)

Suzette Jordan (Pix by Diganta Gogoi published in Friday)

Strangely Suzette has been on my mind for the last few days. Mainly because of everything that’s been going on about the documentary India’s Daughter. Many friends were asking me why I hadn’t written anything on the documentary on my blog.

I hadn’t because I was angry. One interview of a despicable rapist triggered such a debate and such quick action was taken by the government. But if you Google you will find a 100 interviews and articles both in Indian and international media on Suzette Jordan, the woman who had the guts to reveal her face after being gang-raped on Park Street, but the Indian government never bothered to order a probe into her case. Never bothered to check how a Chief Minister could write off a rape saying “it is a concocted story.”

I kept thinking Nirbhaya is gone but Suzette is there – still fighting, still struggling, still facing her rapists everyday in the courtroom, but her case and ordeal continues to be dragged on and on in a sham called a fast-track court. Nirbhaya’s family was given money, an apartment and jobs, but why did it continue to be a lone battle for Suzette Jordan?

Does tragedy work better in India?

Will Suzette’s death now bring the poignancy that her story lacked so far?

Now she will probably be, finally forgiven, for going to a disco late at night (the worst blunder an Indian woman could commit)? Her struggle will now be glorified, help will come to her family or will she still remain an untouchable, like she had become, because one insensitive lady one day had declared that Suzette was lying when she reported her rape?

When I heard about her death my first instinct was to believe that she had probably been murdered because there were plenty of people out there who would have loved her dead. I couldn’t imagine she had succumbed to meningoencephalitis.

We spoke last on Facebook messenger on February 27 and she wrote, “All okay with me except my back problems.”

This was Suzette Jordan. She might have been fighting a thousand battles at that moment but she always had the positivity to say, “All okay.”

Now I see people are writing that she had a contagious laugh had a great sense of humour. Why wouldn’t she? She was every woman and being a rape survivor did not take away her right to laugh and have a life.

I had once gone to interview Suzette on a summer afternoon and their home was like any other household. Her daughters were excited to spot a feline near their pet cat Hunter. They had a friend with them along with Suzette’s nephew. The kids were telling her, “Looks like Hunter’s got a girlfriend”, and all of them were laughing.

Completely unpretentious and at ease in her two-room modest apartment in Behala, Suzette brought up her two lovely and intelligent daughters being the best mother she could be.

On hearing about Suzette’s demise I thought of her daughters, of her mother Gilda Jordan. What they must be going through. Suzette was so protective about them. Once she said, “I am so paranoid about my daughters that because of me they don’t have a normal teenage life anymore. I am perpetually calling them on their mobiles.”

But the girls never held it against her. They loved their mother with all their heart and despite the fact that their life changed completely after that fateful night the girls continued to be the pillar of support in her life, the reason for which Suzette always said she had the will to live, the will to fight.

But very few people know Suzette’s battles brought small victories for Indian women. Even if the Indian Government did not announce a probe into her case the Delhi High Court invited her twice to know her views on her trial. She had told them that the two-finger test was the most humiliating thing any woman had to go through.

Since then the test has been banned in India.

Suzette was the kind of woman who demanded respect and ensured people gave her that. “Rape is not my shame,” is something Suzette always said.

This statement defined her.

It would be unfair to say that Indian society shunned Suzette Jordan completely. She explained her dichotomous experiences best when she said, “On the one hand I have been invited to talk shows on TV, NGO inaugurations, school seminars and award functions but on the other hand despite my work experience I have not landed a job. After the incident happened if I was asked by my landlord to vacate my apartment, the landlord of my current apartment rented this place to me despite knowing everything about me. I have had parents of my daughters’ friends agreeing to send their kids over to my place to spend time with them because I was scared for my daughters to go out.”

In the last interview that I did with Suzette she had said: “If I have come this far, I am not willing to give up hope. There has to be justice. But once the case gets over, hopefully I will be able to find some peace. I won’t have to remember every gory detail of what happened to me that night and talk about it in court day after day. I won’t have to see the people who did this to me, every other day.”

Justice is what Suzette Jordan deserves, not a candle march not flowers at her grave.

 

Smit Agasti is a Class IX student of Abhinav Bharti High School

Smit Agasti is a Class IX student of Abhinav Bharti High School

It was just another normal day for Smit Agasti, a Class IX student of Abhinav Bharti High School as he boarded a bus from Central Avenue to attend his computer classes on Camac Street.

He spotted a gentleman in mid 30s dressed in a formal shirt and trouser, smoking inside the bus. Smit told himself that he could not just sit there and keep watching the other person smoke.

“I told him that he should not be smoking in the bus” said Smit.“But he behaved that he had not heard me.”

Smit told him again and this time the man reacted.

“The gentleman started using the choicest slangs and started abusing me. He even said, ‘Tor baaper paisaye cigarette khacchi?’ (Am I smoking with your father’s money?),” said Smit.

“I was a bit unnerved by his viciousness but managed to keep my cool. The conductor and a few other passengers supported me but most of the passengers didn’t seem to care.”

Smit continued to persuade the gentleman not to smoke till it came to a point when he started openly threatening him. “He said he would take me to the police if I didn’t stop. But actually I should have told him that because what he was doing was illegal. Smoking in public places is banned in India.”

(Smoking in public places in India was prohibited nationwide from October 2, 2008 under the Prohibition of Smoking in Public Places Rules, 2008 and COTPA. The nationwide smoke-free law pertains only to public places. Places where smoking is restricted include auditoriums, cinemas, hospitals, public transport (aircraft, buses, trains, metros, monorails, taxis and their related facilities (airports, bus stands/stations, railway stations), restaurants, hotels, bars, pubs, amusement centres, offices (government and private), libraries, courts, post offices, markets, shopping malls, canteens, refreshment rooms, banquet halls, discothèques, coffee houses, educational institutions and parks.)

It was clear that Smit’s words were having no impact on the man and many of the passengers, instead of supporting him, looked at him like he was wasting his time. “The man kept threatening me. He was so angry I thought he would beat me up. I was scared inside but put up a brave front. My stop came and I got off.”

After this experience, I asked Smit if he would again raise his voice if he saw someone smoking in a public place? “I would. One bad experience can’t stop me,” said the 14-year-old.

Smit has been inspired by actor Bobby Chakraborty’s anti-addiction campaign I Am The King Of My Mind and has been in regular touch with the actor since he visited his school in January this year. “As Bobbyda is inspiring thousands of school children, if I can inspire 10 people I will feel good about it.”

Actor Bobby Chakraborty has taken his anti-addiction campaign to schools in West Bengal and has inspired young minds

Actor Bobby Chakraborty has taken his anti-addiction campaign to schools in West Bengal and has inspired young minds

Although the youngster has not fared too well while convincing adults – “they always say things like if I don’t smoke I can’t go to the bathroom or my stress would not be under control” – but when it comes to his peers his success rate has been higher. “I had a friend who used to smoke. I calculated and showed him that he would be able to save so much more money and have more fun if he quit smoking. He listened to me and now we hang out together at the movies and the mall.”

Smit’s mother supports her son whole-heartedly. “My mother encourages me to save my pocket money and buy chocolates and goodies for the slum children or the inmates of an old age home.”

“On a trip to Siliguri I saw this man shivering in the cold without any warm clothes at Sealdah station. When I expressed my desire to help him out, my grandfather took out his own sweater from the suitcase and asked me to hand it over to him, which I did. My family is always with me in my endeavours,” said Smit.

Smit is not alone for there are many teenagers like him who are silently doing small things and making a big difference. They only need more support from us adults.