amritaspeaks

Among all the photos of Bhai Phonta that were on FB, these photos caught my attention. Nayana Hajra, my college mate had captioned her photos Bhai-Bon Phonta. A small change, a simple change in the concept, but it could make a big difference.

Bhai Phonta is a predominantly Hindu ritual where the sister prays for a brother’s long life. With time it has become a day when the sisters give a grand feast for the brothers and they give them gifts, it’s a day of showering love and sharing bonhomie. It’s a beautiful ritual.

Nayana, who is the proud mother of two lovely children, daughter Enakshi (Tiya) who is in Class X and son Anshuman (Dabloo), who is in Class IV, decided to tweak the ritual a bit and make it relevant for both her children. So in her house there is Bhai-Bon Phonta, brother-sister give each other phonta.

As I got talking to Nayana she told me, “I don’t know when I started this but as far I remember it’s always been like this in my house. It was always on my mind that why sisters don’t have their share of rituals or primarily the attention. Why not equal love like equal rights?”

I don’t know when I started this but as far I remember it’s always been like this in my house. It was always on my mind that why sisters don’t have their share of rituals or primarily the attention. Why not equal love like equal rights?”

– Nayana Hajra

Nayana just went ahead and changed the line to: Didir kapale dilam phonta, Jom duare porlo kata, Jom deye Jamunake Phonta, Ami diyi amar Didike Phonta

It is said change begins at home. You create the world you want your children to grow up in, first at home then outside it.

Wonderful thought Nayana! Kudos!

On the last day of this difficult year I wanted to focus on a positive story. Saswati Mukherjee is an inspiration. Not only because at 70 she started her YouTube channel Ruchi Bodol where she shares her recipes, but she is a lady who could rise like the Phoenix and turn her grief into a creative endeavour.

Families who have lost a loved one to cancer will know how hard it is to see someone suffering from so much pain. Saswati Mukherjee went through all the travails of caring for a cancer patient. But when she lost her husband to cancer she didn’t allow grief to take over her life and wallow in self-pity.

Instead she started learning a new medium, taking videos of her recipes and launched her YouTube Channel. Her channel has been a source of new ideas to many people couped up at home in the pandemic this year.

It gives me great happiness to share Saswati Mukherjee’s interview on my blog and end this year on a positive note. Her words are so inspiring, her journey so wonderful.  

• Tell us a bit about yourself.

Born in a conservative Hooghly family, I somehow grew up to be the rebel among six siblings. I had what they call an untamed soul — I climbed trees, ran track and dared boys to beat me in swimming. As a teen, I wanted to be a gymnast and began taking lessons behind my mother’s back. All was well till I broke my nose during a particularly difficult vault and my mother came to know. Oh, furious she was! As my sporty dream took a tumble, I steered all my energy into studying to become a teacher. Then, love happened. I married the most amazing man there was. And although I finished my BEd in Calcutta and received job offers, I decided to raise a family with this man instead of pursuing a career. At 70 today, I look back in joy and pride; no regrets at all.

• How did cooking become your passion?

To be honest, cooking was never really a passion. In fact, when at 22 I tied the knot with my childhood sweetheart, I didn’t know how to make dim bhaja (that is what my husband liked to call an omelette).

An  aunt who was an excellent cook took me under her wing and I have never had to look back since.

• Did the pandemic prompt you to start your YouTube channel on cooking?

No, a personal tragedy did. I lost my soulmate to cancer earlier this year and was on the verge of depression when our daughter came up with the idea. She suggested I rustle up recipes that her father made or loved, but for viewers on YouTube. Given the number of winters I have seen, I am understandably not tech-savvy and was reluctant at first. She convinced me that she would take care of filming/editing. While I miss my husband every waking minute, I must admit cooking for our channel #RuchiBodol is the best therapy I could ask for. It helps me connect with him at a whole new level.

• How do you experiment with your recipes?

Besides our shared love for sports (both of us ran track), my husband and I were travel enthusiasts. Exploring new places almost always meant trying out local food.

On our trips across India, Asia, Europe and Latin America, we not just savoured local delicacies, but brought home recipes of sauces and table condiments, which I currently mix ‘n’ match to make fusion food. My daughter too comes up with ideas to keep me going.

• What makes you the happiest when you are shooting for your channel?

• At your age not many people can start something new like this…how hard or how easy has it been for you?

It has been anything but easy. Not just because of age, but for what we’ve been through and are still going through. My husband survived a brain stem stroke in 2013 and I was his primary caregiver until he was detected with squamous cell carcinoma in November 2019. Lost him this January. Can anything be harder than losing your partner of nearly 50 years? But, I must admit that my family — my doting son-in-law in particular — has been my rock.

• Would you say that you have turned the difficult times in your favour?

I would, wouldn’t you? We, as a family, have found the best possible way to cope with a tragedy. My personal irreparable loss dwarfs the pandemic for me.

• Your recipes are very experimental and international, has your cooking always been like this?

Like I mentioned before, my recipes are rooted in our travels. Hence, the international flavour. The main objective is to prepare something offbeat and delicious — just the way my husband liked it.

• What is the greatest satisfaction of having your own recipe channel?

My daughter says every new subscriber, every thumbs up, every comment brings a smile on my face. She is not wrong. Being acknowledged for these recipes, which for me are trips down the memory lane, does bring a sense of accomplishment. And, I can feel him putting his hands together for me.

• Do you have any favourite YouTubers you look up to?

Well, I have always loved watching cooking shows on television. Nowadays, I follow the likes of Gordon Ramsay, Rachael Ray, Sanjeev Kapoor, Varun Inamdar and Ranveer Brar on YouTube.

• You are an inspiration for the next generation. What is your message to them?

Dale Carnegie, whom my husband often quoted, once wrote “the most important things in the world have been accomplished by people who have kept on trying when there seemed to be no hope at all”. If I can be a YouTuber in my seventies, nothing should stop GeNext from following their dreams. Remember, you are always stronger than you think. 

If you liked this beautiful interview from an inspiring lady go ahead and subscribe to her channel Ruchi Bodol. It’s a great way to start the year, isn’t it?

If there is something that anyone living abroad can share in abundance, it’s their guest experiences. Apart from the literal baggage that they bring with them, some do leave you with an emotional baggage of memories that you wish didn’t happen. You often sigh in relief that those are just memories that wouldn’t be re-lived because chances are you wouldn’t let those guests into your house – ever again.

This story is about a similar guest experience of Leela and Ankush. The couple moved to Dubai five years back. Child free and well placed, they lived in a sprawling two-bedroom apartment in the heart of the city, with a pool on the terrace and an upmarket mall across the road.

When Leela’s ex-colleague’s sister from Kolkata, Namita, someone she had never seen in her life, moved to Dubai and had made the customary call to her – something anyone grappling in a new place does- she had obviously invited them for dinner.

Over mutton and luchi cooked by her Bengali Chef, she had told them of every possible thing she knew about Dubai, except for the fact that Namita and her husband Ajit were the last guests to be entertained in their plush apartment. The next day they were moving to a one-bedroom apartment next door because they couldn’t afford the rent anymore.

It had become like a ritual for new settlers in Dubai to come calling, but very few actually returned the dinner invitation or stayed in touch once they got busy with their lives and with Namita and Ajit, Leela expected the same to happen. So she thought it was unnecessary to tell them that this posh abode, that she was so proud of, wouldn’t belong to them from the very next day.

After that grand dinner, as expected Namita and Ajit got on with their lives, the invitation wasn’t reciprocated and the phone calls too started dwindling. Leela and Ankush settled in their one-bedroom home. They weren’t as welcoming to guests anymore because that sense of pride they had in their home was gone. They had nothing to show off. The only saving grace was the smaller space. For a cleanliness freak like Leela, who took up the dusting cloth the moment she returned from office, there were less nooks and crannies now from where dust had to be eradicated.

Almost a year had passed when suddenly one day there was a frantic phone call from Ajit, all the way from Kolkata.

“Didi, please help. We are returning to Dubai tomorrow but I came to know our rented place has been taken over by the landlord. He had sent me some legal notice earlier but I could not make out because it was in Arabic. Didi can Namita stay with you for a few days till I find a new place? I won’t stay with her as my office is giving me five-star accommodation,” he said.

All in one breath.

Leela was in shock.

How could she tell him about their fall from grace, about the absence of a guest room in their home?

“Umm…can’t Namita come back later after you have found the place?”

Leela was over her initial shock.

“She has to go back with me. We bought tickets on an offer and we will not get any refund if we cancel them. Please didi, a few days only. We have no one else we can ask for help in Dubai.”

Leela said she would call back.

Her anxious call went to Ankush.

“The Malayalees would help anyone from Kerala,” Ankush philosophised. “Although I am not sure what the Bengalis would do,” he added.

So it was decided that this Bengali couple would help out this other Bengali couple from Kolkata whom they had met only once, but since they didn’t have anyone else in Dubai, they would be the pillar they could lean on. Just like Malayalees supported each other in their community.

Ankush went a step ahead. He wanted to give Namita their bedroom but Leela wouldn’t have any of that. She felt their sofa bed in the sitting room was comfortable enough.

“You are not understanding Ankush. If Namita has the bedroom Ajit will move in too and they would junk their plans to find a rented apartment. Two month’s rent saved in Dubai is a lot of money,” said Leela.

Ankush gave her the daggers but in his heart he probably knew Leela made sense.

The next day they arrived, Namita looked a wee bit apologetic but Ajit walked around like he owned the apartment.

“Can I get a towel? Need a shower badly,” were the first words Ajit offered.

Leela handed him a brand new Marks & Spencer towel.

“Your washroom is so small, the other house had a bigger one. But thankfully you still have a bathtub,” said Ajit.

Leela cringed. She wasn’t sure if her effort at being a Malayalee was the right decision.

They devoured lunch cooked by the Bengali Chef, who had been retained, that Ajit was quick to point out.

“Good to see you still have the cook.”

Post lunch, Ajit wanted a drop to his accommodation from Ankush.

“Which hotel?”  Ankush asked starting the car.

“I refused the hotel accommodation. Don’t want to be a burden on the company because of what happened. I will be staying with a colleague who lives in a single accommodation nearby.”

Ajit wanted to get a drop on the main road and walk to the house, but Ankush insisted he could not leave him with his luggage like that. When they approached the run-down two-storey building with the community litter-bin standing in front of it, Ankush realized the reason for Ajit’s reluctance to let him near it.

From the next day, when they left for work, Namita was sleeping on the sofa bed. When they were back they found her in the exact same position. But magically a stash of utensils had piled up in the sink and food crumbs were everywhere, the fridge looked raided and Ajit’s washed clothes and underclothes were hanging in the balcony.

After three days of this, Leela took leave from work. Ajit appeared at meal times and he claimed he was looking for an apartment and attending office. After meals, Namita always went back to bed and Leela to the sink.

Then five nights later Ajit made an appearance at 11pm.

“I can’t sleep in that house anymore. Bedbugs. Too many. Haven’t been sleeping at night. Will sleep here from now on.”

“Bed bugs!!??” Leela shrieked.

“Why didn’t you tell me? That means you have been bringing them here,” she said agitatedly.

“Namita’s washing my clothes with care,” said Ajit matter-of-factly.

“But she is washing your clothes here only. In our machine.”

“Can you give me a blanket please? I am very sleepy,” Ajit said. He had no intention of extending the conversation.

“And Ankush da a T-shirt will help. I didn’t get any night clothes.”

Ankush handed him a blanket and a T-shirt. He glanced at Leela to gauge the impact of the information just shared. It wasn’t good.

Leela stayed up all night scanning every inch of the bed and kept complaining that she could feel bug bites. Ankush knew his wife bordered on OCD when it came to bed bugs. They had lost some friendships too because of this ugly creature.

In the next few days Leela upturned all the furniture and searched every corner for that dreaded black crawling dot. Her unslept eyes had dark circles and she had extended her leave.

But despite this catastrophe Leela strangely remained loyal to their pledge of helping the “hapless” couple out. There was only one thing Leela insisted. Ajit had to choose in which house he wanted to stay because he couldn’t keep going back to a bed bug -infested house and then sleep in their house. Ajit’s choice need not be elaborated.

At the end of eight days, Ajit finally announced that he had found an accommodation.

“Take the blanket, bed sheet, towel, T-shirt everything with you.”

This was Leela’s first reaction.

A few months later Namita called to inform she had laundered everything they took and wanted to return those. Leela remained generous. She asked Namita to keep everything.

*

Leela was in a meeting. It wasn’t a known number. There were three missed calls. Fourth time she picked up.

“Leeladi my name is Anindita your neighbour Umesh kaku gave me your number. It’s been three days I have moved to Dubai. He said I should get in touch with you. I was wondering if we could meet for coffee.”

“Anindita, I am afraid I am busy for the next eight weekends.”

This story has been published in the UK in the Durga Puja 2018 issue of Panchmeshali- The Diaspora Magazine. (Photographs taken from the net.)

The Legend of Genghis Khan by Sutapa Basu has been published by Readomania recently

Sutapa Basu’s earlier two works Dangle and Padmavati had strong women protagonists. But this time she has turned her attention to a man. It’s not just any man it’s Genghis Khan, the historical figure, who has been known as one of the most ruthless conquerors in history. Basu’s story brings forth different aspects of the character of a man that has rarely been talked about. The writer for instance, points out that Genghis Khan believed in equal rights for women and property rights for widows and gave administrative position to women in his army. This was at a time when women were treated as mere shadows of men.

In this interview Sutapa Basu says why she wanted to write a book on Genghis Khan, how difficult it was for her to do the research and how she took help from a Mongolian language expert.

The interview:

In both of your earlier books Dangle and Padmavati the protagonists have been women. Is it the same with Legend of Genghis Khan?

No, it is not. Here the chief protagonist is Genghis Khan, an ultra-masculine figure.

We know very little about the lives of women during Genghis Khan’s time (1162-1227). Does your book shed light on that?

Certainly. A unique aspect of Genghis Khan’s administration was the revolutionary change in the status of women of his Empire. These changes are remarkable given that during the 11^th and 12^th century women were little more than chattels of men across the rest of the world and especially in the so-called civilized Europe. Genghis Khan bestowed women with equal rights as men so that they were respected as matriarchs of their families. Property of widows remained with their families. Thus, his men went into battle with an assurance that their families will not be deprived on their death. Even a share of the plunder was handed over to the bereaved families. Genghis Khan encouraged women to train in warfare and often during his campaigns they were given administrative roles in his army when the men were busy fighting. The conquest of Nishapur during the Mongolian campaign of Khwarezm was spearheaded by Genghis’ daughter.

Sutapa Basu did extensive research to write the book

Why did the character of Genghis Khan interest you and how did the idea of creating a mystery woman and weaving a story around it come to you?

After the accolades Padmavati received, I was encouraged to go beyond Indian history and look for a World History figure to write about. I began to research and quite soon Genghis Khan stood out among historical personalities. He was head and shoulders above all. I realized that other than a couple of academic books, nothing much had been written about him that would interest story seekers. And yet his life itself had been like an unbelievable story. Very little was really known about him other than the fact that he was a ruthless conqueror. As I delved further into his life, I was intrigued to discover endless depths to his personality. There was no question of looking anywhere else for my protagonist for the great Khan had eclipsed everyone else.

The idea of creating the mystery woman came from one of the many anecdotes connected to Genghis Khan’s life.

How did you do the research for the book?

I researched by reading printed books and downloaded PDFs of books on Genghis Khan and the Mongol Empire, saw documentary films on Genghis Khan and did online research on customs, food, clothes, language, maps, environment specific to the historical period and region. I was very fortunate that I was guided and mentored by the famous historian and Mongolist, Dr John Man. I got all the regional terms in the book validated by an expert in Mongolian language.

“I was very fortunate that I was guided and mentored by the famous historian and Mongolist, Dr John Man.”

Was it difficult to write a book on a historic character like this or did you breeze through it?

I certainly did not breeze through it. There was a great deal of concerted research and painstaking effort but when my passion is involved nothing seems like work, nothing seems difficult. I enjoyed every bit of it.

How long did you take to write this book?

It took me around 7-8 months to give my final manuscript to the publisher.

What is your writing regime like and do you have any rituals, superstitions or eccentricities?

I prefer to write at my desk in my study, though I do jot down points on my phone or a small notebook on my bedside table when inspiration strikes. Usually, I try to write every day. My only superstition is I don’t discuss the topic of my book with anybody other than my publisher until it is published.

There are a number of books available on online sites on the legend. How is your book different?

I discovered a few academic books written by Dr John Man. There are English translations of The Secret History of the Mongols and ‘Ala-ad-Din’ Ata-Malik Juvaini’s Genghis Khan, The History of the World Conqueror which I read.

My book is different because it explores the whys of Genghis Khan’s life. I have attempted to find the man behind his universally redoubtable fame. Who was he? Why did he do what he did? What makes him tick? I firmly believe that through my story, Genghis Khan will come alive for the readers. He will no longer be a cardboard cutout of a bloodthirsty barbarian that many historians have made him out to be. Readers will see him as a man of great strength and indomitable will who struggled against and won over circumstances that would have destroyed a lesser man.

“He will no longer be a cardboard cutout of a bloodthirsty barbarian that many historians have made him out to be.”

Padmavati was made into unauthorized copies and were sold at roadside stalls. Did this flatter you or distress you?

I would say piracy of a book is a compliment to its author. Yes, I was very flattered that there was such a demand for my book that book pirates found it profitable to make it into contraband.

As an author what makes you most happy and terribly sad?

I am most happy when a reader identifies so much with my protagonist’s pain that he/she passionately accuses me of wrongfully putting the protagonist through so much suffering.

Sad? I am sad when I see people spending so much on food, clothes or other luxuries but not on books even though they cost much less.

“I am sad when I see people spending so much on food, clothes or other luxuries but not on books even though they cost much less.”

What are you working on next?

Another historical fiction. Maybe a nonfiction book too.

About the author:

Sutapa Basu is the best-selling author of Padmavati, The Queen Tells Her Own Story (2017, pub Readomania), a historical fiction. She has authored a psychological thriller, Dangle (2016, pub Readomania) and her second historical fiction, The Legend of Genghis Khan has been released on 20^th September this year. A poet, author, publishing consultant, she is the 2016 First Prize winner of the Times of India’s Write India Campaign for Amish Tripathi.

Wonderful piece on writing and “becoming” a writer…

Sharmila Bhowmick got to the bottom of the mobile phone scam

A refrain that we often get to hear is investigative journalism is dead. But Sharmila Bhowmick is clearly not one to believe in that. That is why she went all the extra miles to get to the bottom of one of the biggest scams happening in India in recent times.

To know about it read her article here 

Sharmila tells us how she did it:

“It just sounded too good to be true”

One of the most interesting stories ever; basically where a few simple questions thwarted a major botch up. After the gala launch of ‪#‎Freedom251, I only just decided to land up at their factory to follow up on what had caught the imagination of the country: an unbelievably cheap phone at Rs 251.

The look and feel of the place spoke for its self. In a rushed interview, the company owners said that they had not got factories yet, they didn’t yet have a phone; but they had procured 25 lakh bookings online. It pretty much seemed like a product being sold on the basis of an idea. It is the age of selling ideas anyway, and Goel seemed to have caught that nerve.

Next day, I found something new, vouchers of Freedom251 being sold in the village markets of interior Noida to really poor people. No mention was made by Goel & Co about on ground sales before.

With all doors closing and an FIR lodged by one of its vendors; yesterday Goel confirmed that he is refunding all the money. But added that as and when the phone does get made, it will be delivered on a cash-on-delivery basis.

They still don’t have a factory, they still don’t have a phone to show.

The whole point in doggedly following the story to this end is only to show, how easy it is to sell anything to the mass. It also shows how reporters really increasingly need to go to the closest point of the origin of news to get the truth out. You get nothing at media events, go to the ground and while on the ground, go closest to the spot.

Had I not gone as far as the Ringing Bells office gates, I would have possibly never been able to bring out what it was all about; and possibly a lot of water would have passed under the bridge before someone shouted SCAM!

“For journalists there is never any substitute for leg work”

There is always a good story to be told. So find it, and say it well. That is simply the inner guide I look for while hunting for a story. Only this, has led me to break and bust quite a few virulent scams – sand mafia, real estatae scams, a Muslim’s-only apartment scam where poor Muslim’s were conned – over the last few years. Use technology well, but don’t become its slave. A good reporter has sharp eyes, a sharp nose and is never credulous. A good story today is still a harvest of great foot work and real interaction with human beings. Go to the ground; while on the ground, go closest to the spot. There is no substitute for leg work. Reporting is and will be, the soul of journalism.

“I was so thrilled to report stories I worked without money in my first job”

It was one day, while waiting for a professor to arrive in class and then being told that she was not turning up, that I decided that I would rather use my time productively, while doing some real work and not waste time. I dropped out of my MA course, after a full year’s labour; much to the chagrin of the professors for wasting a precious JU- Comparative Literature MA seat. I started working for free with MJ Akbar’s Asian Age. I did somehow complete a journalism diploma from the University in an evening course, after work. By the way, since high school and since I was 17, I have been financially independent and even funded my own education.

The Asian Age was the most thrilling experience ever. I used to submit my stories written in long hand, when someone introduced me to computer typing. Soon, I got hired by Newstime, a Hyderabad-based paper’s Kolkata bureau to cover the Calcutta political scene. After this, I joined The Hindustan Times, Kolkata. I became the only girl, in an all-male bureau, covering hard news. But the scenario changed after a few years, when women joined.

I left Kolkata for Delhi in 2004 and joined HT digital, New Delhi. I arrived in Delhi without an appointment letter, just on the basis of a word of my would-be boss, Sanjay Trehan. However, I was given the letter within minutes of reaching office.

I was producing the world pages for the portal and then Sanjay quite unbelievably gave me permission to write a preposterous single-woman column: Girl Talk. The column, though outrageous at times, became very popular.

After a while, I decided to quit mainstream media for a bit, and got hired by Sankarshan Thakur, the then Executive Editor of Tehelka to write for and produce its feature pages. I did that for close to a year. After a year, CNBC hired me to research and write a documentary series of shows called Business Legends, the pillars of India’s corporate history.

I got to work closely with Victor Banerjee and direct him as well. I also produced a series called the Lessons-In-Excellence, a sort of master-class series on business strategy. This was my longest stint at any place ever. In eight years, I produced hundreds of documentary films and shows.

But as they say, once a reporter, always a reporter. When I heard Times of India was launching an edition in unchartered journalistic greenfield like Noida and Gurgaon, I had to put my foot in.

The real human stories, seldom lie in the centre of buffed and polished metropolis they are always in the subaltern, the hinterland. NCR is like that. It has the issues where the rural meets the urban, how lives are changing; how cultures are clashing; how the glitz of the urban is inducing aspirations and the fall out of that. You actually live within a few kilometers of a real village and a kilometre away from the country’s biggest mall. It is an interesting landscape, with numerous untold stories, waiting to be told. I’m enjoying every bit of it.

Sharmila Bhowmick 39, is an Assistant Editor with The Times of India. When she is not on a story trail, she is either painting or sculpting. She lives with her six-year-old daughter.