My Experience in Amreeci Village : Pujo 2015

This is my first Pujo where I have not spent a single day in Kolkata. I was depressed to say the least. I was homesick to the point I could physically feel it in the pit of my stomach. I am not a religious person at all. But Pujo is so much more than just a religious festival. It is almost a tradition. It is my roots. It is nostalgia. It is my childhood and my growing up. Pujo is a part of every single person's life living in Kolkata and I am sure the rest of Bengal. It is a feeling an indescribable feel-good feeling.

ASP and VP who live in the nearby village of Parsiappany in NJ told me that there are some Pujos nearby them. Not Pujo on the Pujo day. But 5 days of Pujo crammed into one and a half days. But I thought to myself. It would still be Pujo So it was decided that I would go over to their house and go over I did last weekend.

So we got our "tickets" to the most famous Pujo that there is in New Jersey. Yes. You have to get "tickets" worth $60 per head per day to be able to even get a glimpse of Ma. If you do not have your "ticket" ( represented by a band on your hand ) the very Amreeci bouncers standing on the doorway will NOT let you enter to even get a glimpse of Ma. ( To be fair I have heard it is not the same in other pujos across the country. )

So the day comes and we put on our ethnic outfits and set about to go see Ma. I was feeling a little better because if Durga Pujo is there can Kolkata be far behind? But the Pujo itself made me feel a million times more depressed. It was not Pujo at all. There was no Pujo feeling. It was just a podium for fashion show. An annual display of the Dhakais and Jamdanis and Kanjeeverams along with the latest on P.C Chandra and Anjali Jewellers.  I am not kidding when I say that there was an actual booth for P.C Chandra jewellers along with booths for expensive saris and punjabis. In the sub zero temperature(-4 C to be exact) it was a show of backless cholis, slinky blouses, and flat abs peeking behind transparent pallus. Ma was there as a backdrop for taking pictures. I went and stood in front of the idols to just hang my head and reminiscence. In like about 2 seconds I heard, 'Young lady can you please move to the side?" because Ganesh was being dismantled. The hall had to be cleared for the concert to follow. So bye bye Bhagwan. " Asche bochor abar hobe."

The Pujor adda was there in the form of gossip (which was sort of right on track). But the adda had its own added forced accent. Why is it that people don't get that it is very easy to differentiate between a natural accent and a forced accent ? And speaking Bangla as if it will break your teeth is far FAR from appealing.

I ended up being even more depressed after going to that Pujo. The saving graces were ASP. (The moment she entered she was like "P you will not like this Pujo. This is EXACTLY like Bangalore Pujo") , the "Desh pujobarshiki", the not so yummy Fish Fry and the very yummy Shammi Kebab.

My experience in the Amreecan Village : My two recent brush with the Amreeci security.

It is summer and the season of sight seeing in this country. It is like everyone is out and about and obviously I have to be out too. Even though I am still limping around with a giant leg brace. So last weekend VP, ASP and I along with RR (one of VP's friends) decided to pay the Lady herself a visit. We had to get on the cruise from Liberty Park NJ and there was a security screening set up. After having to walk for about 20 mins from the parking lot to the security screening my leg was already giving away. In the line I kept my bag in the designated tray for me. The security guards notices my brace and this is the conversation that followed.

SG : Mam you will need to take off your braces.
Me : I cannot walk if I take them off.
SG : Please stand there mam.

Then they waited for a woman security officer to come. In the meanwhile the whole line behind me was held up. A female security officer arrives. I was wearing shorts, a cotton blouse, a scarf, glasses and sandals.

SG : Mam take off your scarf and your glasses.
Me : My glasses?
SG : Yes Mam.
Me : OK.

I take all these things off and put them in a tray.

SG : Please take off your shoes mam.
Me : I need to sit in order to take my shoes off.

At this point ASP crosses over and helps me with my shoes.

SG : Do you have a belt mam ? Is there anything in your pocket mam.
Me : No

I cross through the metal detector and the female security officer pats me down. She puts her hands as far as it would go under my shirt and under my shorts. Then she gives me a chair, asks me to sit and take my braces off so that they can screen the braces through the xray machine once again.



This time while coming back through JFK my experience with the immigration was rather amusing as well. I was already in a wheel chair when the officer started asking me a bunch of question. I am just jotting down the interesting portions of that conversation.

O : So what do you do here ?
Me : I work for IBM.
O : I can see that. What sort of work?
Me : ( At this point I am thinking, just because you have a computer in front of you does not mean you will understand anything about Middleware Administration ) I am a Middleware Web Content Developer and Administrator.
O : Where do you stay mam?
Me : I give him my address.
O : Why are you going to NJ from here if you live in PA?
Me : My friend lives there and I am going to crash at her place because of the knee and all.
O : (After a minute of silence) So where are you coming from.
Me : India
O : Did something happen to you in India ?
Me : Excuse me?
O : Are you here for treatment and recovery ?
Me : No. Something happened to me here and I went to India for treatment and recovery.
O : ( Another minute of silence and then looking at the airport staff who was helping me ) She can go now.


On this Liberty Island trip we also went to Ellis Island. Not much has changed between then and now. The Amereeci sarkaar still treats the immigrants as aliens. Not good enough for human status. But as their own documentary says, America was and still is a "Country of Immigrants." That is what sometimes makes it bearable to stay away from family and friends. And just because no matter what, we should always have that sense of humour, here is a happy. smiley picture with the Lady Liberty in the background.

The Transaero Experience : Amreeca to India

I like bargains. Always have. Always will. In Kolkata I am an expert haggler when it comes to street-side shopping. I think it is a genetic gift from my mother. My friends usually stay away from me and pretend that they do not recognize me when I am in the middle of a heated bargaining session. I once managed to get a pajama for free from a Gariahat vendor. He was so frustrated with my bargaining that he said "Ei nin. Tahole free tei niye jan"( Just take it for free.) He was obviously trying to be sarcastic. He did not realize that I would actually put the pajama in my bag and start walking. In my defence he did say it.

So while coming back from Amreeca for my 3 and a half week of breather to Kolkata I was looking for a bargain. And I landed on Transaero Airlines. It was atleast 500 bucks cheaper than its closest competitor. No one in my circle of family, or friends, or colleagues knew or even heard about it.  Before confirming my ticket I googled Transaero and Moscow airport thoroughly. I saw that it had below average rating and most of it was because of poor in-flight entertainment.

Well here is my experience flying Transaero. The good, the bad and the ugly(which was probably not the airlines fault).

Flight from JFK to Moscow
============================================

1. I, owing to my very famous right operated leg, had taken wheelchair assistance. KB was flying with me which was a big big big humoungous help. I requested for a wheelchair at the checkin counter before getting the boarding pass. We were told by many that we displayed amazing ignorance by not doing a web check in, but even then we did get seats side by side in both the flights. The staff was quite considerate about it. After waiting for about 10 minutes I got a wheelchair.
2. As KB put it, my pain was her gain. Thanks to the wheelchair we breezed through security, and the staff was nice enough to stop at a restroom for me. He wheeled me right to the gate. Just before boarding started for everyone else another wheelchair appeared and they wheeled me to the gates of the flight.
3.  The flight was clean and full. The stewards and stewardesses were very good looking. The issue was their English was a little broken. They took my crutch and stowed it away safely.
4. After the flight was in flight(I am not sure if that is a tautological error) everyone got blankets but no pillows. Now this was bizzare. I specifically asked for pillows and they explained that pillows were only for babies. That is  bad according to me. In a long 9 hour long flight you should provide pillows to your flyers.
5. The in-flight entertainment had a host of popular Hollywood movies and shows. Each seat had its own personal video screen. The catch. Everything was in Russian with no subtitles. This was not a very big issue for me because I had my own entertainment. KB.
6. The food on this flight was actually quite good. There were a big group of orthodox Jewish students flying and the flight had special Kosher meals for them.
I had an interesting conversation with the flight attendants before I got my lunch.
Pretty Flight Attendant (in broken English) : You ordered special veg mean.
Me : No
PFA : Yes you did.
Me : No
PFA : But it says you did.
Me : Ok give me the veg dish.
PFA : But we no have veg dish. We only have fish dish.

I got fish a-la-kiev with mashed potatoes which was quite tasty. They served a veg salad which had a piece of ham in it. There were two breads. My advice. Do not eat them. And a bar of chocolate.

They served a second meal. I took eggs and sausages which was again quite tasty. KB took french toast. She was not a fan.

There was tea, coffee, different kind of juices and soda but no ginger ale. I did not see any alcohol. (On a completely different note. I have decided to take Thumbs Up from Kolkata and bring back Ginger Ale from the US)
7. My seat was perfect with enough leg space even for my broken leg. KB's backrest kept on sliding back even when the button was not pressed.
8. The flight was smooth and the landing applause worthy. It was also in time.
9. As mentioned there was a bunch of pubescent Jewish boys on the flight. Even in all their orthodox finery they were indisciplined monsters. I wanted to throw them off the flight. These were a bunch of typical "badhe baapke bigde huye aulad" They would hit my leg and murmer sorry and continue to do the same. They hit KB while she was sleeping. They also decided the spot just in front of our seat was the coolest place to hangout. they were loud and unruly and their caretakers were useless. I wish the flight attendants handled the situation better and made them quieten down for the other passengers.


Flight from  Moscow to New Delhi
============================================

1. The way Moscow airport got me in the flight is what sci-fi movies are made up off. The flight was from Gate 37. The staff got me out of Gate 21. Then a ramp came down and I was put in the ramp along with my wheelchair. The ramp automatically started moving and I was inside a truck. Te truck drove straight to the plane. Then the whole truck with everyone inside lifted up. Another ramp came out till the door of the flight. It was just oh-so-cool.
2. This one was a smaller flight and was completely empty. The staff (who again really pretty Russians with broken English) were nice enough and let me take a seat in the middle where there were three seats so that I could stretch my legs. I ended up completely lying down.
3. We got the blankets but this time KB took matters into her own hands and found the stash of pillows and got us a couple.
4. The in-flight entertainment was non-existant in the form of a giant screen at the front of the flight which showed whatever the pilot fancied I guess.
5. As for food I got chicken for myself and KB got fish. The chicken with rice was rathar nice a version of Lila Majumdar's pishpash with boiled carrots. The fish was apparently quite bad. This time also there veg salad had a giant chunk of raw fish. I am not sure what else they served because I slept through that. And ofcourse there was tea, coffee, juices and sodas.
6. The flight was before time and the landing once again impeccable.
7. As soon as I landed in Delhi there was a staff with a wheelchair for me. We were at the extreme last gate and this is something I would like to mention specifically. I offered him cash, because I thought this is India and all that. He did not take it. He said "Thank You Ma'am. I was only doing my job."

When I was flying back to Kolkata from New Delhi via Indigo, both the staff was actually expecting me to pay them for pushing me in the wheelchair.

All in all I would actually recommend Transaero. Carry your own entertainment and stock up on some food. From functionality, safety, security, punctuality and cost effectiveness, it is a good choice. I will confirm my opinion after I return to the States. I have my tickets on the same flight.

P.S. - Moscow airport does not accept Dollars. It only accepts Rubles and some shops might accept Credit Cards. Best is to have some Russian currency with you. 1 Russian Ruble == 1.15 INR.

The shorts Story

I have grown up in a bustling metropolitan city. My parents are moderately liberal. My dad never really cared much about clothes in general or what I wore in particular. Even as a kid when I would ask him for money to buy clothes his general response was always " Why do you need money for rags?". But if I said I needed money for books he would actually give me extra money. My mother on the other hand was and still is a little too opinionated about what I wear. She does not really mind what I wear when I am out with my friends. But when it comes to me visiting my relatives she always insists that I wear a salwar suit or saris (something grown up and traditional). She also tells me that traditional clothes suit my body type better ( what she means is I am fat and I should not wear western outfits). But even me, just me, if I am in Kolkata I would not out of my own wear something above my knee or something off-shoulders or something like a spaghetti even during the hot sweltering months. And if I am absolutely honest a lot of it has to do with how I will be ogled at on the streets but a lot of it also has to do with how I will be get looks filled with judgment and disapproval by mostly other women on the road. I think, this is the reason that prompts my mother also. What other people would think if I bare too much skin.

The first incident happened in 2011 when I burned my leg. I remember I could not wear, leggings or jeans for obvious reasons. I tried wearing skirts a little below my knee but they would brush against my burn and that used to hurt mind-numbingly much. So I used to wear long skirts and saris when outside. Around the house, I used to wear shorts and nightshirts. The thought of wearing a short short outside, even when I was hurting because the fabric would brush against the burnt skin, did not ever cross my mind


The second incident is fresh. 2015 and my ACL repair. Dr M who is super efficient and has been very accommodating to my needs(which I appreciate so much that I actually want to voluntarily hug him at times) does not really mince his words. The first time I went to see him I was wearing knee length shorts which would be considered quite scandalous among  society at home. The conversation went something like this.

Dr M : Why are you not wearing shorts ?
Me : But I am.
Dr M : No something shorter. Much above your knee.
Me : How much shorter?
Dr M (pointing to my lower thigh) : This is where your final stitch is going to be. So something above that.
Me : I do not wear such shorts.
Dr M : Why?
Me (I did not know how to explain all these complex social rules I have grown up with and instead said what I believed was what everybody was thinking) : Because my legs are not nice.
Dr M : Aesthetically I have no comments. But if you want your legs to be nice from a functional point of view you will wear shorts. I cannot have anything touching my stitches."
At that point I was thinking the stitches are mine they will be on my leg. But the option was clear. I would risk showing ugly leg rather than have an infected leg.

I bought three pair of shorts. I figured it would tide me over 6 weeks of recovery. I have been moving around in them. At first I was a liitle uncomfortable. Not only am I wearing shorts for the first time after puberty, I was not allowed to take a bath for two weeks. Now, although I am allowed to take a bath, I am still not allowed to scrub my leg let alone shave it. So I have been to a hospitals, across state lines, beaches and a bank in shorts with unshaven leg. Guess what ? Nobody cared. Nobody gave a second glance. Well actually they did to ask me if my leg was okay because of the braces. Nobody asked why my legs are not shaved or why I am wearing shorts. People usually made way for me and helped me

Till today morning that is. I went to the bank today in NJ and there was a lady in a salwar suit with her husband. I was there with VP. The looks that she gave me. I had forgotten that look. One full of disapproval and viciousness. She moved a little closer to her husband and then she saw I was with VP and gave VP a look too. A look of  "How can you let your woman wear what she is wearing."

I am supposed to land in Kolkata in 10 days. I wonder what happens if I land up in my city wearing shorts ? I will be judged won't I ? In my own city ? Does this really mean I am somehow disrespecting my culture??

"Motion se hi emotion" or "Pupu misses her poop"

The last post talks about me visiting Dr Kathleen with a twisted knee post Zumba. That happened a month and a half back.

A lot has happened since then. In short after meeting Dr Kathleen and then Dr H and then getting an MRI and then meeting Dr H and then meeting Dr M, I finally got my knee surgery done last Tuesday that is 26thMay 2015. The medical system in the U.S. is crazy and complicated and is like navigating through a treacherous maze. I also had to sign about 8 different agreements before I got the surgery and also got asked 7 times if I have a living will. If I don't would I like to get in touch with someone who can help me draw a draft. Let me just say that hearing that I need a living will right before a knee surgery is not what keeps my spirits up.

The day of the surgery I actually flew in a red-eye from Portland. One of my biggest fears during the surgery was that I would not go completely down under or I would wake up in the middle of the surgery. I made my fears  known very strongly and I guess I was given anesthesia accordingly. I did not wake up at all. Moreover the pain killers that were pumped into me made me just simply pass out from time to time. I am eating yogurt and I would pass out with the spoon in my hand. I would pass out with cheese sticks inside my mouth. I would switch on the TV with all intentions of watching something and yes just simply pass out. I would wake up and tell ASP that she and VP are part of a Charlie Chaplin movie and pass out again.

As highly annoying as that was it was not even as frustrating as what I am going through right now. My poop has vanished. There is no poop coming out of my system. And today is the 4th day. It is not even like I feel bloated or constipated. I am eating more than my 14,000 calories a day because of all the meds but still no poop. I could not eat hot or spicy stuff for the last three days but now I can start I am guessing. As I am sipping my glass of prune juice I am hoping that something will work its magic. Some super effective remedy will present itself sooner or later. If nothing works I will call KB and talk to her till something comes out.

At this point all I can say is that "Pupu misses her poop".

Knee POP : Some basic information of getting to doctors office in Amreecan village

Knee POP or in other words I popped my knee.

So it is not a mystery to anybody that I need to lose weight. Ever since I came to the US I have lost 10 pounds. I need to lose at the very least 37 pounds more. This is not for vanity. This is because of the fact that I am overweight This is also because of the fact that both my parents have serious heart problems and if I do not start seriously taking care of myself now, the inevitable will happen.

Now to less morbid and slightly fun stuff. (Maybe not that fun but interesting fun). You know how there are all these notes and posts all over about weird Mathematical connections to different incidents of famous people or incidents in general. Well I am not so famous but still here goes.

• In March 2011, I burnt the back portion of my right lower leg. I was in Goa at that time planning to go for water gliding. That never happened.
• In March 2013, I was in D in a hotel and I slipped and fell while coming out of the bathroom. I twisted my right ankle. Later I found out I have torn my ligament and had to get physiotherapy for it.
• In April(not March)2015 I am doing Zumba. As I said I need to lose weight. My knee suddenly goes pop and from the next day I cannot walk. And yes I cannot do Zumba now for atleast 4 months.And when I was just starting to enjoy an exercise.

Notice the pattern? I will be super careful in March 2017. I will not get off my butt. But with the given trend, chances are that my chair will fall under me.

Now to the part which I hope actually helps new people coming to Amreecan villages.  How to go about getting a doctor to see your leg(or arm/or head/or stomach/any general ailment).

1.The first thing that I did(and this part I did correctly) is go to the medical insurance site(or call them up)for a listing of doctors(in my case sports orthopaedic specialist)around the neighbourhood.
2. Then I tried calling up the individual offices of the doctors and none of them had any opening till end of April and all of them suggested that I should get myself checked at an urgent care facility first. So lesson number 2 is if you need immediate attention with anything (ANYTHING that is not serious to the extent that you are not dying) then go to an urgent care facility. And yes this urgent care facility must fall under the approved list of places for your medical insurance company. Call them up before hand to find out till when they are open. It is not like all places are open 24x7. If you are dying or have serious medical emergency always call 911.
3. If you live alone and don't have people around to help keep any cab company number handy. Uber or Local Cab Numbers. For people in Philly and KOP area I suggest Philly Main Line Cab. They have excellent service and are highly reliable.
4. Go to the urgent care and fill up all the forms and hand over your insurance card and be sure to carry an ID Proof.
5. The doctors then had me checked and in my case it was not too serious. I was advised rest, elevation, ice and compression. I was given IbuProfen to be taken after 6 hours.I was also asked to keep off my foot. Anything else that is needed including medicines or other accessories( like knee caps) will be provided by the urgent care and everything should be handled through your insurance.
6. In my case the attending Dr Kathleen (who was the most gorgeous woman I have seen in my life)also adviced me to get an orthopaedic appointment now only for a later date. If I dont need it I can always go cancel it. But I will under no circumstances get an appointment at a specialists immediately. And if I do get an appointment once then it is easier and faster for me to get an appointment the next time. Do not ask me the logic behind this. Apparently this is how it works atleast in the state of Pennsylvania


I think I have covered the most important parts.


Now I need to give a speech. Always wanted to do this but never won an award. But publicly writing about knee injury gave me this fantastic opportunity.

Firstly I want to thank my amazing roommate PNT for being so concerned and amazing and opening doors and cooking for me and cleaning all the dishes. I am really sorry PNT that I abandoned you.

Secondly to CGNC. I know you don't know about my blog. But I will make you read it at some point. :P . You barely know me and have already helped me so much. By just being there when I needed company the most. By showing me Philly in a whole new light. By being the sweetest person ever to come and fix my laptop. By coming over and getting the perfect knee braces and medicines, By taking me to the emergency room and waiting there for me without a second thought. By buying me that sandwich from WAWA after we were done.By staying past your bedtime. And most importantly for giving me the time when you have so little time to spend with you know who. Just for being one of the most decent people I have met in my life. And also for not getting irritated with the number of "Sorry" that I keep on telling you.

To MMS for scolding the life out of me for going to Zumba lessons. I know you care and I love you.

To KB. You always make me laugh. And you actually thought of flying down from Florida. I mean seriously !!

And lastly to ASP and VP. I do not want to thank them. I just want to hug them and tell them that I am blessed that they are close to me when I am so far from my city. I am glad that ASP can actually bully me into coming over and pack and bundle me up to her house in an hour. And to ASP I just want to say "What would I have done if you did not scare me in 3rd grade ?"

My Experience in an Amreecan Village Part 3 : There is water in the kitchen.

Thursday morning I wake up an hour early than usual thanks to my roommate's "Aaaiyaa. C. Wake Up. WAKE UP !" As it is I am having a little trouble adjusting to all this day-light saving thing. My body does not know that 7 AM is now actually 8 AM.  That is another thing about this country. DSL. Sun goes down at 8 PM now. Crazy !! Anyways. Back to the topic at hand. I wake up to "Aaaiyaa. C. Wake Up. WAKE UP !"

I get out of my room rubbing my eyes and see that she is in one piece. A few hair out of place. But then she was sleeping. I was expecting atleast a few horrible cuts. Otherwise waking me up at 7:30 AM in the morning(which is technically 6:30 AM) is just cruel. I try to make sense of the situation and ask her as politely as I can manage " What the?? Are you ok?? Why were you screaming?" She points to the general direction of the Kitchen and says " There is water in the kitchen". At this point I am thinking "Ofcourse there is water in the kitchen. That is where we keep our Brita fliter jug." So I try again(politely) and this time I use the ever expressive "Huh ?" (which reflected my innermost feeling of concern that she might have lost her marbles). She points again towards the kitchen and tells me "Just go look.Please."

It is 7:30 AM in the morning(which is technically 6:30 AM)and I was not wearing my glasses and I was wearing my favourite fluffy pink socks. I step into the kitchen and immediately freeze. Out of shock yes. But also because I was ankle deep in freezing cold water. Inside the kitchen. I look at PNT (the roommate) and say "There is water in the kitchen." She replies "I know."

At this point we wake up our third roommate. PHS comes out. She is unusually calm as if finding freezing water in the kitchen is a regular affair! She tells me to call the maintainance emergency number.  Every thing she is telling me I only assimilate half of it. Because I am barely awake. I get rid of my pink fluffy socks and call the maintainance guy.

There is a knock on the door exactly after 15 minutes. I open the door and the 6 foot 6 inch Mike is standing there. He smiles and says "You girls have a situation at hand it seems." And then there is a mini invasion. A very efficient mini invasion. Mike and I dont know her name but let us call her Molly works efficiently. They know what to do. They don't want any help. And they clean everything. The entire kitchen. Including carpets.They actually secretly make me slightly grateful that our Kitchen was flooding

I could even get ready for work. It was only when me and PNK were leaving that I went over to Mike and asked him if he needed something because we were all leaving. He said "OK." Then it occured to him and he asked "Are you all leaving?" I said "Yes" He just said that he needed to leave the blower inside so that our place dries up and might come in later to move it to the hall. And then he smiled and said "Have a nice day girls"

The blower is still sitting in our hall. Because our hall is still wet. It is nice having it there actually. Standing and opening the keys of the door feels like a mini Bollywood movie. With your hair blowing and your skirt flowing.

Happy Holi 2015

Holi, the festival of colours. Spring to me, like most Indian begins with Holi. So Holi literally brings colour, not only in the form of "abir" and "rong" but in nature, our smiles, our feelings and our very lives

Last year I was at a friend of a friend's rooftop near Golpark. The previous night the four of us, PB1, KB and SB stayed over at 22. We ate chinese from Mandarin and PB1's special "Death By Chocolate Brownie" which was laced with something more than chocolate. ( READ LOVE). On the day of Holi, we got ourselves some colours, called over RB(KB's brother) begged him to be our driver and ended up in the friend of a friends rooftop. There was an open house(rooftop?) Holi Party. There was every possible arrangements that a Holi party might need. Food, bhaang, sweets and ofcourse colours. PB1 and SB refused to play colours but the rest of us went upstairs and proceeded to drench ourselves with colours, smearing each other's faces and then comparing who looks the most colourful(read unrecognizable). It was the first Holi I forced myself to celebrate after almost two years. The previous two years were not the best for me and I did not feel particularly celebratory. And I had an inkling that I will not be around for the next year.

And this year, my Holi was white and grey. It snowed here. So the weather and me are both a little glum. Everyone is hoping that this is the last snow of the season and soon there will be spring.While most people here are asking each other "When will Spring come ?" I am reminded of  that famous line by Gabbar Singh "Holi kab hai ? Kab hai Holi ?? "

Kolkata : Is it my city anymore?

There is not a second passed in this village that I do not think of Kolkata. To me Kolkata is a living, breathing, growing entity. A part of me. Kolkata is mine. It makes me feel at home. But is this city really mine anymore ?

Sitting at a late night diner on Sunday night I read two very upsetting news.

1. BBC took an interview of the Nirbhaya rapists. And they, without any sign of remorse states that it obviously always is the victims fault. I do not think I was surprised. The fact that I was not surprised was what bothered me. A lot of people's reaction I gauged was that of outrage as to why BBC even interviewed these creatures ( I do not find it in me to call these humans. ) To me the interview was necessary. It proves that monsters do not repent. And right now there are a million of men who are thinking the exact same thing. That it is infact the girls fault. Our country does not know how to protect their women. And it is true.

2.The second was much closer home. My cousin was harassed in the middle of Rashbehari Avenue at 10:30 on Sunday night. I am putting her exact words here.

" Ei sahar take nijer sahar bole bhabte khub lajja lagche ajke...Time raat 10:30 Rashbehari Avenue .... Saharer byasto tomo rasta gulir modhye ekta...
Metro theke neme wait korchi behalar gari pawar jonyo... Onyodiner tulanay janbahon kom seta hoy robibar bole noyto biyebarir season bole... Ekti Otyonto obhodro lok... Pichone theke eshe nongra katha o akar ingit korte laglo.... Bolai bahulya j tini prokitistho chilen naa..ei nongrami chollo pray 5 minute....chitkar kore protibaad korate ashe pasher kichu lok moja dekhlen thik e kintu ekjon o egiye elen na sahajya korte... Thik jani na era ki nitantoi ekta bicchinno ghatana... Naki etai ajkal swabhabik byapar...
Jaihok amar bhagya sahay j ami loktike tariye okkhoto obosthay bari firechi... Kintu sabar bhagya eto ta sahay na o hote pare...
Tomader sabbaike ghatanate jananor uddwesho .... Sabai sabdhan... Kolkata kintu khub unsafe hoye geche..."


After knowing about this my first reaction was anger. How dare the man ?

But then I remembered something an NRI Bengali man I met randomly at a movie theatre, of about 40 told me when I was whining about how much I miss my city and how much I want to go back.

He asked me with a smile. " Are you sure the city is yours ? A city where a female Chief Minister punishes by transferring a female Police Officer because the Police Officer went out of her way to catch the rapists of a shameful rape in the middle of the city is pretty much sending out a clear signal to the women of the city that they are not needed."

I could give him no good answer. Because no matter how much I try to defend my city the city has done nothing to protect her women. And right then, sitting at a diner seven seas away in a small sleepy town at 11:30 pm at night, I was feeling completely safe. Yes I had my friend with me. But the truth is even if i did not have my friend with me in there, I would have felt safe. I knew I could call a cab and that would pretty much ensure that I reach home safe. The cabs are constantly monitored by police radios. And there are police cars at the darkest nooks and alleyways patrolling. And at the same time even if my friend was there with me sitting at Hobby Centre in Park Street at 11:30 at night and I had to go back home in a cab, I would feel unsafe and nervous in my own city. Or maybe the city truly is not mine anymore.

My Experience in Amreecan Village Part 2 : McDonald's Our Food Your Question.

This particular experience belongs to not me directly but my oldest friend ASP and particularly her husband VP.

Last weekend I went to visit them in another Amreecan village by the name of Parsippany in New Jersey. Now VP has always been the biggest fan of McD back in Bangalore. When I would visit them in Bangalore, me and ASP would spend a considerable time charting  which restaurant to try out. VP would invariably suggest McD. It is best to mention here that VP is a Vegetarian but eats Eggs(I guess that makes him an Eggetarian) and the McEgg back in India was his favourite.

So now they are in NJ and the true patron that VP is he takes ASP to McD. ASP orders her standard burger and VP goes up to the pimply teenager taking the order and with a lot of anticipation asks " What are your vegetarian options? " The guy at the counter solemnly replies "Fries," VP tries to be a little more clear and says "Like to eat ?". The guy without any change of expression replies "Fries." VP tries one more time. "As in real food ?" The guy replied "Fries". And after thinking for a couple of minutes adds "And Coke."

At this point ASP suggests VP to take the burger without the meat. What comes are two burger buns with four pieces of fried onions in the middle. So I guess the question is "Where is the food ?"

And I have to add this photo of ASP and VP I took at the Dover Station when they came to see me off in the freeze rain. I adore it. Two people who are simply just made for each other.

SEASONS' GREETINGS with warm wishes from an Amreecan Village

Christmas and New Year's are definetely cumulatively, the biggest celebration in this part of the world. Everything is lit up brightly(because electricity obviously costs nothing) and there is this general cheerfulness around that makes even a cynical person such as myself smile at strangers.
This time around most people from my part of the village have not been very happy. They have been crying about the fact that it has been a warm winter and this has not been a White Christmas. I have had my managers, friends, roommates, acquaintances tell with great nostalgia and a smile hovering on their lips, as to how last year the winter was truly bad. Apparently it was the coldest winter recorded in Philly for over 20 years. I personally had a great time. I went over to Pittsburgh and West Virginia for Christmas. The giant Christmas tree and the street all lit up reminded me of Kolkata around Durga Pujo. The only thing is here most people are homebound during the festivities. They stay home, put on Christmas jammies, eat enormous amount of pies and spend it with family and friends. Back in India festivals are the time when you put on your newest outfit and take to roads for pandal hopping with family and friends. For New Years I took myself to Philadelphia. It was brilliant. Larger than life. And the fireworks from Penn's landing. I have to say that no matter how much I am still doubtful about the efficiency of this country in general, this country knows its fireworks. I have never seen anything like it ever in my life. It was spectacular. But even while shaking in my shoes at midnight and seeing everyone kiss all around me at 31st night I heard people complaining as to how warm this New Year's day is. I will be the first one to admit, I do not understand the hankering for below freezing temperature.
What I do understand now is the meaning of the age old greeting of "with warm wishes". Remember how we use to write it at the bottom of our New Year's Greetings card back in school. (I wonder if the kids still write it.) Growing up in a hot and humid city like Kolkata, I had always wondered why warm wishes. Why not with comfortable wishes? But then while waiting for my bus at the bus stop on 2nd Jan 2015, for an hour, and having cold literally penetrate my very bones, the meaning of warmth finally hit me.
So here is WARMLY wishing all 13 people(or less) who has ever read my blog, a fantastic 2015.