Ladies Last

CM is a very simple girl or perhaps a woman who happens to be a consultant. CM has worked 5.5 years in the same project 4 years in India and 1.5 years from the client location. CM has worked very hard and shown her merit and has gotten good reviews and ratings 4 out of those 5.5 years including her very last appraisal.

Incidentally CM is the only one belonging to the XX chromosomes gene pool and works with 12 other people who are XY chromosomes.

This incident is one particular incident that happened one particular day but is quite indicative of the kind of behaviour CM, and I am sure most other women have to constantly face at work.


So on this day a very senior lead from CM's India office visits CM's client location. A meeting is obviously arranged. Most meetings like this are CM's nightmare. So the senior lead walks in to the meeting room. Let us call him GD. He sits down and he says, "This is the third team I am meeting and this is the thing with every team. 1 ' LADIES' and rest 'GENTLEMEN'. Is this your plan? But there is no gender bias here and so no Ladies First Business here. "

Everyone around the table laughs a little. CM forces resemblance of a smile.

The meeting continues with expression of gratitude but also the dire times ahead. How the (human)resources have worked hard but ofcourse need to work harder. How they should expand their horizon and no not go travelling, but find new problems in the client architecture so that they can make the clients realize how inadequate they are and then give the client the solutions themselves like the great Houdini and let them know how indispensable CM's team specifically and her company in general are. Ofcourse it ends with the future prospects of CM's company and the new projects that they have acquired. The two recent large projects acquired by CM's company are two luxury brands. One related to Women's beauty product and the other is a well know designer brand for handbags. And GD concludes with "We should find this exciting specially the Ladies right?" He looks at CM and smiles. Now CM has learnt to keep her mouth shut in situations like this. Except CM's expressions gets the better of her sometimes. To CM it obviously does not matter if her company has acquired the project of a client who sells overpriced (and overhyped) handbags or a client who sells toilet cleaners as long as it means that her company gets revenues and profits which percolates down to her. Just one sentence escapes CM's lips. "Ofcourse. Since they will be giving us LADIES free stuff."

Everyone in the room starts laughing. CM wonders if they are laughing at the sarcasm or they think that is actually funny.

Kalki - Salute

No one says it better than her

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JF0_dGYeSEk

Belated Happy New Year 2016

It is another new year. People all over the globe have celebrated absolutely nothing changing. It is not like the refugee crisis will  eradicate, or the giant chemical/automobile/oil corporations of the world will start investing more money in solving global warming. Last year it was Lahore,Paris, Baghdad, and this year it was Pathankot,Turkey, Kenya. The ISIS-s and the Boka Harems and the Pakistan militants. and the Maobadis they will all exist just like the head of nations and all of us, the normal regular people, be sacrificed as collateral damage.

A world where children are slaughtered in the name of religion, women are raped, mutilated, burned without any hesitation for sport, where men are killed because of what he eats, needs to change. There needs to be an upheaval. Every single one of us, the normal collateral expendables, need to stand against injustice and speak up, for each other and for ourselves. We cannot keep on hiding anymore behind fear, behind societal diktats. And when that change happens, when we can truly identify ourselves as decent human beings that is when we should celebrate.

Chutzpah

I have met women in my life, some of them are in my family who choose to be the victim. They choose to be beaten, abused, ill-treated, and walked all over and they glorify their lives because they had to  go through or are still going through all this. They turn themselves into some sort of sacrificing martyr. These women scare me.

And then ever so rarely you come across stories of extraordinary deed by ordinary women such as Shabnam Ramasamy. These people in Shabnam'w word hold life by its collar, push it to the wall and say ‘you live according to me and not me according to you!’

 SALUTE !!

TAXI DRIVER

• NAME :. P.N ROY
• AGE : 27
• PROFESSION : TAXI DRIVER
• LOCATION : Cab ride from Deshapriya Park to Tollygaunge
• ETHNICITY : U.P. 

Vote is over and Narendra Modi has been appointed our Hon'ble Prime Minister. Politics and vote fever seem to have died down from the papers but it is still quite fresh in my memory. Apart from the meetings and the morchas and the verbal fights on t.v. and every other vote centre the heated debates, one feature that marked this year votes for me is the acute lack of public transport. As it is the cab drivers in Kolkata derive some sort of a sarcastic pleasure in refusing passengers. And just before the vote even the few cabs which would have considered not refusing seemed to be all booked for vote duty.

One such harrowing hot and humid May late evening I got down at DeshaPriya Park hoping to catch an auto and could not find anything. I saw this cab coming towards me and although it had "ON VOTE DUTY" written on the front shield I hailed. I was tired and desperate. He told me he will only go if I am going towards Ranikuthi. I climbed in gratefully. For some reason he took a liking to me and started talking.

He is originally from U.P. and like million others heard that Kolkata would give him an opportunity to survive and came over to try his luck about 4 months back. He did not have a choice other than leaving U.P. because he fell in love with a girl there he was not supposed to and if he did not flee he would have been dead. As soon as he got this assignment of driving one of his boss's three cabs his cab got stamped for vote duty. So every morning at around 6 he has to go down to some government official's house in Alipore and has to mandatorily stay there till 6 PM. This particular official hardly ever gets out of the house. The cab is instead used by the wife and the teenage daughter as their personal car. The routine is that around noon everyday the wife and daughter goes out somewhere or the other and comes back home after 8 PM. That however does not mean that he can report late or he is getting paid more than his promised stripend. He was telling me that he knows that he is just starting and that he can barely afford his meals but at the end of the day he knows that he does his job well.I actually asked him why do you guys keep on refusing passengers.And he said that he never does. Only when he is really tired. He knows that other cab drivers do and he thinks no better of them than the government official to whom he is working for now. He made that very clear in quite expletive terms, because these cabbies give honest cab drivers like him a bad name, or that is what he feels.

It was a little difficult understanding his heavily accented Hindi, but it was nice and friendly contrary to most other cab rides where I always stay on the guard and keep a finger on speed dial.

After paying him and before getting down, I asked him if I could take his picture and told him I will share it on the internet. He was taken aback, but he was still talkative and then asked if he would become famous. I told him, I hardly think so.

And then I asked him what happened to the girl ? The one he was in love with. For the first time he went quiet and said "I hope to God, she killed herself." Then he drove away.

Basantika

Today is Poila Boisakh. The auspicious beginning of new year and the end of Bosonto.

I am not sure why I am writing this down today as this incident happened atleast a couple of weeks back. It happened in the middle of Bosanto. But it stayed with me.

My cousin RJ is a singer. She was performing in Deshapriyo Park as part of an annual concert "Basantika" arranged by her school of music. This was just a week after Holi. The weather was perfect with a cool breeze flowing. I made myself commfortable on the carpet with my mother and my aunt. There were all these lovely young(at heart definitely) men and women from the age of  4 to 60 dressed in the colours of Spring sitting around me with bright coloured Abir smeared quite artistically on their cheeks. There were dance recitals and songs and poetry recitals. There were artists painting large canvases with the hues of yellow and orange and red and green. There was this ambiance and energy of creativity and appreciation and everyone was enthralled, engrossed and enamoured by it.

And there were this group of girls between the age of 4 to 6. All dressed up in saris and jewelleries with flowers in their hair. They were playing among themselves, throwing flowers at each other(something very Shantiniketan about it) and then suddenly I noticed two street kids among them. The younger one was about three and the older one, perhaps four. At first they sat at quite a distance and  looked at the group of girls playing rathar tentatively. Then the younger one took a handful of flowers and threw at the nearest girl. The girl  threw it back at the child and slowly but steadily the two kids became a part of the group. Playing with them, laughing with them and enjoying with them. Then came the food packets. I actually instinctively found myself concentrating more on the kids than on the concert from that moment on. The little girls actually even shared their food with them. Like buddies. Eating from the same packet. I must admit. In my adult mind I was cringing thinking perhaps this is not the most hygenic thing to do. The little girls did not care or bother. As far as they were concerned they had made two new friends and they were sharing. And then suddenly a group of slightly older girls around the age of 10 to 12 came with their food packets. The older girls dissaproved of the situation visibly. One of the older girls gave the two kids a packet and a bottle of water and showed them the way out. I am sure that this is what is considered an act of kindness. But there was also this sense of demarcation in that act of kindness. Like the girls were in some sort of a higher position to feel sorry or pity for the two kids. They could show kindness to them but not consider them at par. Perhaps not even consider them human. The  way those little girls were behaving was much more humane, much more real. They were fighting about who gets the piece of cake like they would with friends, with equals.

I wonder when this sense that we are better, that we are privileged creeps inside us ? When does it become them and us? When do they cease to become perhaps even people ?

With the sun setting, sitting in the middle of this beautiful, cultural ambiance, I could not shake away the melancholy from my soul. Because I have myself grown up. I can never do what those little girls did.

Social Etiquette No 42 : You must offer your seat to the elderly.

See the image above ? See how happy and grateful the nice smiling elderly person looks ? See how happy and content the girl looks?

You must offer your seat to the elderly.

So this little line have been hammered into my head from when I was like about 14 and started going to school by myself in public transport by my school teachers, parents and above all the black board with bright white letters inside every 24-29 tram.

So, last Friday in an overcrowded V9 bus, I noticed this elderly(atleast I thought she was) woman struggling quite hard to hold on to the unreachable handles and stand. She kept on constantly tripping and falling. True to my ingrained good behaviour I generously(atleast I thought I was being generous) got up from my confortable seat and offered it to her. What followed was rathar unexpected. Instead of accepting the seat she visibly got upset and asked  " Why are you giving ME your seat ? There are lots of people standing around. You did not get up for any of them ." I scratched my head rathar adorably(atleast I think it was) and replied "Because I have always been told to offer me seat to the elderly." At this point she got furious and then using (in what can pollitely be described as) rathar strong words asked me how old I thought she was. I wanted to reply 72 but I realized it is best to  keep shut and take my seat again. She continued with, the attitude problem of today's college going generation and how to them anybody and everybody who is out of college comes under the category of elderly.

I could not bring myself to tell her that I am sadly not a college going student, nowhere even close. Sitting in my comfortable seat, I witnessed the image of the happy, smiling cuddly elderly woman thanking me gratefully and offering me hajmola(atleast that is what I think all women over the age of 55 carry in their bag) shatter into tiny little pieces.

Just to maintain parity(atleast that is what most  Software Engineers or people with OCD do)
NAME : Not known
AGE : How old do you think I am?
LOCATION : V9 bus
ETHNICITY : She was talking in Bangla but with a strong underlying accent. I suspect Gujrati.
ATTIRE : Red and Purple Salwar Suit, MangalSutra, Purple LipStick( atleast these are the things I noticed)

Look at me.

Kalki Kochlin, I am honestly a fan. And no this has nothing to do with her acting. Here is a person who thinks like me and so many of us in today's India and not afraid to voice it out loud. She goes above and beyond just advertising about washing machines and lipsticks. And I wish they show this little piece throughout all television channels instead of some one telling me I am worth a packet of hair color product.


I salute you Kalki. Standing Ovation from me.

http://www.storypick.com/unbelievable-performance-kalki-koechlin-feels-like-woman/

The Master, The Mistress and The Bachelor of Arts.

Disclaimer : I did record all of their voices, but when I came back and replayed the recording it was all gibberish. So this entire post is from memory. 

Location :  A very well known silver shop in Hoggs Market(popularly known as New Market).

It is a Saturday afternoon. This tiny shop is very busy as usual and brimming with customers. I was here a week back and had wanted this particular piece of earring which they were  nice enough to bring. Me, KB and SB as usual are also checking out 75 other different things. This shop has an array of breathtaking pieces of jewellery and every time I come here I keep on wishing if only I could afford to buy every piece they have. I am pretty sure I will not even mind the duplicates. But this Saturday I had another agenda. I wanted to feature them in my blog.

NAME : Vashi
AGE : 60
ETHNICITY : Sindhi

From the first day itself I like this vital middle-aged man. He always has a friendly smile and is quick but genuine with his compliments. He reminiscences about his grandfather who came and settled in Kolkata from Sindh Punjab post India partition. The shop he tells me was established in  1962. This shop was also his father's baby. He used to be an accountant in a reputed Engineering office and did not initially have much interest in the shop. Now he is nurturing his father's dreams by taking forth the tradition. He also mentions that his son (who is his constant companion) is very interested and he is happy to transfer the responsibility to his capable hands.
He talks about the Kolkata of the 60's and the people then and the people now and how the customer's profile have changed throughout all these years.
He asks me jokingly about the Prince Charming in my life with a twinkle in his eye.
He is one of those very few people who know how to live their life to the fullest and be happy and makes others smile around him.

NAME : Rupa
AGE : 56
ETHNICITY : Sindhi

Rupa just like her brother has an easy smile and a friendly attitude. But at the same time it is easy to figure our her deep perceptive inner core.Talking with her reveals more and I wanted to talk with her more. It felt like she believes in the same philosopy of life as me. Also she is one of the very few people who guessed my age correctly. She is a professor and she is single. She lives by herself. I asked her if she has any pets and she told me she does not. She said she is happiest with herself. She talked about how losing her elder brother suddenly made her seek solace in meditation and spirituality. She has this aura of calm reassurance and she imparts it to everyone around her.

NAME :  Vinayak
AGE : 23
ETHNICITY : Sindhi

The cutest looking boy with a shy yet charming demeanor enticing with his lovely pretty fares. He feels like the life of the shop. He is passionate about this shop and it shows. He even designs some of the jewellery himself. His father calls onto him for every minute details and he seems to know all those minute details. He is calm and collected and seems to be everywhere at the same time. The only time I noticed he looked a little uncomfortable was when he had to bargain with two older ladies. But he was polite and firm with them at the same time. It was highly admirable. He is also the solver of all problems silver. All you need to do is present him with the problem and he will definitely resolve it. He also likes dancing and was sweet enough to invite three of us to his concert.

For me personally it feels great just being in the shop and talking with them and looking at all the pretty things. They never force you to buy. They never stop you from trying. The never tire from showing you whatever you want to see. And they do it with a warm and friendly smile.


Actual Address: Asian Arts , F61 New Market. Kolkata - 700067.

Fairer Sex

• NAME : Not known

• AGE : Between 25 to 35

• LOCATION : V9 Bus

• GENDER : Male (XY chromosome)

• ETHNICITY : Probably North Indian

CONTEXT : I got a call from work while I was hanging on to an almost unreachable handhold in the middle of the bus. My TL who is also a species of the XX Chromosome wanted to discuss about the progress of my SSL implementation in WPS 8.5 server. It was supposed to be a fresh installation. [For all the non-techie people I apologize profusely]. Hearing me talk over the phone a not so bad looking guy appreciatively looks at me and the following conversation happens. 

XY : You're the first person of the fairer sex that I've heard talking about LDAP and SSL.

Me : That seems unlikely. There are lots of women in the profession.

XY :  You are probably aware of it because you are somehow related to technology or aware of it. Let alone women, I doubt if most men care about websites with SSL and make payment with credit cards . It is surprising to find a woman who knows and talk about it with so much confidence.

Me (I got one of my crazy thoughts which I just said out loud) : "Fairer Sex". I wonder why this term was coined ? Is it for the colour of the skin of the general XX chromosomes. (Seems unlikely and frankly biased). Perhaps it is because of the judgement capability of majority of the XX chromosomes species. 

XY : I really don't know or care why the term 'fairer sex' was coined. I just find it that sounds better than calling someone 'female' - that's just rude.

Me (I felt that he was trying to be nice but that answer "slightly" rubbed me the wrong way) : Why is it assumed that more men will know about SSL and women wont ? Why is calling someone 'female' rude? Is calling someone 'male' rude ? Why is 'BE LIKE A MAN' a positive advice ? And simultaneously 'YOU ARE BEING SUCH A WOMAN' is always perceived in the derogatory sense? 

XY : I don't know and frankly I don't care to comment on why certain things are generally acceptable in society and others aren't. Maybe you should take it up for your next doctoral thesis. 

Me : Tell me what do you do care about ? Leaving your seat for a woman or the elderly is also generally acceptable in society and infact considered commendable.Never seen you caring about that either.  


After this conversation it was obviously not prudent to ask him if I could take a picture.

But every step of the way I am amazed as to how derogatory comments about women are ingrained in our society. 

Also this apparently is the reason why I will be single for the rest of eternity. Because even when a guy is trying to make conversation with me I find things such as this(read Kolkata is full of sexist "male") and turn off like 1990 Kolkata electricity supply. 

IF ONLY

The short film, in French and directed by Éléonore Pourriat, shows a father taking his kid to kindergarten and going through the rest of his day facing catcalls, sexist remarks, sexual assault, and contempt.

Social Experiment 3 on the Ferry

Hey that rhymes !!

Me and KB boarded the normal ferry from BabuGhat which goes to Shibpur last Friday. We wanted to enjoy the Ganga, and this very unique ride.

We climbed up on the deck and there were mostly men on the deck and one other Muslim woman in a borkha.

Suddenly the helper on the boat tell us that ladies must go down and points to this hell hole underneath which is dark and dinghy and gets no air or sunshine. We first said no nicely and then I added that if I go inside I will definitely get motion sickness. Then most of the other guys joined him and kept on telling us that we have to go inside. First their logic was that we will  fall off board. Since we have XX chromosomes instead of XY we will obviously somehow manage to hurl ourselves over the railing accidentally. Then when we refused to move and also steadfastly was not paying them any attention the driver started honking the horn. As per him we were blocking his view. There were atleast 50 other men on that deck and we were the only two blocking the view. I guess it could be because we have breasts and that can be distracting. Then a random guy who was not even on the boat told us that we must go inside. We refused again and asked him to give us one good reason. He said if he has to give us one reason then it would go on forever. This was the rule. I then told him to show me the rule book. At that the men finally realizing that we were not going to give in said if we were so confident then we should stand at the lower deck, which did not even have any railing. At this point ofcourse no one was concerned about the fact that we might fall over. Infact it felt like they wanted us to slip and fall over. Just then a really old lady with her granddaughter came on board and she had to face the same harassment from everyone.They wanted even the old lady to climb down the steep stairs. I am so proud that she silently refused and continued to sit on the lower deck.

When the boat landed KB was one of the first people to jump off. I was about to follow when I realized that the men were trampling over the old lady. She was protesting feebly saying " Why everyone was pushing her." The men actually replied that she deserved it since she chose to sit up on the deck. I gave her my hand to hold onto and heard one of the men say to me "Why can't you get off the boat now if you are so confident ?" None of the men came to help the old woman down. At this point I shouted for KB and asked her to come help the old woman. Some other men who were not on the boat suddenly realized that a girl is summoning another girl for help. Their chivalry suddenly being awaken, they helped the old lady down.

This particular incident felt a bit like a social class thing but more that we belong to the female species thing. I guess the fact that we were of the female species, and perhaps a little higher up in the class ladder than them and refused to travel like livestock was reason enough to incite a boat full of men.

Since we are women it is again our fault ! How dare we challenge their male chauvinistic rule and refuse to travel in a dark airless hole ? How dare could we even want to enjoy the river and the breeze ? How dare we choose to stand their amidst the studly group of men? How dare we help another women ? And worse how dare we did not end up falling into the river ?

Sometimes I wonder what would they say if one day our Hon' Chief Minister decides to take the ferry. She happens to be the most powerful person in our State. But then our Hon' Chief Minister is a SHE. Will they demand that even she travels in that hole ? Because that happens to be the unsaid unwritten made up  rule ?

And just a reminder, the river happens to be a SHE herself. And she did help me from not wanting to punch the faces of all those people on board.

Social Experiment 2 with Me

Disclaimer : Contains strong language and worse, strong opinions by a woman !

It was New Year's Eve. I went to Kurry Klub with KB and SB for an early dinner.

This is what I was wearing
1. A red sweater.
2. A black and red skirt.
3. Black Stockings.
4. Red Wedges.
5. Kajal on my eyes and no makeup.

We were done by 9 p.m. and then we stopped at the Shop opposite HDFC ATM on Sarat Bose Road. We wanted to buy chocolates, water and Diet Coke. KB and SB were discussing something in rapt attention. As I was buying the things, a group of respectable looking boys/men came behind me. Initially I paid them no attention, but then my sixth sense told me that they were too close for comfort.

Suddenly, I was greeted with the compliment "Wah kya boobies hai !" followed by "Nice Ass."  At this point I tried to catch the attention of my friends but they were a little away and probably could not hear me. I told the shop keeper to hurry up. This seemed to somehow instigate the group. They continued " What's the hurry ? Some one's waiting for you ?" Then a second guy added. "Give her 500. She will wait for you then." Obviously this was the greatest joke of 2013 because it cracked all the boys up. To add to the jocular mood the first guy added "She might need a 1000. Can't you see her skirt is expensive ?"

What can I say  except  "It's my fault !" It was New Year's eve and how dare I thought that I could enjoy a nice dinner with my friends? How could I even dare to think it was alright for me to want to look pretty and wear a skirt? I should have known men have eyes. And, since men also have mouths and no control, it was only natural that they would compliment me !

Remember that scene from Rowdy Rathore where Akshay Kumar pinches Sonakshi Sinha's waist? When Sonakshi Sinha asks him why he did that, he explains saying that he did try to control but his hand had a mind of its own , therefore he was not to blame . Just his hands. It was Sonakshi Sinha in a sari and her waist that forced him to do it. And ofcourse Sonakshi Sinha enjoys being harassed since he is the hero of the movie. So how can we blame the men of this country for saying things or grazing past a girl's breast or pinching their butt or raping and brutally murdering them? They don't want to do it. It is just their impulse.

And as Kalki Kochlin says it, at the end of it all, " It is my fault ! " Because I am a woman.

Social Experiment1 with PB1

As part of this Social Experiment, I also decided to incorporate another social experiment. The general behaviour of the XY chromosomes towards the XX chromosomes in this city. Maybe I should have given the heading as Sub Social Experiment. Hmm !!

Anyways my friend PB1 (the rocking sport that she is) agreed to be my accomplice on this one or rather the main instrument to get this experiment rolling.

This is her and this was her attire for the day.
1. A pair of washed dark blue denims.
2. A grey tank top.
3. An orange hoodie.
4. Brown Wedges.
5. Pink dewy lipstick and eyeliner.

She is smart, sassy, gorgeous, independent and she can walk that walk where it feels that the busy crowded roads of Kolkata are infact her private runway podium. 

So she walked ahead and me and SB walked behind her. (Thank you SB for saying the things that you did say on that walk to all those men !)

We walked from Spanish Cafe, Sudder Street to Park Hotel. We crossed 63 men ranging from the age of 12 to 62, covering all social strata and out of them only 12 did not stare at her breasts. Nowhere else. Just at her breasts. Like deers in front of headlights. A few of them stared rather disapprovingly as to why a woman is wearing clothes of her choice and showing more than expected chest area. As to why she has not used a stole or or a muffler to suffocate herself but in the process sticking to good-old tradition by preventing these men from having to acknowledge the fact that women have breasts. Most of them stared like they have never seen anything like it before with open lust in their eyes. Some of them actually did double takes. One guy while holding his very cute girlfriend's hand did a double take. They were not looks of appreciation. All of them were staring as if she is a piece of meat that they need to taste(Pardon the language !).

P.S. -  I want to give a disclaimer here. This incident just happened. It was not planned really. After noticing the pattern with men and the general direction they were looking I brought it to PB1 and SB's attention. That is when I decided to write this in the blog and asked for PB1's permission. She ofcourse readily agreed.  

Rajshree

• NAME : Rajshree
• AGE : 26
• PROFESSION : Corporate Employee
• ETHNICITY : Bengali
• LOCATION : V9 Bus from Tollygaunge to Bengal Unitech Part.

This really pretty girl dressed completely in black was sitting calmly in a bus putting dark red nail polish on with so much grace, composure and poise that I could not stop staring at her. She was completely concentrated on painting her nails. I gathered up all my courage and sacrificing my relatively comfortable standing point, I approached her. I asked her if I could take her picture. She nodded yes without even looking up from painting her nails. I took her picture and waited for her to finish. I would have loved to record her voice but the radio in the bus was blaring at the highest possible volume. Here are snippets of our conversation.

Me : Do you do this often ? Like paint nails in the bus.

Girl : Yes. I do spend an awful lot of time on these buses.

Me : How long ?

Girl: Atleast 3 hours each day, one and a half hours for each trip to office. Sometimes I wish I had a car. I could do more personal things while traveling to office.

ME : Tell me something that you like or not like about these bus journeys ?

Girl : Well these A.C. buses are fancy but they do not have reserved seats for the handicapped or the senior citizens. And it is very difficult to stand in these buses since they move so fast. I have noticed that no one gets up to offer their seats to the elderly anymore. But I do. I don't know why ? Just do,

At this point the bus applied the brakes a bit too forcibly and I realized that it prudent now to hold on to something instead of  breaking pretty girls's and my neck by falling on them face flat, while talking with them.

MEERA G

• NAME : Meera Ghosh
• AGE : 80
• PROFESSION : Homemaker all her life
• ETHNICITY : Bengali
• PLACE : Lake Gardens 

She was alone and was crossing the road and the way she slowly, calmly but firmly crossed the road caught my attention. I am one of those people who never know when to cross the road and end up running the last few steps.

I approached her and said my stereotypical, tentative "Hi". She replied back with a very smart "Hi". So I explained to her what I was trying to do. And she told me that she does something quite similar. She writes down notes about people she meets or encounters or even reads about and then mails them to her son in Delhi. I asked her if she goes out every morning and she replied yes for morning walk cum day to day shopping. She appeared very strong and independent for a woman of 80. I then asked her to say something which might be trivial but had an impact on her. She got a faraway look in her eyes and then asked me if I would like to come to her home. I readily agreed because it would mean I could record her voice too. Once in her house she told me about a dog she named Mamata. 

This was an incident that had happened a long time back when she used to live in Salkia. She was standing on the roof of her house when she saw two dogs approaching around 6 PM. One of them was visibly very sick and the other one seemed to be guarding it. The ailing dog came and fell asleep in front of her door.  At around 8 PM she got up on the roof again. She saw that the other dog had gotten some food for the dying dog and was trying to nuzzle the dying dog into eating. The dying dog had no energy and did not eat. Seeing this Meera went down again. At around 10:30 PM she heard a loud wailing noise from the other dog. She went up and saw that the dying dog was still lying there and the other dog was keeping it guard. The next morning the municipality people came and removed the dead dog from their doorstep. They told her that the dog probably had died around 10:30 PM the previous night. After that the other dog whom Meera named Mamata left as well never to be seen again.

I am uploading the story in Meera's voice. It is in Bangla.


At the end of the interview, I was thanking her profusely since she happened to be the first person who talked with me. Not only that , she even invited me to her home . She thanked me back instead.