Saturday, July 8, 2017

He was framed for a crime he did not commit


Here is the twenty fourth unforgettable character in my life …

We have seen in Bollywood movies of how sincere and honest men are victimized by bad elements and punished for a crime he did not commit and I have seen it happen in real life.
The gentleman was a soft spoken man, an officer in our organization. He was jovial by nature and his only vice was drinks but, he remained within his limits and did not be a cause of anxiety for his family. His family consisted of a son and two daughters and the younger of the daughters was more of a tom-boy. At a time when girls were more accustomed to ride on the pillion rather than be in the driver’s seat, she would zoom around on a motor bike dressed in jeans and jacket, her hair flying in the wind.
The elder daughter was a docile creature and the son loved everything rough and tough.
Anyway, this friend of mine was sincere in his work and hardworking and was due for promotion but had many competitors. In those days, getting a promotion involved a bit of luck because the number of aspirants was invariably more than the number that could be accommodated.
But, in his case, what happened was downright evil and whoever dreamt up the plan must have felt sorry at the way things turned out in the end, he must have repented but that cannot wish away the sad events.
In those days, the entry and exit gate for officers was separate and the security never checked their bags. But, on this day, my friend was stopped at the gate and the security guards searched his bag. They discovered some material that belonged to the company- in other words, he was stealing company property.
Normally, the bags of officers are not searched but, in this case, it was. Obviously, it was a plant and the security was informed to check his bag. Out went his promotion and disciplinary action was initiated against him but, it was too much for him to digest. He suffered a heart stroke, was hospitalized and passed away. When I think about him, I wonder how people can stoop so low to victimize others for their own selfish needs.


Image courtesy wikimediacommons.org

New nesting sites for crocodiles in Gahirmatha Wildlife Sanctuary

Patna-Delhi Rajdhani Express to get a new look

Goa expects a flood of tourists


The teacher who taught me Bengali

He taught me to ride a scooter

He was one of the wittiest persons I have ever met


'Spider-Man: Homecoming' brings back the teenage crime fighter

Adele calls a halt to her tour, London will be her final stop

Christopher Nolan's Dunkirk set for release in India in July


Six Afghanistan policemen killed in Taliban attack

Cable car kills seven tourists in Gulmarg

More than 150 killed in explosion of oil tanker in Pakistan

Thursday, July 6, 2017

He was my first boss and be taught me the basics


Here is the twenty third unforgettable character in my life …

When I joined in Nashik as a first line supervisor in the aircraft manufacturing factory, my first boss was a Bangalorean. He was the departmental head and had risen from the ranks and did not possess any degree but had loads of wisdom. I learnt some of the basics of management from him directly and some more by observing him, his actions and reactions.
He taught me to lead by example. He had an old Fiat car and would park it in the parking lot and walk down to the hangar. In winter, he would be dressed in his coat, muffler and gloves and, once in the hangar, he would climb up the stairs, go to his room, remove the coast, muffler and gloves stand on the balcony. Then he would start to roll up his sleeves and begin to climb down the stairs.
His message was clear – dress should not create any obstruction to do one’s work.
Another thing he taught me was to ask questions. There were nearly 300 staff under him and they included technicians. They worked in eight different sections and I was in charge of one section. My boss would come to my section and suddenly enquire about the whereabouts of one of my men. The first time he asked me, I shot off a standard reply – ‘he had gone to the toilet.’ He nodded and waited for the man to return. Then he asked him where he had been. The man replied that he had gone to the tool crib to get a drill bit. I was embarrassed but my boss looked at me, smiled and said – ‘always ask questions. Even if you know the answer, ask.’
Then there was his most important message of how to handle others. It was my first job and most of the men who worked under me were of my age. There were a few Bengalis and, during the tea break we would our sip our tea together and exchange pleasantries. We would even share a smoke. One day, my boss called me aside and said – ‘Ghose, people are a source of fire. If you go too close, you will get burnt. If you stay too far way, you will not enjoy the warmth. Therefore, you must know just how much distance you should maintain.’


Image courtesy wikimediacommons.org

New nesting sites for crocodiles in Gahirmatha Wildlife Sanctuary

Patna-Delhi Rajdhani Express to get a new look

Goa expects a flood of tourists


The teacher who taught me Bengali

He taught me to ride a scooter

He was one of the wittiest persons I have ever met


'Spider-Man: Homecoming' brings back the teenage crime fighter

Adele calls a halt to her tour, London will be her final stop

Christopher Nolan's Dunkirk set for release in India in July


Six Afghanistan policemen killed in Taliban attack

Cable car kills seven tourists in Gulmarg

More than 150 killed in explosion of oil tanker in Pakistan

Tuesday, July 4, 2017

He laughed his way through life


Here is the twenty second unforgettable character in my life …

They made a typical pair – he was fair skinned, like a European, she was on the slim side. Both were Bengalis settled far away from Bengal – they were from the land of the Taj Mahal. Her father owned a Hotel and his father was in the Air force. And – he always had a ready smile on his face.
When we first met, their son was a toddler. Although my friend had a permanent job, his wife wanted to keep herself occupied and joined the local school as a teacher in the KG section. Within a short span of time, she made a name for herself and had a large following. She loved the attention and enjoyed it. In the meantime, their son joined the same school and, as he progressed from one class to the next, he kept on showing his brilliance. The parents basked in the glory of their son.
Normally, the son is identified as the prodigy of his parents, here it was just the opposite – the parents were known as the parents of so-and-so, the top scorer of the school. He was able to get admission to the medical branch with ease. There also, he continued to top score and, soon after completion of the course, he moved over to England for acquiring more qualifications and for gaining more knowledge and experience. His parents got him married off to a girl from Kolkata. Simultaneously, they purchased a plot of land in a good locality where their son could set up his hospital or nursing home.
That was a long time ago. The boy has now returned to India and stays in Kolkata – he is attached to one of the leading hospitals in the city. My friend and his wife have also shifted over to Kolkata and are enjoying a happy retired life.


Image courtesy wikimediacommons.org

New nesting sites for crocodiles in Gahirmatha Wildlife Sanctuary

Patna-Delhi Rajdhani Express to get a new look

Goa expects a flood of tourists


The teacher who taught me Bengali

He taught me to ride a scooter

He was one of the wittiest persons I have ever met


'Spider-Man: Homecoming' brings back the teenage crime fighter

Adele calls a halt to her tour, London will be her final stop

Christopher Nolan's Dunkirk set for release in India in July


Six Afghanistan policemen killed in Taliban attack

Cable car kills seven tourists in Gulmarg

More than 150 killed in explosion of oil tanker in Pakistan

Saturday, July 1, 2017

He was the first critic of my Bengali stories


Here is the twenty second unforgettable character in my life …

As I have mentioned earlier, I began to write stories in Bengali. It was a tedious process and a story had to be written and rewritten a number of times to make it presentable to the Editor. I used up sheafs of papers in the process before the final product came out.
I stayed in Nashik and my editors were in Kolkata so I would send my story by post and wait for the complimentary copy to arrive by post. Once it arrived, I would read it, then my wife and then I would take it to my critic.
Criticism helps one to improve. This is true in all walks of life. He was a severe critic of my writings. On Sundays, I would go over to his quarter with my new writings and hand them to him; he would return the manuscripts that I had left with him on the previous occasion. Then, over a cup of tea, he would begin his criticism – I had to clear his doubts; in the bargain, I learnt about the deficiencies in my writings. Occasionally he would add his own thoughts, those were useful and I would weave them into the final piece.
He had two daughters. They were sweet little things bubbling with energy. The elder was a bit on the quiet side while the younger was always busy in her activities including NCC. The parents had high hopes for them. They had even purchased a bungalow knowing fully well that one day they would have to occupy it all by themselves because the daughters would leave them for their in-laws. However, they were not ready for the way things turned out.
The elder one had got a job of sorts after completing her course in computers – she decided to marry one of her colleagues. He was a Punjabi. This came as a shock to my friend and his wife – they were staunch Brahmins! But the girl was adamant –finally, she had her way. It was difficult for my friend to reconcile to this; still he accepted the situation bravely. His wife even went to the extent of dressing in Punjabi style and joining in the bhangra dance.
Then their second daughter decided to tie the knot with a boy from Andhra.
Both the daughters are happily settled in their respective places –the elder in Delhi, the younger one in Bangalore. They have children of their own and my friend visits them regularly in between going to Kolkata and coming back to Nashik. He is now in his late seventies and I met him and his wife recently – they still retain plenty of the old world charms!


Image courtesy wikimediacommons.org

East Coast Railway to run 186 special trains during Rath Yatra

Tax on the 326-year-old Jagannathpur Mela waived

Pollution in Subarnarekha river a matter of concern


He loved model planes and aero modeling

He practices homeopathy with a smile

My friends who used to sell saris


The Big Sick is Anupam Kher’s 500th film

Suicide Squad 2 - the sequel - to start shooting in 2018

Shooting started in Paris for Tom Cruise starrer 'Mission Impossible 6'


900 migrants rescued off the coast of Libya by coast guards

Death toll in the London Tower fire rises to 30, could go up to 100

ISIS carries out its first attack on Iran - at least 12 dead

Thursday, June 29, 2017

The teacher who taught me Bengali


Here is the twenty first unforgettable character in my life …

This pertains to my schooldays in the period of the late 1950s – 1958 to 1959 to be more precise. I studied in a school run by the Christian Brothers. While most of the teachers were of the Christian Brothers fraternity in their long white uniforms running up to their feet, there were a few exceptions. There was a portly German lady who taught us music, there was another who was in-charge of games and PT, there were the office staff and then there was the induction of three gentlemen in the form of teachers of Bengali and Hindi.
The beauty was that the two Hindi teachers came to school dressed in sherwani and dhoti while the Bengali teacher came in kurta (punjabi) and dhoti unlike other teachers who dressed in European clothes.
The Bengali syllabus had started when we were in the last stages of school – we had the option of selecting either the lower or the higher levels. Attempting the higher level straightway was problematic and risky because we did not know even the basics. So, the Bengalis in the class opted for the easier lower level.
However, our teacher had other ideas. He had seen Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose first hand having been a part of his Indian National Army; hence he convinced us that being Bengalis, we should be loyal and patriotic enough to learn our mother tongue. Our parents were aghast – if, by chance we did not secure pass marks, it would ruin our future. The teacher convinced them as well. And – thus it came to pass that we toiled with him and within a short span of time our confidence grew – we were able to take dictation, compose complex sentences, write letters etcetera in Bengali to his satisfaction. One fine day, he invited us to his house. It was a single room affair behind Science College – he was a bachelor, cooked his own meals and loved to talk about his experiences with Netaji.
Needless to say that all of us Bengalis cleared the exams successfully – there were five or six of us in the class. Once out of school, I maintained contact with my teacher for some time but then, as normally happens, we lost touch. The best part is that, when I went to college, I decided to prove to myself that I could write in Bengali as well as others. And – my first Bengali story, a crime story, was published in 1967. Many others followed and I became a regular contributor to a number of magazines.


Image courtesy wikimediacommons.org

East Coast Railway to run 186 special trains during Rath Yatra

Tax on the 326-year-old Jagannathpur Mela waived

Pollution in Subarnarekha river a matter of concern


He loved model planes and aero modeling

He practices homeopathy with a smile

My friends who used to sell saris


The Big Sick is Anupam Kher’s 500th film

Suicide Squad 2 - the sequel - to start shooting in 2018

Shooting started in Paris for Tom Cruise starrer 'Mission Impossible 6'


900 migrants rescued off the coast of Libya by coast guards

Death toll in the London Tower fire rises to 30, could go up to 100

ISIS carries out its first attack on Iran - at least 12 dead

He taught me to ride a scooter


Here is the twentieth unforgettable character in my life …

He and I lost our fathers at about the same time. It was a great loss to both of us and, somehow, that sad incident brought us together. It was in his house that I learnt the game of auction bridge – his brother-in-law initiated us into the game. We would spend the evenings learning the tricks of dropping the queen or of squeezing the opponent while our better halves shared the results of experimentations in the kitchen. It was, therefore, natural that on the occasion of next Mahalaya, my friend and I decided to do tarpan (remembering our ancestors) on the banks of the Godavari together.
We went on his scooter immediately after the end of the early morning radio program because we had to be back to attend our duties. I had never driven a scooter before and, on the way back, I expressed a desire to learn it since I wanted to own a two wheeler. He agreed and the following Sunday, he taught me the basics – how to kick start the engine, how to use the clutch-gear combination, how to accelerate, how to brake.
It so happened that he suddenly got a chance to shift jobs. He had always longed for a job in Kolkata because he had two daughters and wanted to bring them up in traditional Bengali style. He was in two minds while his wife was determined not to let the opportunity slip away. I sided with his wife because I knew that in his heart of hearts, he also wanted to go there. One fine day, we bid him adieu.
He settled in his new environment, got his daughters admitted to prestigious schools and later to reputable colleges. He even constructed his house and found the work suitable to his style and temperament. He got promotions regularly and, when I went to Kolkata, I visited him. He was happy. It was fate that snatched away his elder daughter. She was knocked down by a bus as she was crossing the road with her college friends.
My friend did not allow the incident to pull him down. It is not easy to come to terms with the loss of a grown up daughter. He overcame the loss, superannuated and has taken up consultancy work that keeps him busy. His younger daughter is married and my friend and his wife have started a new life. Whenever we go to Kolkata, we visit him and talk about the good old days. His wife is a great cook and loves to dish out delicious preparations.


Image courtesy wikimediacommons.org

East Coast Railway to run 186 special trains during Rath Yatra

Tax on the 326-year-old Jagannathpur Mela waived

Pollution in Subarnarekha river a matter of concern


He loved model planes and aero modeling

He practices homeopathy with a smile

My friends who used to sell saris


The Big Sick is Anupam Kher’s 500th film

Suicide Squad 2 - the sequel - to start shooting in 2018

Shooting started in Paris for Tom Cruise starrer 'Mission Impossible 6'


900 migrants rescued off the coast of Libya by coast guards

Death toll in the London Tower fire rises to 30, could go up to 100

ISIS carries out its first attack on Iran - at least 12 dead

Wednesday, June 28, 2017

He was one of the wittiest persons I have ever met


Here is the nineteenth unforgettable character in my life …

He was extremely careful of how he spent each paisa because, to him, each paisa saved added to your confidence to tackle the world. Before shifting over to the township, he stayed in rented accommodation outside. When he received the allotment of the quarter, he transferred his belongings by using the shift buses – one evening he brought the two plastic chairs, next day, the mattresses, followed by the bedroll, suitcases of clothes and on the last day, the steel cot.
It was a long drawn out process spread over the whole week but he completed the exercise without spending any money on transportation charges.
At that time he was newly married – subsequently, his parents came over to stay with him because he was their only son. He, in turn fathered two sons. He had the gift of the gab, wit came to him spontaneously and he had a wonderful bank of knowledge pertaining to Hindu customs, Gods and Goddesses. He was the heart of any party because he could make people break into peals of laughter by his play upon words. In addition, being a Brahmin, he was an indispensable part of all Bengali religious rituals and enjoyed the attention. The family was an exceptional one.
I remember an occasion when he borrowed Rs 20 from me in the hospital. Both of us had retired and would go to the hospital for our monthly medical checkup and medicines. That month he was in need of the money because the girl at the medicine billing counter did not have the necessary change. So, my friend borrowed the money from me to pay her and when we met next month, the first thing he did was to return the money to me.
Both his sons were good students and, in due course, completed their Engineering degrees. He married off his elder son who was employed in Mumbai – therefore, the son and daughter-in-law shifted over to Mumbai. Every alternate weekend he would come over to visit his parents. However, one Friday he did not turn up. He had met with a fatal accident on the railway tracks on his way home.
The younger son specialized in Metallurgy, got married and is now settled in Hyderabad. But, my friend lost his life to a cardiac arrest. He used to be the life of any gathering and we miss his company and his ability to crack jokes at the drop of a hat. It is a gift that very few people have.


Image courtesy wikimediacommons.org

East Coast Railway to run 186 special trains during Rath Yatra

Tax on the 326-year-old Jagannathpur Mela waived

Pollution in Subarnarekha river a matter of concern


He loved model planes and aero modeling

He practices homeopathy with a smile

My friends who used to sell saris


The Big Sick is Anupam Kher’s 500th film

Suicide Squad 2 - the sequel - to start shooting in 2018

Shooting started in Paris for Tom Cruise starrer 'Mission Impossible 6'


900 migrants rescued off the coast of Libya by coast guards

Death toll in the London Tower fire rises to 30, could go up to 100

ISIS carries out its first attack on Iran - at least 12 dead