Showing posts with label #kolkatabookfair. Show all posts
Showing posts with label #kolkatabookfair. Show all posts

Sunday, August 13, 2017

He is a Bengali and translates Marathi literature


Here is the twenty eighth unforgettable character in my life …

There is hardly any Bengali who does not fancy himself as another poet worthy of recognition, he is no exception. A writer in his own right – he writes poetry as well as short stories and essays but has made a name for himself in translating works of Marathi authors. He has recently completed a work for the Sahitya Academy and, in his spare time, both in office and home, he writes and writes – it is a hobby for him. He subscribes to umpteen small magazines and has seen his name in print several hundred times. This passion of his brought us together – he was the architect of printing Bengali magazines from Nashik, first it was cyclostyled and later printed.
When we decided to print the magazine, we had to generate funds – getting ads was the best way because, once you were able to convince the opposite side, you got more than your money’s worth. I have written elsewhere about the way we would get the matter into computer language and get the magazines printed- I will not dwell on that again, but the struggle to get ads was something that took its toll – we forgot all about our domestic lives.
Throughout the whole week we would take it in turns to do the data entry and setting of the pages, and the Sundays were reserved for ad drives. The industrial area was a good twenty five kilometers away and, on Sunday mornings, we would leave the house after breakfast – his scooter was the means of propulsion. He would drive and together we would go from one company to another – we would meet with success but failures were more.
Still, thanks to his determination, we did manage to generate adequate funds for as many as eight quarterly issues. We would have tea and snacks on roadside eateries and never faced any ill effects. However, when he was detected as being a patient of diabetes, we had to control our outdoor activities. Gradually, we had to close the project.
He is now a retired man and lives with his writings, his racks are overcrowded with complimentary copies – he gets these in abundance rather than honorariums. He travels to various destinations to participate in annual get together of writers and of literary associations and societies. He has not received any great recognition but is happy to contribute his bit towards Bengali literature with his translations of Marathi literature.


Image courtesy wikimediacommons.org

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Clint Eastwood's upcoming film "The 15:17 to Paris"

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Two Americans gored by bulls in the San Fermin bull running festival

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Monday, July 17, 2017

He was a great help in the Kolkata Book Fair


Here is the twenty sixth unforgettable character in my life …

When we attended the Calcutta Book Fair for the first time in 1992, we had innumerable first-time experiences. The most memorable was the setting up of the stall. We had requested for the smallest space and were accordingly allotted a ten feet by ten feet area with tarpaulin roof. That was the normal practice – whoever rented the stalls had to get the decorations done by themselves.
Immediately we arrived at the venue to identify our location and take over the stall, we were besieged by hordes of people. They were decorators who wanted to take our contract. They explained their ideas and we listened and asked for rough financial estimates. In between, we rested in the makeshift tea stalls and pondered over the pros and cons. Our budget was literally a shoestring one. We had scraped together the minimum finance necessary to book the stalls and had vague estimates but the estimates of the field decorators floored us. It was at this point of time that the cousin of one of my partners came to our rescue.
He assured us that he would get the stall set up and would see that the expenses were kept to the barest minimum. He was experienced in such work because he had a couple of friends who built the local Saraswati puja pandals. They were in the know of things and, since the fair was being held during the Saraswati pujas, we heaved a sigh of relief. He arranged to shift bamboos and plywood to the venue and he and his team stayed up three nights to erect the structure.
When the fair doors were thrown open, ours was one of the stalls that was complete in all respects. He was our savior in the two subsequent years 1993 and 1995 that we participated in the Calcutta Book fair.


Image courtesy wikimediacommons.org

Jharkhand to become plastic free, ban on polybags less than 50 micron thick

Conflict between man and elephants on the rise in Odisha

Gurgaon to get environment friendly electric buses


He was a Chinese and his assistant was a Muslim

He was framed for a crime he did not commit

He was my first boss and be taught me the basics


Clint Eastwood's upcoming film "The 15:17 to Paris"

Work on superhero film "Deadpool 2" begins

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


Two Americans gored by bulls in the San Fermin bull running festival

At least 15 killed in shootout in Mexico between police and drug gangs

Suicide bomber kills at least 15 in Mosul

Friday, January 20, 2017

Didi visualizes industrial revival via nalen gur (satire)


The day had arrived and Didi was on tenterhooks.
She was in her cabin and, on the easel in front of her was a painting – it was a design for the cover of her latest book of poems which she would release in the Kolkata Book Fair.
But, her mind was elsewhere.
Will her vision of an industrial revival really become a reality? She was not one to venture out in search of willing investors – still, she had been to Singapore, to London to Italy and even to Berlin. She had invited everyone to come and, they have obliged.
It was now her turn to ensure that they invested in industries and help her erase the memories of driving out what would have been a major industry today.
Suddenly Moo Cool entered – he was excited.
‘Any good news?’ Didi asked.
‘One party from Germany is interested in importing nalen gur,’ Moo Cool said. ‘They want to use it for fishing.’
‘Fishing?’
‘Yes. They want to use it in their baits,’ he explained. ‘They feel the beautiful fragrance would attract more fish.’
‘But how much would they import?’ Didi asked.
‘Initially they’ll take back some samples with them. Once they return to Berlin, they’ll get them tested in their labs. If they are satisfied, they’ll negotiate terms.’
‘When can I get a feedback?’
‘If you want, I can make a trip to Berlin to hasten up the issue.’
‘That is an idea,’ Didi agreed but did not give Moo Cool any indication that she would release him. ‘I hope nalen gurer sandesh is there in the dessert?’
‘Of course,’ Moo Cool relied. ‘It is a product that is unique to us and we must explore all possible avenues to promote it and export it to foreign countries. By the way, one of my close relatives is experimenting to make cakes with nalen gur.’
‘That will be wonderful. Ask him to patent it. I have a feeling that nalen gur will be the answer to the revival of industries here.’ (to be contd …)


Image courtesy wikimediacommons.org

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US army veteran shoots dead five persons in Fort Lauderdale airport, Florida

Tuesday, May 10, 2016

Didi in a relaxed mood, plans for Book Fair (satire)


Didi had all of a sudden gone into hiding which was a bit strange because she likes to, always, be in the limelight. But, she had a hectic time for the last couple of weeks and was famished. Her doctors had ensured that the energy she had lost was recouped but, her voice had cheated her and she was forced to remain in the sidelines till her fiery voice regained its original level.
Abhi Shake had come to meet her and found Dee Wreck already at her side with his laptop. He was explaining to Didi his latest strategy. And, Didi was listening to his soft voice.
‘Yes Abhi,’ she looked at him and took a sip of her favorite ginger tea. It was a sure shot energy booster in winter but, even in humid summer, it was a welcome drink.
‘My boys want to meet you,’ Abhi said. ‘They have some useful tips that could help our cause.’
‘What sort of tips?’ Didi asked.
‘They want a clean-up contract,’ Abhi said.
‘Clean up? Why is everyone so intent on clean-up operations? What is there to clean up?’
‘The walls,’ Abhi muttered. ‘They want to clean up the defaced walls. Irrespective of which party has made the mess, my boys will remove every bit of wall writings and posters.’
‘Fine,’ Didi looked pleased. ‘Ask them to take photographs and preserve the writings. Some of them are real works of arts and, only Bengalis can create such masterpieces. We will compile them and sell them in the next Book Fair.’
‘Fantastic idea,’ Dee Wreck was all smiles. ‘We will append the translations and, I am sure the compilation would find a huge market.’
‘Let it be priced in dollars,’ Didi sad. ‘That way, we’ll get more money. A price tag of $50 would be chicken feed to foreigners but it would mean nearly Rs 3000 per book. And, that is quite an amount.’ (to be continued …)


Image courtesy wikimediacommons.org

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