It was not my Home

Being Aware and compassionate

You were right. The people here are poor and majority of them live a life which is poorer than the lower middle class. The living conditions of the people living in a small slum nearby the Airport are worse than what we saw in the Ghetto in Terezin. What we saw in OpenLucht Museum the conditions when the people in earlier times lived in the same place with the animals is luxury when compared to the people living in the slums.

I see things differently now. I realized that earlier I just closed my eyes assuming that certain things don't exist. The people here are as ignorant as I was before. The privileged continue to enjoy the privileges without a single thought about how better we can do things to help those who are less privileged.
I do not blame them. In this  society, survival is the only aim for one and all. People seem to run a race and they are so busy running that they often do not look around to see whats happening.

People are not compassionate towards each other and treat each other with mistrust. For example , standing in a crowded bus, I feel something touching my bag, my instant thought was the person behind me was up to some mischief of pick pocket. I looked around and saw a very skinny old man with big glasses and wrinkles all over his dark face struggling to stand straight. the very moment I was filled with shame and guilt of my thoughts. I know we cannot change everything around us, but at least we can be compassionate to one other around us. Be polite and make them feel good for that moment is what I learned from you.

Many people say we cannot survive being honest and polite. I used to but I do not believe in it anymore. I was standing in a queue for the auto rickshaw for long in the scorching sun along with 5 others. The moment the only Auto came, the people broke the queue and got in it before me. I could see that the people who did it were ashamed of their act and they choose to look away from me to hide their self guilt. It understand it is difficult to stand in the sun for more than 5 minutes and we were standing for about 15. May be they were in a hurry and they had more important appointments. I was not angry . But I am sure I would be very angry if it was one year ago.

Whenever I look around me now, I always think of you and try to imagine how you would do things differently. Living with you has changed me in a big way . I feel very lucky that I got the chance.
Parents pass their Legacy to children and I hope I have the strength to retain it.

PS: Biologisch food is not available. I really do not know how to bring awareness about it.

Jab....

Jab koi paraya des apna des lagne lagta hai...

Jab kahin paraye log apne log lagne lagte hain..

Jab kahin koi anjaan bhaasha samajhme aani lagti hai..

Jab kahin anjaan chehro ko dekhke aur darr nahin lagta...

Jab kahin ghar jane ka mann nahi karta...

Jab darwaza kholte ki wahi mitthi khushboo swagat karti hai..

Jab kabhi ghar ke samne wala ped mano tumse baat karne lagta hai...

Jab kabhi khidki pe chhoti si nili chiriya aake  shor machati hai..

Jab dosti ki paribhasha badalne lagti hai..

Jab sach bolne se aur darr nahi lagta...

Jab galtiyon ko maaf kiya jata hai...

Jab annkhein bhar aati hain ye sochke ki ye sab chhorke ekdin kahin aur jana padega....

Jab yahin meri zindagi ka wo na bhulane wala panna ban jayega....

Jab....

Holland Dairies - part 3 : Louis

Louis passed away just 2 weeks before his 54th birthday. He was one of the friends I made since I started living here, far from my friends and family. And though it was just the first meeting we sat in his garden, chatting for hours loosing the track of time and realised that it was late and almost 12'O clock at night only when we felt really cold. He was a free siul and a avid traveller. Every inch of his living room reflected his personality and the souvenirs placed all over proudly telling us the story of his travels. The book case filled with travel books and the small musical instruments kept on the rack above the piano

Holland Diaries- Part 2: Perceptions about Kolkata

I am very amazed by the instant reactions of people when I say I come from Kolkata. Kolkata has a global recognition which I never thought it had before I came here for the first time in 2011.

Grannie and most people here pronounce it as “kol-cuu-tta” which sounds very funny, to me atleast.

“Oh yes! Kol-cuu-tta! Lots of poor people!”

“Grannie, do you know Kolkata? Wow!”

“Yes I do my dear, Sister Teressa? She gave food to the poor”

 

Next is Louis, a man of about 50 and an avid traveller. He has been to India twice for holiday and has visited Ladakh, Rajasthan and Mumbai.

“Oh yes Kaul-ka-ttaa, a very old and big city isn’t it? Very crowded?”

“Yes it is, very crowded indeed when compared to Arnhem”

“I read a book called The city of Joy, are there still people living in Slums? The book mentioned about the honking of the public transport of the howrah bridge and had some beautiful descriptions but the author was moved by seeing the poverty around”

Now, I am really set back by this perception of my city of joy to the outside world. I think for a moment. Slums? Very poor people? Yes there are some slums near Sealdah, but not so significant that it could be used to describe the city.

“Well, I have been living in the city for the last 6years, but I don't think there are significant number of people who live in slums. And, I think as it is the largest city in the eastern part of the country, it has a constant inflow of migrants from Bihar and other neighbouring states in search for job, and sometimes they don't have a place to live yet.”

“Yes true, but for us especially, when we see, the poor people lying in the streets, our heart goes out”

I stumble for an answer. Why the hell did the author name the book as city of joy if he had only to write and exaggerate about the poor people. C’mon, I haven’t heard of anyone die of poverty in Kolkata.

 

On one Saturday while walking into the town with Helga, I happened to meet a group of her friends in a cafe. One of the women looked strange. She wore a orange cotton loose fitted kurta an orange skirt. Her grey hair parted in the middle and supposedly a thin braid till the waist. The moment they heard I was from Kolkata, the strange woman’s eyes gleamed. She said she was in Kolkata twice, her last visit being 14 years ago. She is a practicing Hindu and she had a Guru somewhere near Lake Gardens in Kolkata.

“ohh nice! Which places did u visit in Kolkata?”

“Very less, most of my stay I was either meditating or working for the NGO. Are there still so poor people in Kaul-cu-ttaa?”

I try my level best to defend my city of joy. And all through the Dutch conversations over the coffee I sit back and ponder over my thoughts. What caused these perceptions? Pffff…

 

Marco, a colleague, a man in his early thirties and he and his wife is expecting his first child in a couple of months.

“Oh Kol-katta..wow! a very big and old city.. As big as Holland I think?”

“Umm.. I think half of Holland?”

“Amazing, how many people live there?”

“Ohh.. I never thought of the count before but let me check……hmmm… interesting..wikipedia says 14 million!”

“wow!! Amazing!”

A positive reaction at last made me happy.

 

The next one is from Harold, my next door neighbor. May be late twenties, lives with his wife, has a very cute baby and a not so cute cat.

“Which place in India are you from?”

“errr..umm.. Kolkata?”

“oh yes! A big city! I had been to India in 2008 and travelled all through New Delhi, Varanasi, Shimla. But my friend said that there were some riots in Kolkata due to a woman who wrote some book.”

 

I have tried my level best to change the perception of the people I meet about Kolkata by my view of the rich culture, the history, the architecture and the people.

Surely Kolkata will receive a lot of guests in the coming years and it Kolkata will surely will not be called a big crowded city with poor people by them at least.

 

 

 

Holland Diaries- Part 1: Weather

You know you are in Holland when you hear people talking about the weather all the time. At first it may sound weird, and people may seem to be obsessed with weather checking the hourly forecast in the mobile apps every single day. But my perception changed right after the day when I started for work on a day which looked sunny, without an umbrella and was drenched while returning back. And on a cloudy day when you think it is really cold (according to Indians) and put on your warm clothes, you may sweat while walking on your way to work.

Weather literally changes every hour. I love my seat at work where I can look through large open windows from my seat. And the view is never the same. Just today at the clouded sky at 9AM turned into a sunny morning by 10 and had heavy showers by 12 and by 12:30 it’s sunny again! If it were not for the droplets of rain the glass window panels, you cannot tell it had rained 30minutes back by looking at the sparse clouds in the blue sky.

The reason is the geographical location of Holland. It’s near to the sea and the Arctic Circle with no Mountains barring the wind. The wind is real fast.

The clouds change patterns almost in the blink of the eye. They say that the Dutch skies have inspired a lot of painters in the past. The view of the summer sky is similar to the Autumn sky in Kolkata, with bright white clouds and clouds in different shades of grey in beautiful patterns making lovely contrast with the blue background. The only difference being that here in Holland, it changes a way too fast. And if you are in a lovely countryside, the lush green fields, make the frame really picturesque.

It took me almost a month to get to the habit of checking the hourly forecast of the weather each morning before starting for work or going out on weekends making a note of the velocity of wind each day. And as Grannie says, “never go out without your umbrella.”

The proverb : The Morning shows the Day is never true in Holland.

 

The Stupid Box...err...Screen....!!

Recently my father had watched a show in the Discovery Channel which showed how in Korea (north or south I do not remember) kids especially teens, addicted to mobile phones and the video games are becoming mentally ill. A guy in his twenties died after playing non-stop video game for about 50 hours.

And they too have a Rehab center where the parents send their kids to help them return to normal life.

Now, does that ring a bell on your head? No? Yes, it didn’t mine either while I sat in the couch checking my Facebook updates on my phone beside him watching the show. But the same was not the case with him. After that day he has been intimidating any kid/teenager, usually my nephews and cousins by offering them some piece of advice or the other on the disadvantages of the mobile addiction. Previously I used to get away easily on the long hours on my laptop as my parents thought I was  working from home but not now. My father checks on me every 30 mins asking me to rest my eyes. And the arguments like “I am reading the news headlines on the mobile” doesn’t work anymore.

“You know in Korea….”, he would start while I had to cut him short by saying “Yes yes Dad, I watched it too but I am no kid anymore.”

Just like my parents kept an eye on me to check me from watching too much of TV, I think it’s  high time now to put a check on the excessive television and the content  they are watching. I think it would also be a good Idea to show a senior citizen disclaimer before some shows.

Few weeks ago  all of us were going out on a dinner and we were late. We were in a hurry and my father was locking the front door when he saw that the main door of the neighbor was half open and also the elevator collapsible gate was not closed properly. He stood there staring at the half open door and putting on his deducing hat while I kept reminding him the time. We had a new family moved into a vacant flat a day before and we had not had our introduction yet.

“Don’t you watch Crime Patrol”, he hissed, “they tell us to be alert at the end of each show!”. 

“Daddy, they must have just forgot to close the door!”,I sounded Irritated.

“Hushh..” And he started peeking into their flat!

My mother had unlocked our door by now and is searching something from the Diary kept beside the telephone. I was literally embarrassed and watch the whole thing jaws dropped.

My father knocks on the neighbors door and the Son of the family (who may b in his early twenties) comes out after taking longer time than usual wiping the beads of water droplets in from his face in a hand towel. I could sense his confusion looking into may fathers panicked expression by then.

“Ummm… Errrr.. I … Actually I saw your door half open.. And you know its better to be alert…and also we have not had our introduction So..”, my father is surely searching for words. My boy smiled re-assuringly and told that everything was OK and agreed that it had been careless of him as he returned from his class in a hurry. I was very embarrassed and rolled my eyes on my father and went inside our flat to see what my mother was up to.

"What are you doing Mom?”

“I had noted down the number and m not getting it now.”

“Whose number?”

“The Crime Patrol people…it was...”

“What!! ”

Just then my father entered after having our formal introduction with our neighbors and said “Its all fine….the kid…. He left the door open in a hurry…. Nice boy…”

“Shall we go now.. we are already late..”, I interrupted.

All through the dinner the topic of discussion was the crimes happening all around even in places we think that are very safe while I ate my food silently.

P.S.: I love them anyway.... :) :)