Tryst

Santanu Sahu

I take opportunity to use this platform to share my tryst with S. Devi Madam. I recollect the incident of Class-VIII when we appeared the half-yearly in RCE premises but result sheets were shown in the School premises. Some of you might recollect we were allotted a room in the middle portion probably over Biology Lab.

Madam distributed the Exam sheets. Everybody was busy going through the results with mutual discussion in a loud voice. My score was 61. But in one question relating to samasa conflict arise on the right answer. The question was what is the samasa for Bhimakanta. Many wrote Bhima O Kanta i.e., Dwanda Samasa. But Madam finally announced it is Je Bhima se Kanta i.e., Karmadharaya Samasa.

The interesting part I remember was that, I got marks for my wrong answer. But Nanu saw that. He did not get marks for writing the same answer. He promptly complained to madam. Madam immediately shouted, where is that answer. Of course Nanu kept quiet without further uttering my name or pointing at me. But Madam again searched that paper. I gave up after some more shouts. She promptly reduced one mark. That was the end of one part. What was still interesting is, with a gloomy face I went through my sheets. After adding up, it came 60.5. Immediately, I rushed to Madam for correction of my total. She looked at me and uttered, “are ebe mark katithili na” and gave a smile. I do not exactly remember if the mark was revised, but I still remember that moment of reconciliation between Madam and me.

Let her soul rest in peace.

A PERSPECTIVE ON FANATICISM

Mick(Mrigank) Das 

The battle between Absolutism and Relativism in the modern world has put us in a conflicted state where Fanaticism has prevailed instead. Fanaticism is typically (and perhaps rightfully) associated by the mainstream populace as having a nexus with major religions and an extreme and deranged form of Absolutism. Dogmatic faith and the zealous assumption that only the faith that one is embroiled in should be unquestionably accepted by others or they ought to be the object of punitive measures has left the world in a sad and vulnerable state to the acts of terror, that seem to be coming at a much more frenetic pace chronologically. The counter to Fanaticism is Relativism - where we just pander to a middle of the road position of accommodation and aversion to any top-down axiomatic principles of moral philosophy and faith.
 Relativism encourages the discarding of mainstream religion deeming it as a ultra-conservative right wing position that strips away an individual's prerogative to be the moral arbiter of their own lives and the lives of those around them and also their intellectual ability to philosophize the overall approach to the passage of life. However Relativism does allow for moral depravity - whether it is in music, culture, the predominance of stimulants, the relaxation of the rules of marriage and promiscuous behavior. This angers the opposite side that favors Absolutism which looks at trends in sexual orientation, drug use and permissive social norms (among others) as signs of the decadence of society arising from the liberalism that follows hand in glove with Relativism. The result is an incessant and increasingly turbulent edge of friction from which is borne fanaticism, radical behavior and the sinister and chilling birth of terror which is perceived by Absolutionists as the only way to redress the balance that they deem to be intolerable and a bane to their ability to subjugate or coerce compliance of their particular form of religion on their family and community.
 However Absolutism doesn't have an universally harmonizing principle so far - as evidenced by the tension between the world's major religions. Do we have a good answer yet? No. However it seems like if there is a non-atheistic universal harmonizing principle that favors the cause of Absolutism it cannot be something that professes acts of terror as the means of redressal. Neither is it a fire-and-brimstone or excoriating approach that uses barbaric means to cultivate adherents - that seems to be the antithesis of a harmonizing principle that ought to be aligned around the discovery of transcendence in a non-permanent passage of life, that frequently asks us to deal with affliction.  It has to be a non-peurile, stabilizing, substantive harmonizing principle based on logic and scientific reasoning. It has to teach us that there is something in us that death cannot touch, that has an eternal quality and has a journey that aligns it with some universal power that loves and cares for us. The chicken-and-egg problem is if there exists such an harmonizing principle, driving someone from a position of adversary to adherent requires sometimes an approach that may not be very pleasant, palatable and warm and comfy at first. The key for a discerning individual is to recognize the true north of a harmonizing principle as different from fanaticism even as the bonafide preachers for both may compete for your attention in a rather similar manner.

Limericks

Siddharth Padhi

I see u

The Optometrist asked me,

How do you do?

To save time I said,

"SDLPVROU"

He said it's fine,

You are 6/9,

Just pay me before I bill you.

Tense pay(sh)ense 

I have a cantankerous patient named Hense,

Who is at times a bit dense,

He gets on my nerves,

More than I deserve,

By muddling my senses with nonsense.

Flight season 

The Admissions Season.

When your children are looking to fly the nest, 

When you are intent on giving them your best,

Let them flee,

With freedom and glee,

And give our poor souls a rest.

Khaki and Maroon

Sushant Paikray

The best part of meeting my khaki pant and maroon skirt friends:

• The hug was tight and warm enough to let me feel they missed me
• The smile was bright enough to let me know I made a difference
• We drank as if we forgot to finish it the previous evening
• No one made me feel inferior or superior
• The handshake was firm enough to let me know, someone will always be there

Though the khaki pants and maroon skirts are gone, the bond still exists. The bliss was visible though the sad part was to say goodbye with a promise to meet again.

Marriage of (whose) convenience?

Rita Sinha

On a cloudy day under a tree at Dalhousie, a leg less physically challenged beggar man, was severely beating up his wife. The wife was calmly sitting near him and accepting all his bashes. She was sitting........!!..?.. Had she stood up high on her strong legs, she would have been saved from the bashes. But she was sitting, to help her husband hold her hair tight and hit her cheeks hard because the husband has no legs to stand and cannot reach up to her height.

Standing helplessly, I was wondering what keeps her going like this. Is she a dumb? A numb? Or is this Eternal LOVE?! Oh God!!! I saw tears rolling down her cheek, I saw her tremble in fear and pain.

By this time, I was little inattentive, to look for a taxi. All of a sudden, I heard a loud outburst of cry. Turned back to see... ?! No. The woman did not hit back her husband. She only pulled and tore off the colourful glass beaded neck piece which her husband was wearing, with all her force to express her anger, her pain, stored in her heart. The beads, got scattered all over and kept on rolling down the footpath with tinkling sounds. I could see the woman’s anger in the rolling beads like a silent volcano.

By this time, there was a heavy downpour of rain when I got into the taxi and was conversing with the taxi driver. Within a blink, I saw the same woman carrying her husband on her shoulder and the husband, confidently and comfortably sitting on her back as she was crossing the main road amidst the dense traffic. It was such a wonder to see. This man hits the woman, who is his only ''Vaahan'". She is his bread earner. Without her, his life doesn’t move on an inch! Waaaha... re... Waaha....’Patidev’!!

As they were passing by, my eyes kept tracing them as far as my sight could go. But they gradually got faded into the crowd. Throughout the way, back to my quarters, I was wondering, maybe the life of millions of women keeps on silently rolling and rolling like the colourful glass beads which they again and again bind together in one string.

I had witnessed the incident on 8^th March, back home after celebrating International Women's Day at RBI Kolkata.               

HOW TO HANDLE A SCRINCH

Siddharth Shankar Padhi

In simple terms, a Scrinch is a strain, sprain, stress or any equivalent term used to refer to any injury to soft tissue as a result or consequence of sudden/inappropriate movement. Injuries from impacts are not included in this category. How you handle a scrinch, especially on the first day will determine the speed of recovery. 

Some days back, while bending forward to tie my shoelace, I scrinched my lower back in one sudden, unexpected instant. One moment I was la-de-dah about the great outdoors and the next, absolutely still, with nothing but my back in the front of my mind. 

When I think of it now, I feel it was waiting to happen for quite a while. I had not been exercising of late and ye olde muscles had been steadily fattening up on the rich food and lazy lifestyle. I could sense an increasing degree of lethargy and insincerity in them, even with moderate workloads. It was cause for concern, for these things could be early signs of mutiny,  but the Central Vigilance Unit from the Grey Matters Dept of the Upper Chamber were in a holiday mood and neglected the warnings.

So, when I crossed one leg across the other and leaned forward to tie the shoelace, I inadvertently isolated a particularly lazy group of myocytes by this action and yanked them out of their bed. There was immediate protest. I heard something go 'snap'. It was a squelchy, stringy, muted kind of snap that arises out of soft tissue being torn apart by alien critters feeding on human flesh in some B grade horror-sci-fic production. The myocytes started creating a ruckus, yelling and screaming and causing intense local pain in the process. Others quickly joined in and took up the cause, as willingly as the Bengali Babu, who, while hurrying to office, spots a small gathering of three people protesting against the government for building the airport near their home and offers to shout their slogans for them while they put up their posters on the nearby wall. The commotion spread slowly, but surely, outwards like a mutinous tide and pretty soon, all routes to and from the place started jamming up. The Tubes (Arteries) started constricting and impeding adequate passage of the myriad traffic. The angry mob took to the streets through their individual by-lanes, further clogging them up. As the by-lanes opened, plasma, that soupy medium through which all the cells move, started leaking out and congealing the neighborhood in a slow-motion tsunami. It caught those myocytes in the area, who were hitherto unaware of the disruptions around them, in the middle of their routine activities and threw their peace of mind out of gear. Naturally, they ganged up and grabbed their banners on the way out. Pretty soon the district authorities were in a frenzy and put on the sirens and switched on the heaters (whenever there is disruption in peace and tranquility, law and order, heaters are switched on to disperse the unruly crowd. These heaters glow red). Everything comes to a standstill till law and order returns.

Movement was painful, to say the least. This was no ordinary pain to trifle with. It was sharp and piercing when I bent forward, stretching and tearing when leaned backward and a complaining ache on either side. Twisting was like someone pulling a cistern chain dangling from the brain. As I sat perfectly still, wondering what to do, I recalled a dozen examples of people lying in bed as a consequence of sudden back scrinches, none of them particularly heartening.

These are the typical signs of an inflammation. Whenever, wherever there is damage to tissue in any form, the reaction of the tissue up to the time of complete healing is controlled by this process. There are five elements of an inflammation: Rubor - Redness, Calor - Increase on temperature, Dolor - Pain, Tumour - Swelling and Functio laesa - Loss of function. The Romans couldn't find one word for it, so we also couldn't. Redness is caused by an excess flow of blood to the area. This happens only in the initial stage, when the rowdies are still within their work area. It's the police rushing in. Blood brings in a rise in temperature and a host of defensive chemicals are secreted by the cop-cells or corpuscles. All these activities activate the nerve pathways and they start sending pain messages to the Dept of Pain in the Brain. The Dept of Pain issues orders on nature and severity of the pain (that The Body will perceive and suffer from) only after referring the matter to the Dept of Tolerance, which has a significant say on the final degree of pain before it is dispatched to the Dept of Perception, which may or may not send a Directive to the Dept of Sound to produce a noise, as appropriate to the Recommendation of the Dept of Tolerance mentioned before. With a lot of plasma pouring out of the leakages in the Transit Tubes or arteries, the healthy tissue areas are permeated and the entire area swells up and becomes tender to touch or pressure, as also any movement. The common refrain is - "Let status quo prevail." As a result, there is loss of function - same as when factory workers go on strike.

The obvious thing to do was to assess the extent of damage, so I froze until the pain subsided. Slowly, I assisted the already hoisted lower limb to it's appropriate position on terra firma and despatched two sets of fingers to examine and report back on the back. The report would read something like this: alignment of bones (vertebrae)- normal, protrusions/ gaps - nil, tenderness - moderate, localised but not distinctly at one place, nature of pain - as arising out of superficial soft tissue, movement - painful but bearable if gradual. By saying 'gradual', I mean the average speed of an aging snail. Inference- localised muscle tear/pull but spinal alignment - OK. In other words, a Grade II Scrinch of the lower back at the level L5-S1. Further experiments on studying the characteristics of the pain while cautiously shifting positions confirmed the exact site and nature of damage.

Low back aches of sudden onset are the commonest of scrinches followed by those of the upper back, (tennis) elbow, knee and shoulder joint. Most are caused by sudden, dis-coordinated movement resulting in over-stretching of muscle fibres (upper back, calf) or ligaments (knees, ankles) or sometimes, both (lower back). A few are caused by lack of movement; over-stretching tissue over a prolonged period of time - like a hand used overnight as a pillow produces a swollen, tender elbow for a couple of days.

I got up and walked around a few experimental steps. It was not as bad as I had dreaded. My father had had a bad back and was prone to such painful episodes, which he would pragmatically term as 'inconveniences' and lie down still, sometimes for days, until it healed. But, that was an unexpected proposition as I had serious business to attend to before going for my daily toil to earn bread and butter (he was a govt employee with leave privileges while I am a paid-by-the-hour guy). So, I just went ahead and did what I was supposed to do, which started with an hour of loitering around on uneven land in the sun, supervising a boundary wall construction and then sitting for five-and-a-half hours (with a half-hour break in between) attending to patients who had no idea that they were with a very patient patient, who was grinning and bearing it. The entire lower back bunched up into one amalgamated, indistinct, stiff mass of pain. Walking around helped. The tablet I had taken after lunch was somewhere inside me, doing nothing. Getting in and out of my car was an exercise of contortions (of body and face) in slow-motion.

Back at home, I was subjected to standard procedures. I was asked to lie still on my tummy while a vile smelling gel was liberally applied and massaged in. The heating pad was next and I was subjected to a slow roasting while contemplating the vagaries that make up the complicated process of living. Pretty soon the old spirit of rebellion made its presence felt and I was back on my feet. After that, it was normalcy with the exception that no position sitting or standing, erect or slouching was comfortable for very long and all my effort went in trying to maintain a neutral position for the affected group of muscles.

Inflammatory signs typically peak in 72 hours and then subside. In my case, it started abating in 48 hours. Three things must have attributed to this early recovery- keeping the injured muscles relaxed as far as possible, no prolonged immobility and further heating. All the poor chaps wanted was a few days sick leave and I was willing to grant them that. 
It would come at the cost of overworking a few others, but they were a well-fed, healthy lot and needed the occasional exercise. The heating seemed to be a bad idea. When you target an area that is several layers of cell down, you have to raise the surface temperature to a much higher degree to achieve any satisfactory diffusion of heat to the desired level. In that process, you manage to overheat healthy cells and create more morbidity. It's has the same effect on people standing close to huge speakers when you decide to entertain a group of people 50 meters away. There was also a problem with lying down for long. Barring the fact that people have by and large forfeited the luxury of a few days rest, by way of their complicated existential liabilities, no single position can ensure equal rest to adjacent groups of injured as well as healthy muscle tissue. That may be accepted as a fact.

So, here's a brief summary on dos and don'ts in handling scrinches. 

Prevention: 
1. Limber up in the mornings. Avoid deliberate bending or stretching without a cardio workout first. RBCs are the supply trucks that get oxygen to the tissues. Get them moving. Everybody cheats unless you supervise their activities.
2. The time period from and up to an hour after your bath is a vulnerable period for muscles. They are about as disciplined as a bunch of kids in a swimming pool. Take care to avoid sudden and stretching movements.
3. After exercise, cool down as naturally as possible. Losing heat quickly stiffens muscles and slows them down. If you are resting between activities, do not allow complacency to set in, something I realised during my Himalayan trek. (The locals rarely sit down to rest).
4. Electrolyte replenishment helps when you sweat a lot. But, everyone knows that these days and many end up in osmotic diarrhoea after overdoing this.

Management: 
1. On occurence, keep still until you have yourself assessed the extent of damage and are sure of your moves. If asking for help, explain what you want to be done without ambiguity.
2. Any injury involving bones and joints are not to be self-managed.
3. Local application of gels and liniments helps as long as it is not rubbed in with pathological vigour.
4. Heat application must be limited to a peak surface temperature not exceeding 45*C. After that the superficial cells start suffering from heat fatigue and lose efficiency.
5. For the next three days the three foremost considerations should be comfortable posture, painless posture and a change of posture if the first two are not achieved.
6. Laga helps.

Note: There is no term as 'scrinch', but a scrinch by any other name is still a scrinch.

God, Godliness, Religion, Responsibility and Choice

Rajesh Srivastava

God is associated with 'Godliness'. There itself, God of which particular religion (as conventionally and quite unfortunately misunderstood) becomes insignificant.

Godliness is the Key. Godliness is whatever adds to or is sustaining the Happiness of this World. It's akin to Beauty in the Truest sense like when we say "make the World a better place to live". All beautiful things -- lovely songs, smiles, friendship, acts of goodness, parenting -- go in there.

Therefore, claiming to be 'religious' without practicing Godliness is faking around, hypocritical and strictly speaking 'irreligious'.

A word about 'Dharm' and 'Karm'.
'Dharm' is actually " Laws of the Cosmos" in line with e=mc2.
'Karm' is a person's deeds -- good or bad in the perspective of Godliness as described above.
These are not to be mistaken for Hindu religion words, as commonly misunderstood.
They are Fundamental and Universal like Science and Maths.

Why have I explained all this?
Just to tell a simple straightforward fact:
Good deeds are good and
Bad deeds, bad. Bad deeds are Crime and the doer a CRIMINAL. No confusion. No justification. Period.

Our Responsibility:
Again, it's not only Good Deed and bad deed. Other than Su-karma and Ku- karma, there's one more --- 'A-karma' !! Beware of this !!
This is a silent killer!
By Not acting against Ku-karma which is Ungodly, we all fall prey and fail in our Duties to add/ sustain the Beauty. It is considered as bad as Ku-karma. It's like silently observing something wrong taking place and remaining quiet.

WHILE FOLLOWING GODLINESS, IT IS ALSO INCUMBENT UPON US, EVEN MORE SO FOR THE SAKE OF OUR CHILDREN'S FUTURE, THAT WE STAMP OUT CRIMINALS FORCEFULLY WITH ALL OUR WHEREWITHAL AND MIGHT

Essentially, there's just good Deed and bad Deed. Good Deed adds to the Beauty of the Universe and bad deeds just the opposite.

It is in the very nature of Existence (Kayanat) and Human Beings, nature's Supreme Creation, to love and share Goodness.
Friends, also note - another interesting thing:

'Religion' and 'Mazhab' aren't the true synonyms of 'Dharm'!
The former are simply 'a way of practice or faith, customs' while the latter is 'Laws of the Cosmos' (not conventional Hinduism)
All this I have written for you/ all to introspect "what real Value Addition/ Contribution/ Goodness" each of these so-called Religious Sects have brought in, given to the world. And then Choose! 😊

We are one

Sankalpa Basu

There, I have your attention. What better way to start a post in a school blog. I have no reason to write about us in the singular as we are several, not very many maybe, but definitely more than one. We would like to believe that we are united, but I in my heart I know that we are merely a set of individuals who have passed through a time hole called DMS 83 and now yearn to go back through the same time hole, back to the future.

There, I think I have lost your attention already. But wait, I have something I wanted to tell you, I just couldn’t remember it in time. It is all coming back to me now. Yeah.. I wanted to share with you my obsession with fat.

I have been troubled with which I respectfully call as high BMI. I am not unique in having this trouble, it seems to be quite a popular concern, almost as serious as a bad MIL. A life time of indulgence has led me to accumulate. I have managed to turn some of the finest feasts into lipids. Poor me.

I envy those of you who don’t have my problem, but believe me the road to obesity was paved with delights, I have been singularly lucky to be born in this day and age, where people have a greater chance of dying from the effects of overeating than from the effects of starvation. I admit there are still an immense number of people dying from starvation, some of them in our own country, but there is a place and time for such serious discussions. Modern technology has allowed me to have ice-cream every day and not only when I could amass 50 paisa, I can have popcorn every time I watch a movie, that is, If I am not having nachos. I also keep some chocolates in my desk, just because I can.

We are not one, I am fat and you are thin, admit it gives you satisfaction to think how much slimmer you are than me, and you will have taken the first step towards honesty. And honesty my friends is the best policy.   

My friend Geeta

Geeta,  

I don't exactly remember my first conversation with you.  We met as 10 year old's in class V.  Can't even recall when the friendship grew to the extent that we could feel each other presence even after leaving school in 1985.  It was only 8 years of my life with you that made a life time of memory!!

Time went by and after 1985, we ended up in different college then started on the journey of our own lives.  Didn't really stayed in touch that much.  But whenever I took a trip down the memory lane a warm and giggling feeling would fill up my heart thinking about time spent with you. 

Life moved on.  I got married, got busy building my life....my poor husband heard all my childhood memories over and over and over.  We met again after few years and learned that you were engaged to Tridib and will be married soon.  Met the love birds at Chandrama's house.  Was so happy for both of  you.  You both had the spark and the fuzzy feeling you know :-)

Time was rolling and life got even more busier and 1998 on my trip back home, learned that you are a proud mom.  Could not see you or the baby that trip.  Made many  more trips after that and met you and Tridib few times but never got a chance to meet Om.  But always had this special feeling about him. Om is your son, must be very special.....As technology advanced saw Om's pictures and then saw a video of Om singing. Somehow developed an invisible bond with him.  Didn't talk to anyone about but just had that special feeling.

I will never forget when I read Sipra's posting about Om.  I just froze and thought I was mis-reading, so took a deep breath and read it again, then again, and again....heart started racing fast and had the feeling of butterfly on the stomach.  Had your face flash in front of me,

Next few hours was mixed with sorrow, anger, and a feeling of loss.  Wanted to pick up the phone and call you right away then could not gather the courage.  What am I going to tell you?  Felt like there is nothing in the world I can say to make you feel better.  Tried to rehearse what to tell you......and finally gathered enough strength for the call.  Just after saying hello, I forgot all the rehearsal.  You said you were in in Om's room at the time and feeling his presence.  I guess I immediately felt the same because I was not as disturbed any more.  Just listening to you made me realize that how special you are!!  You did talk about Om the whole time and how you had a vision before his birth.  How you knew that he was a special child.  I just listened.....what a powerful and strong personality you are!  Almost unbelievable at times, so calm.  But I salute you my friend, your actions and reactions half way around the world from me has made me realize life.  To accept life....and I am very proud to be your friend.

Om Raja....you are so special.  I love you and your parents.  

Never lose faith in your dreams!

Mrigank Das

A couple of years back I was on a bus tour of the city of Los Angeles. And the tour guide told me something that I shall never forget.
He said, "In LA, even the waiter in the restaurant is only one audition away from stardom." - I always think life is like that too - you are one audition away from stardom - never lose faith in your dreams!

Reflections 1.1

Siddharth Padhi

What makes this whole thing tick in time? We, the People of '83, regrouped after three decades, bringing with us our notions on the others from school days. If course, none of us are the same any more. So, its been interesting rediscovering things about each other; and sometimes bickering in the process. As familiarity discovers the unfamiliar aspects, the bonds strengthen  to create a composite, comprised of the original (not Chinese) bits, but far superior in character. That's what drives it.

Arabian Nights… Then and Now

Sipra Pati

Sometimes I have this dream… that I am strolling through a marketplace somewhere in the Middle East. The sun is beating down its angriest of rays, but the mesh awnings of the shops provide a respite and shadows… Appropriately so, for what would a dream be if it weren’t for shadows! As I stroll through the serpentine alleys of this seemingly never-ending marketplace, I see vendors selling silk scarves, hookah pipes, jewelry, beads, prayer mats, and more; I see merchants trying to woo people with strong enticing fragrances contained in slender vials… rose, jasmine, queen of the night, incense sticks that carry scents from the sandalwood forests of India, and many more that I can’t discern (hey this is a dream… my olfactory senses don’t quite work). The marketplace is crowded with men in white robes and veiled women in black flowing ones. They all pass me… no one as much looks at me. I find myself turning into an alley, which seems to culminate in a wind tower. It is dark in the alley despite the mid-morning sun. As in all the dreams, an old man sits on a wobbly stool with his ware displayed in a wooden wheelbarrow. He takes a pause from his hookah pipe - its smoke hovering around like a cloud. With a small smile, he picks up something from his wheel barrow and offers it to me. It is a lamp – not the most beautiful of things. In that split second that I hesitate to proffer to reach out to his outstretched hand and the unsightly lamp, the old man’s smile disappears, as the smoke from his hookah pipes becomes denser. Soon enough my dream gets all jumbled up and fades into a fog of dissipation, leaving miniscule dregs and regrets upon my wakening.

            What follows on my awakening is an overbearing feeling of sadness! I rationalize and tell myself that it is but a dream – remnants of thoughts and actions that have sunk to the bottom of my subconscious just like dregs; only to emerge nocturnally as my body rests. I wonder which thought or action could possibly trigger such a dream time and again. My only connection to the Middle East was my only visit to Dubai over five years back. The marketplace did not find space in either my cellular archives or the camera’s digital one, for it was noon, and deserted when I visited. What I remembered more fondly was the desert safari. Four wheel drive SUVs hurled my family and me up and down the sand dunes of the Arabian Desert, delivering us at the end of the day exhilarated, exhausted, hot, and hungry at a camp that had an Arabian feast laid out for our stomachs and a belly dancer to bedazzle us with her unique dancing-cum acrobatic skills. This was the Arabian night that defined exotic. And, here I was dreaming of veiled women and old men in dark alleys!

This is what Rajesh Srivastava has to say about hanging out with school buddies on social media:

"This is where my soul breathes....freely, like a child.
This is where I feel 'open my tiffin box' , without having to think what I have!"

Runner's High

Biswajit Das


I went on a bike ride after 4 weeks. Nothing serious. 10 miles. However this has been my longest gap of not exercising in almost 6 years. A combination of a sport injury, travel, office stress and just pure laziness. But exercise brings something officially called "Runner's High". Similar to dope. As I went through the trail, with Peter Gabriel blasting Sledgehammer, the solitude just melted the stress and toxicity of the entire week. As I sit on the couch after 20 minutes of stretching, I really don't give a damn to the mannerisms and maneuvering of dishonest folks. Life is too short to worry about negativity. One should spend as much as time as possible in doing things that brings pure joy.

Seeking sweetness

​Recipe for Coconut-macadamia-banana muffins​: 

Ingredients:

2/3 cup raw macadamia nuts, chopped

2/3 cup unsweetened coconut flakes/chips, chopped (or use shredded)

1 cup blanched almond flour

¼ cup coconut flour

3 ripe bananas, peeled and mashed

2 eggs

1/3 cup honey

1/3 cup extra virgin coconut oil, melted and cooled

¾ tsp baking soda

½ tsp salt

1 tsp lemon juice

1 tsp vanilla

Steps:

1.    Preheat oven to 350F.

2.    Toast macadamia nuts and coconut flakes on a baking sheet in the oven until starting to brown, about 6-8 minutes, stirring every 2-3 minutes.

3.    In a medium bowl, combine almond flour, coconut flour, salt and baking soda.  In a separate bowl, whisk eggs, mashed banana, honey, coconut oil, lemon juice and vanilla.

4.    Pour wet mixture over dry mixture and stir to combine.  Add toasted macadamia nuts and coconut.

5.    Spoon batter into greased muffin tin and bake for 30 minutes.

Demonstration Multipurpose School Blues

Myriad memories flashback: the first smell of monsoon rain after a scorching summer, the bare feet afternoon strolls to pluck guavas from the neighbor’s backyard, the street cricket matches, the small squabbles over marbles, and overall the unforgettable memories of my childhood buddies. Many times I will laugh aloud immersed in the past completely unaware that Bindu is watching. She would ask, “Again you are back in the DM days! Tell me what was so funny”.

Funny it was indeed but that was not all, it was a cauldron of emotions. It was one of the most joyous and carefree times of my life. This time came and disappeared in no time. Yet it left lasting impressions of a lifetime.

I will start with an interesting one first. You may associate the right emotion. It was an uneventful day until the PE class in the afternoon. I was quite anxious, as I had forgotten to wear my canvas shoes. However, I was not the only one. Sudeep[1] had done likewise. We knew that this was a serious offense. While I was quite nervous, Sudeep seemed unfazed. The PE class started with all students queuing up and Hajari sir was inspecting the uniforms of everyone. Sudeep stood before me and I waited with bated breath for my turn. Sir approached Sudeep and asked him the reasons for wearing sandals instead of the usual uniform. Sudeep started to sob and this prompted sir to go close to him. Sir asked softly, “What is wrong Sudeep. Are you all right”? Sudeep, in response, started sobbing a little louder and this prompted our teacher to repeat his question, with a hint of concern this time. Sudeep, encouraged by sir’s imminent kindness mustered enough courage to point to the cause of his sorrow. While continuing to sob, he pointed to a boil on his left eyelid. What happened after that is history; our teacher’s wrath resulted in many back sores but no more eye-sores; I mean eyesores!

A second memorable event is associated with a teacher who replaced our usual Math teacher for a few days in class V. He started the class with a quiz: “Who is he that sits between two mats and is an ics”? The class was silent for 5 minutes and then sir asked us to discuss possible answers. We started to murmur with our neighbours but found no clues to this puzzle. Sir then smilingly said, the answer lies in the subject of interest for this class, namely MAT-HE-MAT-ICS. With this interlude, sir aroused our interest in this mundane subject through his unique pedagogy. I thought to myself, who is this interesting teacher? Later, I learnt during the recess from my friends from another section that he is Mr. Kameswar Rao. I still remember his full name K. A. S. S. V. Kameswar Rao and I am sure many of you will recognize the prefixes – Kundulu, Appala Sita Satya Venkat. These were part of the DM folklore and I can’t ascertain the veracity of these.

Section C was an interesting class. We all came from Odiya medium unlike the other two sections and were in training to switch to full English medium from class VIII. However, academics and the challenges posed by the bilingual training was not always our focus.

We were a multitalented and diverse bunch of individuals and we excelled in mimicking our teachers and giving pet names to them, which were ranging from the Elephant (Hati) to the Ant (Janda)! While we had a few studious individuals who were always immersed in academics, many were excellent in sports, some great in arts and music and yet others whose main talent was related to creation of fun and frolic primarily through mischief. I will dwell upon one of my colleagues who belonged to the last category. While he was “vertically challenged” and seemed much smaller than the rest of his peers, he matched this shortfall with an immense ability of thinking laterally and beyond the comprehension of any one else. He was the unlikely leader of an “alternative segment”, who led all plotting and planning activities related to the next big prank. I will now relate an incident that changed the moral of our class forever.

The said incident happened when we were in class VIII and we were occupying one of the last classrooms on the first floor. Any teacher would have to walk a long corridor to come to our class. The leaders of the alternative segment would stand outside the classroom on the veranda when one class finished and we waited for the next teacher’s arrival. On this eventful day, we were waiting for the start of the Math lesson. Many students in our class didn’t like the style of teaching of this teacher and made fun of him usually in the background. On this eventful day, our teacher was approaching from the far end of this long corridor. At this point, someone from this alternative segment shouted the teacher’s pet name and then everyone ran into the classroom accompanied by a deafening noise.

Our teacher entered the class but was visibly upset and made the entire class stand for the whole period. We were advised that the incident will be reported to our much-revered Headmaster and no further Math classes will be conducted until the culprit came forward. The class stood in silence and no one came forward. This was repeated for three periods on three consecutive days, until the teacher’s patience ran out. For the next class, sir said that if we all stubbornly refuse to comply, we would all receive hits on our knuckles from his duster. This form of punishment continued for a few more days until something happened behind the scenes and the teaching resumed. I am not aware till this day regarding the nature of the solution or how it was arrived. However, this incident bears testimony to the nature of the unity and bonding between our classmates. While we fought and quarreled from time to time, our alternative segment would take a stand and would mend fences so that we came together again.

From these collective memories, I will now digress a bit into my school blues. I was inherently shy, frail and hence introverted. I came straight to class V from a very small Odiya medium UP school in Unit IX Bhubaneswar. DM, in contrast to my previous school, was massive with a large compound, many classrooms with large classes and a huge student population. The school was not just focused on academics but on a wholesome education involving sports, music, drama and classes involving life skills from carpentry to welding. I was in complete awe of this school and its pupils, the smart uniform clad pupils and the well-dressed and (usually) good-humored teachers. Due to my shy nature and frail built, it usually took me much longer to make new friends and I was struggling in the first few days. I would usually play by myself during the breaks.  One well-built colleague of mine spotted my weakness and whenever I saw him I took my gaze away and moved to a different spot. One day, I was sitting on a branch of a star fruit tree thinking that I was all by myself, when I noticed that my “not so fond” colleague was right beside me. When I stated to get down, he made a foul remark. In response, I was taken over with rage and my fist landed on his face. He retaliated brutally and we both fell on the ground.

Some magical thing happened afterwards. He got up first and forwarded his hand to help me get up. I didn’t realize how that happened. Maybe he sensed that this frail body frame was hiding something deeper. I also sensed that the hard exterior of my colleague was hiding a much softer side. We have never looked back since that day and became best friends for life. We complimented each other very well as he helped and protected me from many menacing situations, while I reciprocated through joint lessons and academic preparations before examinations. I will never forget my friend’s selfless service to many in our class.

It is now close to midnight and I will have to conclude reluctantly with deep admiration of those eventful days, the dedicated teachers, and the most remarkable friends that I reminisce forever.

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[1] I have changed the names not to offend my friends.

The English, the language

Subhashis Panda

1) There is no wind in the football..
2) I talk, he talk, why you middle talk?.
3) You rotate the ground 4 times..
4) You go and understand the tree.
5) I'll give you clap on ur cheeks..
6) Bring your parents and your mother and especially your father.
7) Close the window airforce is coming.
8) I have two daughters and both are girls..
9) Stand in a straight circle..
10) Don't stand in front of my back.
11) Why Haircut not cut..?
12) Don't make noise.. principle is rotating in the corridor.
13) Why are you looking at the monkey outside the window when I’m here?
14) You talking bad habit.
15) Give me a red pen of any colour.
16) Can i have some snow in my cold drink?
17) Pick the paper and fall into the dustbin.
18) Both of u stand together separately.
19) Keep quiet the principal just passed away!!

TAMSA IN DMSLAND

Amidst the hazy memories of my entire school days some moments are of absolute clarion. The vivid memories of my first visit to the DMS. My first ever interview. Dressed in a white frock I entered the office of Mrs. J Sen, Headmistress of the primary wing, with my Bubu (father) very casually and greeted with a warm smile.  After the formal introduction and reciting few nursery rhymes I was asked to arrange different size of pink blocks in descending order to make a pyramid. I went on perfectly well till I reached the final stage. Instead of putting the smallest one on the top I placed it in the second (from the top) and was about to place on the slightly bigger one above it . Mrs Sen interrupted me and said, “Don’t you think the smallest one should be on the top, or else it will fall’’. But I was defiant and replied her “No it will not” and did it in ‘my way’. Lo and behold! It didn’t fall down!! She was very impressed and took me in her arms. She said to my Pa, “Mr Mohapatra, your daughter is a very confident and determined child.”

The tide of time eroded my confidence up to some extent in the later years.

The experiences of K.G Class are sweet. Miss Padmini was our class teacher.  Playing  with friends... Ringa Ringa Roses, Fire in the mountain, Lock and key, Dog and the Bone, Hide and Seek, Rumal Chori with song ‘ I sent a letter to my father on the way I dropped it ..A postman came and picked it up and put it in his pocket..’ was full of fun and joy .The innocent nuances of Ananya Dev who used to eat our tiffins!! Rita, Sujit Ganguly, Sujit Mukherji, Smarajit kanungo, Biswaranjan, Femina…and many more who continued in DMS but Femina left the school in midway. But many new friends joined later. Ultimately we had three sections from class V onwards.

I won my first fancy dress competition, dressed as a bride, in KG . After that the senior girls would  pamper me and pull my cheeks :)

How can I ever forget our adorable Ayah who is no more. May her soul be ever blessed.

Yearning for those carefree days and wonderful peers.

In the primary classes, school seemed like a home away from home. The affectionate  Mrs. Dipti Dutta, stern but a fabulous Maths teacher Miss Leela with a cane bag and of course the magic of the Majestic (late)Miss Benson engulfed everybody. She said to my Pa that I talk too much in the class and would indulge with long convos with my Pa :)

As I grew up my favourite place was our school Library which had a huge collection of variety of classy books. I read all the 14 volumes of Krishnavatara by K M Munshi. But my fav were those of Enid Blyton’s series of The Famous Five, Amelia Jane and Mr Twiddle.

The SUPW classes were interesting and at times boring. Made a vegetable cutter and egg whipper in the Metal class. In the Home Science class we were trained in stiching, knitting and some easy cookings. I learned to make sandwiches in a hand toaster but never allowed by my mother to try at home. Truly multipurpose! Hated the HPER classes but have the highest regards for Hanan Sir, one of the finest man I have ever come across.

Lost touch with my friends for decades but much delighted to be connected through the social media. Minakshi, Sipra, Minati, Chinmayee, Biswajita,  Neeta, Sasmita, Kaumudee ..you all are darlings :)
The ever enthusiastic and exuberant boys of DMS'83 are awesome :)

Wrapping it up with a few lines –

“Many a times the musical waves of my heart

 Sank into the Sea of Silence

 When melancholy weaves my memory loom

 Hoping for crimson roses to bloom”

Cheers and Best wishes to all my dear friends :)