In Memory of Seema

Yah, I thought i will give another title to this note, but finally decided to write about her as a continuation of my past memoir. She was the girl I grew up with from childhood days and yet had a very good love and hate relationship throughout my life. I can call it a 'love and hate'relationship ' because at so many points of time we have confronted with eachother with opposite ideas, groups and gangs but have always come back as good friends.

I have not met her for last fifteen years ! Long since 1993 summer. I got married in February, 1993 and then i think we went to their house few times and then suddenly something happenned due to her younger sister and i stopped visiting their house and then i assume she got married in 1994 and then i have no meeting with her. But i have her news and know that she is Zambia and also flew last time over her country to Mauritius but never ventured to meet her. in 2008 January her elder sister told me that she has come to India and after so many years I wanted to speak to her but in vein as i could not connected to her sisters home when she was around.

I think lots of things in life are pre-destined and so also my relationship with her. At some point of time she was very good friend and in the next couple of days she turned to be one of worst crtics. I have never minded her words and neither will be evr in life but it seems the confusion continues in life forever. If i could have met her sometime in last fifteen years, probably i could have clarified lots of things and tried to bring back my relationship normal with her. I know that she is mother of a son and so also i am father of a smart and intelligent boy !

i wish i could ever meet her in my life before i die and speak to her. If she happens toread my blog in this life or after my death, may be she will get some idea about my relationship with her. If i dont get a chance, may be i will clarify her in the next life.

I need to clarify her about so many people, her own sister Jhuma, my freind Sudershan Nadda, our job at Media World, My meeting with her and family in the dense forest of Similipal in that eventful night, my marriage to Julie and so many things in life.....

But I wish I could meet her some day... if I die then may be this will be one of the things that I could no do ' meeting her' and explaining things to her.

Lets pray together that i meet her at some corner of the world and spend sometime over a cup of coffee and explain the meaning if life... wish I could do that today and now... But horses dont have wings... You wanna know about her role in my life ? continue reading my blog

Those butterfly catching days

Yah, let us start from where I had left last time... I was writing about my childhood days and the school in which I studied for the first few years of my schooling. These were nice days of life. I dont remember much about those days but still whenever i think about those days, i always feel great about it. may be it brings back those emotional simplicity which i lost as i grew up. We were having lots of fun those days. I was very fond of catching butterflies and a small insect called 'gunjar poka' during the rainy season. There were red insect called 'sadhab bohu' and they walked on the new green grass behind our school field in rainy season. I dont see them any more these days as i live in a jungle of concrete. But they must be around in small innocent corner of some village of Orissa. and some little boys must be playing with them now ! where are those golden days gone !! We use to catch the gunjar poka and wind a thread around it and keep them in a small tin box. In fact i had a tin box in which i kept my books, all the prize catches and all possible mischieves together at that age.
Naughtiness came naturally to my gang and one day we decided to go in an expedition to catch the 'gunjar poka'. But we had our school bags and we need to take good care of them. I think it was the plan of the tallest one among us called 'Kabu"to hide the boxes beneath the sands which were supposed to be used for construction work in 'munu's house. So all of us were happy with the brilliant idea and escaped the school to come back in the afternoon to find that we are caught. Munu's uncle... Ramesh uncle who was supervising the consutruction work could find out the boxes ! and when we came back happily from the expedition, we could find the boxes standing like orphan children and being testimony to our misdeed. I still remember how bad we were looking on that day in front of Ramesh uncle... after some years when i went back to do my graduation and got reunited to my old friends in BSC class, I had the same sense of guilt whenever I met Ramesh uncle.
More than what we did in those days I still remember the moments that we spent with my friends. I was writing about the friends of my class and particularly the girls in my batch.. Maay be I will write about them when I get time and may be you will love to read the stroies of my teenage friends

what I remember last about myself

it is an interesting way to look at life. I was wondering what do I remember farthest from my current point of existence about myself. It is taking me to a small town called Nayagarh in Orissa. I was born in this small town. If you travel some 117 kilomemters from Bhubaneswar, then you will reach at this town which is in the foot hills of a small hill. I dont remember the name of the hill now. But it was a big hill, at least for a small child.
we use to travel in blue color Orissa Road Transport Corporation Bus (ORT Bus)in those days when we were required to go to my village. I can say 'required to go' because my mother was always reluctant to go to the village. I dont know the reasons. Now I guess she was the youngest daughter in law and there were five on top of her and she always avoided going to the village.

It was a difficult journey also as we used to get down on a small place called Bhimapara and then five killometers on a bullock cart ride through bumpy roads. I was always scared about bullock carts and had nightmares that I have fallen down from it and broken my legs. Then on the way, there will be a river and in some rainey seasons, the water level will be high and we had to wait on one side of the river to cross after the water recedes.
I dont have any memories of my grand father but people say that he was a great scholar and puran pandit (he was an expert on 24 puranas) and some say my brilliance comes from his knowledge base!! wow!!). I am told that he was a handsome man and used to put a sandalwood mark on the center of forehead. But I have good memories of my grand mother as she died when I was in my graduation class. The two years of my graduation, I had a chance to see her very often (of course, in the absense of her son as my father was working in sambalpur), but she never complained about my father being far away as she had all her sons around her. and one day she died.

I think I am moving out of my line of thought, may be some other time I will write about my parents and grand parents. I was writing about my childhood and my memory of that period. I still remember I was in class 3 and I had a teacher called Rama sir and he was a very strict teacher and he had sticks of different size and order to punish students in the class.

I remember munu, babu, rabi, dhanda (thats the name of a snake), kabu and sibu were my classmates. who were the girls in my class? I can recall seema definitely as she latter on came close to me in life, but as i remember boby was our darling in the class. she was an extremely good looking girl. what does good looking mean at that age! Yes, jeetu was there. without Jeetu lots of trilogies of life can not be penned down ! Let me take a break and write about these guys latter. Let me take a long break as i am still thinking about those days.

Let us have the begining

This blog will take me down memory lane and I plan to write my memoir in this blog. I wish to pen down y struggles, frustrtations, mistakes, crimes, sufferrngs and successes while I travel down emory lane. I dont expect people to read this blog, but if soe people do read my blog i would love to have their comments on my writing and particualrly comments on y life, whether it was worth living or not. Did my mistakes stand as common man's mistake or they are the grevious kind that can never be forgotten. The goodness that I have will come up but more than that it is the mistakes and crimes that I think I have done that I wish to pen down.

I always thought of writing my memoir but it never fructified as i was so preoccupied with my professinoal work. So i thought let me start with a blog and ay be who knows when the blog is full (will it ever be) then I will bring the in the book on my life.

What do you say? I a in the right track or sound too stupid to write down the memoirs which may be readby many unknowns, but unknwons are better than many knowns