Photos

Ma and Dada

This is one of my favourite photos, and just one of many baby pictures we have of Bozo... he was a cute kid after all. I, on the other hand, must have been a supremely ugly baby, because apart from one lone photo of Bozo and me when I was a few months old, all other pictures of me are age 3 or so upwards, which I assume is when my loving parents thought I was cute enough. Bah!

Of Cacti - dead and alive

Twenty years ago, we planted a small cactus on the little plot of land where my brother's ashes had  just been buried, in Harare, Zimbabwe. The last time I saw it was about 18 years ago, on my 21st birthday and it looked beautiful and vibrant.

I must have told Russ this at some stage, and a couple of years ago my usually-ever-so-forgetful husband surprised me with a lovely little cactus, on Bozo's birthday. It had pretty, dark pink flowers when he bought it, but that was the one and only time it flowered. Looking back through our photos, I can't seem to find any pictures of the cactus - there is one of it in the background in this picture but that's about it. (Cool picture of me though, eh?!!)

There's the little cactus next to my right hand

Anyway, other than not flowering, it seemed happy enough, shooting up pretty steadily, if in a slightly bent, spindly way. Then Russell tried to fix it, because, you know, that's what he does. And to be fair, he is generally very good at fixing things. He stuck two skewers on either side of it and tied them to the cactus with a rubber bank in an effort to "straighten" it. (I should have taken a photo.) Two weeks later, the lower, plump half of the cactus had shrivelled up and the skinny top half had actually detached from the bottom. (I really should have taken a photo then!) The poor little cactus was dead. To paraphrase Monty Python: "It ceased to be. It was bereft of life. It shuffled off this mortal coil. It is now an ex-cactus." ;-)

He tried to blame it on the pot - the same pot it had been thriving in for 2 years - but I was having none of that. My husband is a cactus killer. (Okay, so it's not like I have a particularly green thumb, and he is the one who primarily tends to our motley collection of plants, but still...)

So last week I reminded him that he had killed the cactus and that the 5th of June was approaching and we needed to go get a new one. Understandably confused, since by now the Bozo-cactus connection had slipped his mind, he asked if the two were linked. Assuring him they were indeed linked, and having made him feel sufficiently guilty about the whole thing (no, not really), and having reminded him several times over the course of last week, gently and not so gently (yes, really), that this would be the 20th anniversary of Bozo's death, I was promised he would return home early to take me to buy a new cactus. Knowing how busy he is at work, and just how hopelessly absent-minded he can be at times, I told him to let me know if he couldn't make it back in time, and was half-expecting to go cactus shopping by myself this evening, which would have been fine, incidentally; it's just that I was hoping for his company and his help in selecting the right plant.

But at 4.15pm - 45 minutes after he was supposed to leave work and yet 45 minutes before I was planning on leaving for the shops, so really, perfect timing - he messaged to say he was on his way. So we go to the nearest Garden Centre only to find a rather sad selection of cacti. There were really only three, none of which appealed to us, so I gave up and was ready to leave, but Mr. Wonderfully Persistent found a whole shelf of delightful little cacti in a different section of the store.

30 minutes later, we had two cacti, because we couldn't settle on one, two beautiful pots for them to go in, and voila! Now I just need to make sure my darling husband does not try to 'fix' them.

Mammillaria Marksiana and an Autumn Cactus

AKA Bozo Cactus and Mini Cactus

Tributes

Last night I updated my Profile Pic and Cover Photo on Facebook. This seems to be something of a tradition I have formed for myself - of using photos to reflect dates that are significant to me, and the reason behind their significance, whether happy or sad. A typically lazy way of expressing myself :-)

It also seems I have become less hesitant of sharing my sadder moments on as wide a forum as FB - such is life in the age of social media.  I do, however, wonder when posting pics or status updates about Dada whether I will be making some people uncomfortable, especially because so many of his friends are now on my Facebook. Does being my FB friend mean they should be subjected to what may be unwelcome reminders of someone they used to know so long ago? For that matter, do my friends, who never knew him - or even of him for a long time - really want to know when the anniversary of his death is each year... do they wonder if I want them to say something to me; is this my way of seeking their attention? I do hope they know me well enough to know that if I need anything from any of them, I will approach them directly. I expect nothing from posting on Facebook... it is just the simplest way for me to remember him and find pictures and reminders of him that I may not have seen in a while. And while every comment or "like" or message I get as a result is touching and special, and shows me that at least some people do like seeing his photos and don't mind being reminded of him, it really does not mean that the converse is true. No one should feel obliged to do anything they don't want to on social media platforms, so I do hope I don't make anyone uncomfortable.

Hmmm so I may be over-analysing the whole thing. Oh well :-) Funnily enough, while this blog is "public", the audience for this is far less than on my Facebook account, so it almost feels like I can express my feelings more "privately" here, not just because of the number of people visiting this site; but also because people who come here are usually actively choosing to do so; and even then they can choose whether to read these posts or not, and it is easier to avoid the blog altogether if they so wish.

So the blog continues to be a special place even though it's not that active at the moment, and this year I have chosen to collate the lovely comments and stories about Aditya that people have so sweetly shared on various posts over the years:

My lovely Purobi Kaki said: 

It was wonderful to read about Bozo. I remember him so well during our Dunlop days. Such a lively child, full of exuberance and wit.We miss him too. 

My lovable Piya (she was so little when Bozo passed away) wrote:

I have never spoken to you about Bozoda since so many years, maybe because sometimes reasons fail you and anything you would say wouldn't add meaning to the already messed up meanings we all have to deal with. And maybe also because I don't have very thought through memories of him. Just passing incidents (the typical Dunlop-y ones with crazy kids around) in glimpses and heaps of stories of the Dunlop days heard from ma and baba!!!

But the last time I saw him, when he came to Calcutta, at our place....he was narrating hilarious tales of a trip they had, travelling on tops of buses...if I remember correctly, he was in Rajasthan then.

I have got hazy memories of him. But the pictures and the narratives from baba quite establish the facts that you two were the cutest kids around..

From my Mishty Mou, who is one of my dearest friends:

The last memory I have of seeing Bozo was in Calcutta somewhere in 1992 i think.... Suddenly the memory flashes right in front of my eyes. I remember during our Dunlop days Bozo n you would escort me home after every "ganer class" (singing lessons) with Ashit da.... we used to play a silly game about rescuing the princesses... remember? It was so exciting. Gives me a warm fuzzy feeling now that I think of it. Miss you dearly Mini and love you lots.

Deepak Joshi, my brother's classmate and friend in High School (KV Karanja):

Aditya was my classmate and there were 5 of us in the class. Paramjit is a doctor now and I am in touch with her and then Nandu Pattar and Prashant not traceable till now.

We all miss Aditya a lot. He would have been very happy had he been here today. I had had some fond memories with him; we use to play table tennis in the classroom and post Paramjit outside to watch for a teacher.

Although even I was very shy in beginning but Aditya was a lovely person and we did go out a movie with him, that was after our board exams. Though my younger brother Satish and Jeetendra Dahiya were frequent visitors to Aditya's home and so their acquaintance with Aditya was a shade better then mine.

Aditya was a very good natured guy he must be studying till wee hours and used to sleep in class as we were few guys; it was nice. In lunch break we would sit and enjoy. Nandu was closer to Aditya though because he knew him from some time.

However how much little experience I had with Aditya is not forgotten. I still talk abut him with Paramjit, my classmate.

He  was probably out of this world; a lovely character who was very intelligent and very humble. I wish he would have been around and I am sure he would help anybody for he had a good heart and pure soul. My interaction with him in KV Karanja was good and I still rate him probably as one of my best friends ever. Last when I joined shipping I met him in Karanja and he was very excited for me and then I never heard anything until his bad news 

I still love the person he was and feel that all those who care for him should make some efforts to remember him.

Dulali (Upala Sen) from our Dunlop days:

I am not sure Mini if you guys will remember me. But I remember you and Bozo from one summer possibly in the late eighties. I can’t recall now who you guys were visiting and why your parents were not there. We were then living in what was known as the 'Highrise'. And the two of you came over once or twice to borrow Baba's sci fis. And the third time I opened the door for you and silently led you to the bookshelf in the corridor, both of you put the books back exactly where you had taken them out from (I can vouch for it because that was something I never did, and I remember thinking, 'I hope Ma doesn’t get to hear of this.’)

Then one night there was a dinner at our place. We were playing hide and seek with Rini-Jhini. Bozo was not playing. He was sitting in one of those uncomfortable white cane chairs we had, holding my two-year-old sister Hia. (She told me later that the dada had asked her “Bhoi korche? Are you feeling scared?”) Possessive elder sister that I was/am I mentally appreciated his two words to my baby sis. When it was my turn to be ‘den’ I found a figure in the closet. But before I 'won' I had to identify the person. I remember Bozo prompting, 'R-I...' And I whooped RINIII. Suddenly Rini was upon Bozo, “That’s cheating,” she accused, hands on hips.

Another time, same trip, there was a drawing competition. I did a purple-blue monstrosity, a done-to-death river scene with boats et al. Bozo did a night scene. I remember he had painted everything black, save the paper-white moon. I remember it as if it was yesterday. I got the first prize --- a box of crayons. Shy as I was I couldn’t bring myself to tell him that his drawing was faaaaar better. But I remember he had the calm assurance of someone who was effortlessly good, knew it. And perhaps because it came to him so naturally there was no trace of arrogance. That was one box of crayons I never treasured. It just never felt right. 

The year I heard about Bozo I had just given my ISC and was about to join college. I gave my ISC in 94 so that makes it 14 years. 

When I was not living in the Compound, when you guys were in the Estate I had heard of you a lot. Joy-Jeet, Apu-Reshmi, Mini-Bozo… I was yet to get my brattier half, so I gobbled down the tales about these various units very greedily. 

I didn’t know your brother or you well at all. And I can’t even touch your grief. But your loss did touch my thoughts then and it remains in my thoughts now. If that makes any sense… 

Glad I came across this blog. 

Rituparna (Reena) Venkatesh from our Dunlop days:

I remember Bozo and Mini very well. I used to live in Dunlop Sahaganj. Lalita Aunty taught me History in Auxilium Convent for a year. I came across Bozo's blog when I was searching about Dunlop Sahaganj on Google. My dad Sutanu Saha was working in Dunlop Sahaganj. My mom was Gopa. I hope Lalita Aunty would remember me. 
I am sorry to know about Bozo.  I used to come to your house sometimes, my mother sent me to give something to Lalita Aunty. It was the years 1981-82, I was in grade 6-7 then, probably 4 years elder to Bozo. I have a younger brother, Rana, who is 5 years younger to me. He went to school at the English medium school too. He played with Bozo, called him Bozo-da. You guys were there for few years and then moved away again. I remember your mom exactly the way she looks in the black & white photos you posted, with dimples on her cheeks when she smiled. I still tell my kids about her sometimes and how she taught the song, "One man went to mow, went to mow the meadow" to her students at Auxilium Convent, the school beside Bandel church. Your mom used to get the door in her Kaftan when I rang the bell. I have very short but vivid memories of you all.

Pushkar Nath Sen, Aditya's friend from BITS:

I remember Aditya very well. I was senior to him in BITS. We were in the same wing and I have a few cherished memories of Aditya. How I discovered this blog is another story. I am active on facebook, got linked to Murali and recalled about Aditya. Googled his name and the rest is history. It is really commendable that you are doing this and I hope to add to this over the coming days. He will never be forgotten. Aditya was a gem of a person and whoever knew him, loved and respected him. His loss was felt by one and all and we grieved in our own private ways. May his soul rest in peace.
he had a unique way of walking. In BITS, we used to wear rubber slippers and whenever he walked past my room, even though my door was closed, I knew it was him from his shuffle. We had a joke about this - if memory serves me right, his sun sign was Taurus (like mine) and we agreed that a Taurean characteristic was that they are a bit stubborn and stubborn people drag their feet when they walk.
I also recall borrowing his cycle on many an occasion to go to connaught for a quick bite and he was ever obliging.PS: I have a 3 yr old son and we have named him Jaiaditya. Coincidence !?!

Sivakumar, Aditya's batchmate at BITS:

I went to BITS with Aditya in the same batch. His loss still hurts us all who knew him on campus.

Praveen Hariharan, Aditya's batchmate at BITS:

Mini, its very strange that I thought of searching the web for my dear friend Aditya Deb today..don't really know why I remembered him today after almost 18 years...but certainly this is not the first time that I remember him. He was in the room right next to me in BITS in our first year and was a very dear friend of mine.When I heard about his news many years back, I was quite shocked but did not even have the basic infrastructure in hand to find out what happened...when I read your blog on 'what happened' it still sent a chill down my spine. I have pages and pages to say about him but there is one most unforgettable incident that I would like to share....We had a computer course and I think the language was 'Pascal'. The night before we had our first test, Aditya came to my room and said- I give you one hour - teach me this thing....I had studied this thing in school for 2 years and this was probably the only subject where I had an ability to teach this brilliant guy. He had no clue about what this language was - he did not know how to write a single line of code...I explained to my best on what I could and he would grasp even faster than I explained...However I always had a doubt on whether this guy actually understood all that I had downloaded in about 1.5 years based on my 2 years in depth understanding of this computer language. Next day he wrote the test, came back and said 'thank you' - I managed to answer...Well, the real shock came when we got the results. While I had scored a fairly high 17 on 20, our man Aditya who learnt the basics from me only the previous night had scored 20 on 20 !!!. That day I realised that this guy was so gifted and naturally brilliant. I still cant digest that he is not with us..he would have been among the most successful BITSians of our batch if he was around..how I wish he was still around.

Fifteen years...

Too tired to write today, but thought I'd upload some photos...

Little Bozo

More of little Bozo

Dada and me with Reshmi and Opu

At Narendrapur ... (L to R) Baba, me, Didu, Dada, Ma and Thamma

With Dadu

To have or not to have .....

... A Birthday Bash.

It's been a long time (18 years, actually) since either Arup or I have felt inclined to celebrate our birthdays. Well, we really, really want to celebrate each other's birthdays, but since neither wants to celebrate their own, we just don't. Me, I still hate it when my birthday comes around, ...

Oh, we celebrate in our own small, low-keyed way: on my birthday, he'll take me out and we'll order a bottle of good, red wine and have a scrumptious meal at our favourite restaurant; on his, I'll make him his favourite meal of aaloo parathas and kosha mangsho (Indian bread stuffed with potatoes and fried and mutton, fried up with spices) or aaloor dum and Mughlai Parathaas
(a potato curry and an Indian bread stuffed with minced meat and fried with egg poured in). Then there's the traditional kheer, or rice pudding.

It was Arup's 60th last week. I wanted to have a really BIG BASH. And he actually agreed. Well, he didn't say his usual vehement NO, but said, "We'll see after my test." So we 'agreed' to do something over the weekend instead. We went out for dinner on the day after his test, and ..... that was it.

What excuse have I for not organizing it? I have none! I went to the extent of roping a friend in to help me organize it and came up with a great design for a cake. Even invited a few friends. AKD went along with it, but I could see it was only because I wanted it. His heart was not in it and I knew he'd be miserable. I knew because I knew I'd feel the same if it were my birthday. So I called the whole thing off.

And now, I'm not sure if I'm regretting it. Do you think I should have just gone ahead with it? I sound like a VERY confused person, no?!!!

Having written this, I'm now inclined to organize a belated party for him.

So, CHEERS, Arup! Happy 60th. As Mini said, "You made it, Fatso!

For some reason, I couldn't upload photos, so for pics, go to

http://picasaweb.google.com/elgeedeb/AKDSpecial

Happy Birthday!!!

Ma's post prompted me to stop procrastinating and write again. I was going to post today anyway, because like her, I seem to feel the urge most when there's an occasion coming up. Like his birthday. Birthdays are a good time for reminiscing (and introspection) anyway, I have always found.

Here's one really really old memory: Dada and I had a bedtime routine when we were kids. I have no idea how it started, but every so often, once we were tucked into bed, we would have a Q&A session, which would go something like this... (we would talk in Bengali, but the English translation is in italics):

Mini: Dada, tui ghoomachchhish? Are you sleeping?

(Yes yes, I do realize that is a silly question to ask, but hey, we were kids.)

Bozo: Na. No

Mini: Tui kaalke aamaar shonge khelbi? Will you play with me tomorrow?

Bozo: Hain. Yes

(I am pretty sure there were a couple of other questions after this one, but I can't really remember them.)

Mini: Tui aamaake bhaalo baashish? Do you love me?

Bozo: Hain. Yes

Mini: Koto-ta? How much?

Bozo: Prithibi-ta joto boro toto-ta. As much as the earth is big.

Yes, quite corny, I know, and really the kind of conversation that sounds cute only coming from under-ten-year-olds, but it reminds me of how lucky we were to have each other for company while growing up, and also of how close we were. Of course, I think we usually had this conversation after we had had a fight, but it was a pretty good way to make up.

We would take turns asking the questions. In fact, I am pretty sure he thought them up in the first place. Oh and he would turn it into a competition as we grew older. If I'd answered, "as much as the earth is big", he would equate his love for me with the size of the universe, and no matter how much I tried, he'd always manage to find a way to top my statement. Yes yes, he was the smarter one, I know. :)


That's him with Ma at Narendrapur (the boarding school he went to for a year), and in front of our house when he was about 8, I think.

More photoos

Lazy thing that I am... am taking a break from writing stuff... so here are some pics instead...

This was taken in J K Gram, Kankroli in Rajasthan, after some function, probably in 1984/85. Not sure what that look on his face is all about, but I sure look pretty pleased with myself, probably 'cos I was definitely out of "prop" mode by then----->

Many years later, on a beach in Beira, Mozambique. Baba (our father) had been there on his own for 2 years, and this was our first visit, in 1990.

<-------

Aha! More baby pictures with Ma... happy little boy, wasn't he... that one on the bottom left was at his.. well some Bengali ceremony that I can't remember the name of ------>

Old King Cole

One's memory is a strange thing. I remember the exact moment this picture was taken, and always have, but I don't remember who took it, although I am fairly sure it wasn't one of our parents. I do remember that it was taken on a Polaroid camera.... the very first time I saw one; it was very exciting!

I am not even sure how old we were... it was taken directly after a school function (and we are standing next to the stage) and Dada played Old King Cole in some kind of an adaptation of the nursery rhyme. I, on the other hand, had the extremely glamorous task of playing 'another brick in the wall' quite literally. I, along with a bunch of other chubby kids, formed part of the wall of a princess's castle. Did not bode well for a career in the arts. Sigh.

Dada, however, was always effortlessly good at everything to do with academics as well as extra-curricular activities. I remember a few years after this picture was taken, he was the Master of Ceremonies at another event. (It was some kind of a cultural show, and I had by this time graduated from being part of the set to being one of the dancers.) I was standing out front in the audience at the beginning, and there he was, this small boy on a huge stage in front of a sea of people, but there wasn't a hint of nervousness as he so beautifully spoke about the programme ahead of us that evening. He couldn't have been more than 11 or 12 years old at the time, and I was completely in awe of him. It was not the first time (and certainly not the last) that I felt so incredibly proud that he was MY brother!