Memoires of Another Day - VIII - Arun Roy Mukherjee.

VIII : Sejomama (Basudev) and Rangamama’s sacred thread ceremony was a big incident at our Jalpaiguri house. I do not now remember whether it was 1937 or 1938 but Bachchulal was not born yet then. Naturally many of our relatives and family friends arrived. Chitu Da and Nadu Da came and two of my cousin sisters from my paternal side also came. Another gentleman, who a famous musician of those days ( I do nor remember his name) who was a friend of Chitu Da also accompanied Chitu Da by invitation. Chitu Da and Nadu Da both was my mother’s maternal uncle. My mother was the eldest among the siblings. Though Chitu Da was senior to my mother by a few years Nadu Da was younger by about ten/ twelve years. Nadu Da though an uncle, used to address my mother as "Didi". Chitu Da and Nadu Da were also accomplished singers. My mother and my cousin sisters were also good singers. Every evening, so long as the guests remained, a private musical jalsa (soiree) was organized in our house. Finchumama and me used to sit and listen to the music every evening and whether we could enjoy the music in the true sense or not, but never created any problem or any disturbances. Prior to this occasion I used to cry loudly whenever my mother started to sing a song and was thus an embarrassment to my mother in front of relatives and guests. But strangely enough, I stopped crying from then on when my mother sang any song.

MEMOIRES OF ANOTHER DAY - by A. Roy Mukherjee

V : At Kharagpur there was a lame man who would occasionally come but not for begging alms. He would appear on the left of the vast open field lying in front of our house and then cross over to the right in great speed almost running on one leg. I was very afraid of him. Not me alone but all the children of the locality were very afraid. My father purchased me a motor car that did not run on fuel but had a paddle and a steering to maneuver it. Naturally all the children of the locality came to make friends with me. One day when we were playing on our compound and I was driving the car, suddenly the lame man appeared. All the children, myself included, ran into our house. The car was abandoned on the compound.


VI : We had a brick-built well at the back of our house. Inside the well a few frogs and snakes coexisted, peacefully or nor is not known. But they coexisted. The water of the well was used for cleaning of the floors and for toilet and other purposes. Sometimes a frog and a snake would come out in the pail when water was drawn. The frogs were comparatively much bigger in size.

VII : While we were there, a rumour spread that a number of human beings are required to be sacrificed at the site where a railway bridge was then being constructed on the river Padma (now in Bangladesh). For this purpose some people have been engaged to catch some people, bring them to the construction site for sacrifice. The rumour was so strong that all the people at Kharagpur started coming home before sundown and stopped going out of doors thereafter. My father’s office was on the ground floor of our house building and a few office bearers and other office staff used to stay in a part of the ground floor. So, for a few days, every evening my parents would sit on the open portico and the office staff would sit on the ground floor underneath and the discussion would obviously hover around the human sacrifice. I would, however, not sit with my parents on the portico, but would sit inside the room beside a window and would intently listen to all the stories.

A moment to celebrate

A very prosperous Puja To all

From

Arun Roy Mukherjee ~~~Gouravmoy Banerjee~~~Abesh Roy

Dipmala Mohinta

MEMOIRES OF ANOTHER DAY - IV - Arun Roy Mukherjee.

Another incident in Puri is still etched in my memory. It happened when we all went for taking our bath in the sea on the day of our arrival. I do not remember how the sea appeared when my eyes met it for the first time in my life, but only the huge waves coming one after the other and breaking when we were taking our bath. My father took me and Finchumama in turns for a number of times for our bath. Didima and Rangamama (Montu) were also bathing at a little distance. But my mother was standing on the shore and a stream of tears was flowing from her eyes while her face was showing various distortions in several expressions of emotions of fear, anger, helplessness, despair and despondence. Strangely however she was the most enthusiastic amongst us all in the morning for this occasion. Later she confirmed that though she knew that the sea is very big but never had any idea of its vastness as it appeared and the gigantic waves approaching her gave her an idea that it would swallow us all. Didima somehow persuaded her to come to where the waves were touching the sands on the shore and receding. Mother knelt down there with her head bowed and touching the sands facing opposite the sea. The sea waves hardly reached her body in full but her hairs were full of sands when she came out and stood. up.

Memoires Of Another Day - Arun Roy Mukherjee - III

I will never forget the experience I had at the Jagannath Temple at Puri. That day, in the morning, we all had our bath and dressed in new clothes went to the temple. Our Panda told us beforehand that he would be inside the sanctum sanctorum and would do all arrangements for puja once we go inside. In the entrance to the temple my mother and myself were at the end of the line and others in our group went ahead. My mother caught me by one hand and she took a one rupee coin in her other hand which she thought of offering to the deity direct. Another Panda followed us and offered my mother help. My mother told him that we have our own panda but the man persisted and followed us. There was a rush once we climbed the stairs and entered the temple. It was much darker inside. Suddenly that man tried to snatch the coin from my mother’s hand. Mother squeezed her fist. My mother was shouting but there was a big crowd inside and so much noise that nobody could do anything in that darkness. That man suddenly scratched my mother’s hand with his hard nails. With her right hand clutching me, she could no more fight that man with her left hand when he started squeezing my mother’s hand. My mother was already bleeding and had to relent at last. The man snatched the coin and immediately left. I saw everything but could do nothing more than weeping silently.

Memoires of Another Day - Arun Roy Mukherjee.

It was possibly sometime in 1937. I was about four then. My father was then posted at Kharagpur. We had a red coloured very big two storied house with a big walled compound in the front. Beyond that there was open space for quite a distance and I could see the maroon-coloured trains passing either from our veranda or from the windows of our 1st floor bedroom. While we were there my Didima along with Rangamama (Montu) and Finchumama came there. One day Finchumama swallowed a one paise coin. It was quite big in size, almost like our present one rupee coin. Nobody except Didima knew about it and she did not disclose it to anybody. Next morning, however, it came out without any fuss and then Finchumama told everyone of his latest adventure. A few days later we all went for a pilgrimage to Puri. I still remember that from early morning onwards "Pandas" came inside the train compartments and went on asking my father about his name, name of his father and fore-fathers, native village name etc. They were carrying heavy hand written books where they had all these details recorded. There was a competition between the "Pandas" to catch a pilgrim. One Panda who was known as ‘Sare-sat Bhai" found the name of somebody from our family and he claimed us as his "Jajman" and at that all others dispersed. We put up in a quite big room on the first floor of a building near the temple. My father went out to make arrangements for offering pujas at the Jaggannath temple and also for the Mahaprosad for all the days we stayed there. He came back, after making all arrangements with the help of the Panda with a big bunch of bananas in his hand.. The bunch was very big and must have had atleast some sixty bananas. My mother took it from my father and while she was going to put it in a corner, a monkey suddenly came in through the window and tried to snatch it from my mother. My mother was not at all willing to let it go and the monkey, a very big one at that, was also adamant. Then the monkey suddenly slapped my mother hard on the cheek and snatched it away and jumped out of the room.

Memoires Of Another Day - Arun Roy Mukherjee

I was then a boy of three or four. quite heavy, slow in movement and otherwise very calm. Finch Mama ( my maternal uncle ) who was my age, was lanky, very agile and prompt, on the other hand. My Didima (Maternal grand mother) purchased me a Dholok. I could somehow bring out a sound of it, but Finch Mama, even at that age, could play and bring some rythmic sound out of it. He would snatch it from me and play on it. I would nag him to give it back to me. Disturbed, hr would jump into a nearby cot, sit on it and play the dholok. I could not climb up the cot. I used to stand by the side of the cot and go on nagging. He would say to me "You get into the cot and I will give you the dholok".Then somebody passing by, my mother, my Dadu (maternal grand father) or any of my other maternal uncles would put me into the cot. I would sit there and start nagging. Disturbed again Finch mama would jump out of the cot , sit on the floor and start playing the dholok. I would sit on the cot and go on nagging, because I could not get down by myself. He would say tome " you climb down by yourself and I will give you the dholok, I pormise." Somebody else had to put me down. After some time Finch mama would give the dholok back to me. And go his own way. I tried to play but could never play it like him.

M Y M O T H E R by Bharati Bhattacharya

MY MOTHER
Bharati Bhattacharya
I looked up. The sky is inky-blue with stars glimmering like dotted jewels. I try to search for the star that is my "MA". It is a year now that she left, so silently. It is very difficult to comprehend, one moment she was there, beautiful and serene, as always, the next moment a void, she was gone. The tread of life severed by the cruel hands of time or fate or the profound dictate of the "Brahmanic philosophy", that "Life is pre-ordained".
My mother was the embodiment of great courage and grit, intelligence and common sense, compassion and love. She had the quality that endeared her to one and all. The first thing one noticed in my mother, was her beauty. She was very very beautiful, ethereally so, in reality, a beauty with brains. She was a natural composer of poems, anecdotes, had an exceptional memory, an alert and very modern mind with traditional values in tact. She thought, one’s self-respect is one’s most precious possession, which no one should loose under any circumstances. Ma ! I feel so proud and privileged to be your daughter.
I feel absolutely distraught and helpless without MA. She was a great emotional support for me. I never felt alone, for I knew my mother was always there to lend me her helping hand, anytime I need. Her absence has created such a void in my life which will never be filled again. May the almighty give us the strength to face life with fortitude and not despair. The end is only the precursor of a new beginning. A beginning where Ma is always present within, with all her blessings and bounties for all of us.
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BARO YARRI PUJA.

I am opposed to Baro Yari Puja (by whatever named called. Be it Sarbojonin, Sarbomangolik or simply Baroari) because :

1. There is no sanction of a community worship in the different forms of religion under the Hindu school of philosophy.

2. Whenever a Puja is done, "Sankalpa" is done in the name of one particular person and from the religious point of view, that particular Puja is considered as the personal worship of the person in whose name the "Sankalpa" is done.

3. It is a sheer wastage of money on an unproductive affair.

4. The pollution which is created due to blaring of microphones from early morning till late into the night and on the waterbodies on the occassion of immersion of the idols of the God or Goddess.

5. The crowd and the accompanying revelry and unruly behaviour.

6. The opening cermony conducted by some politician or an otherwise dumb page three celebrity.

and lastly

7. Drawing to the level of mockery by awarding prizes on different categories based on judgements given by some people who possibly do not know that religion is not a matter of competition.

“Inside story”- Computer Science

In this note I will discuss some more facts about our own computers. The computer which we use now is a 4th generation computer. Just imagine the 1st generation computer, it took a large space for accommodation (near about a 600x200 sqft room). Moreover the machines needed to be kept in an air-conditioned room so that it doesn’t get excessively hot. But now they don’t require them, moreover the 1st generation computer was built with the help of large vacuum tubes (like the CRT –cathode ray tube) but now the computer uses extremely small IC’s (integrated circuits).
If we move onto some for detail we will find that computer works with the help of some Logic gates namely the AND, OR and NOT gates, each gate is symbolically represented by following figures:-

We have more gates like the NAND, NOR, XOR and XNOR gates. This gates are use in various combinational circuits like the encoder, decoder and Multiplexer and the demultiplexer.
To be continued.............................................