The Kaleidoscope

 Watch out, you dumb ****, when you hear those words and the area smells of fish, you are at Howrah Railway Station. That was how I was greeted on my first trip to the eastern part of India.

The concept of a Crowded railway station is not new to a Mumbaikar but with 23 platforms, Kolkata welcomes you in a grandiose fashion and it feels like eternity when you finally reach the car parking.

The yellow Ambassador taxis transports you to the good old times. The famous Howrah Bridge welcomes you, bathed in yellow lights in the night sky and no matter how matured you are, you are left with no option but to stare at the engineering marvel with sparkling eyes.

The vehicular traffic made me feel at home and the long drive to Salt Lake presented me an opportunity to witness the sleeping city’s glory, aging like a fine wine.

Although it was an official tour, I left no stone unturned in exploring the city in my free time. A city which only existed eloquently in travel blogs and literature pieces had actually come to life.

A wise man said to me, Dada, if Kolkata is heart, then Sandesh is the heart-beat

. This wise man was the owner of that sweet shop and I was glad to be his guest for the next fortnight, tasting almost all the sweets he had to offer! Sandesh, Rosogulla, Mishti Doi, Rasmalai; you wont regret ditching your diet and putting on a few kilos for these delicacies.

On a lighter note, a colleague said, Fishes can survive without water but no Bengali can survive without fish, so you very well know what you may be served every day for your meal. I had a tough time finding dishes which had no fish or eggs or chicken. And this was when, the humble ‘puchkas’ came to my rescue. It is a sin not to gorge on the roadside puchkas if you are in Kolkata.

Apart from food, the second thing Kolkatans absolutely love, is their sport. A visit to Kolkata without visiting Eden Gardens would have killed the cricket fanatic inside me. The entrance to the Mecca of Indian Cricket boasts of India’s many iconic cricketing moments. Contrary to the nation’s sole obsession, almost every open space in Kolkata is a potential football field and you just can’t resist yourself from joining the young boys in their game.

If fascination over art is an art, then Kolkata is the Picasso of it. The city is blessed with art in its every by-lane. Crossing the Hooghly river in the jetty, at the backdrop of the scenic Vivekanand Setu, with Rabindra Sangeet playing in the background is a delightful solace for your wandering soul. In the mad rush to survive modernisation, Kolkata preserves Tagore in its music, Vivekananda in its morals, Netaji in its valour and Teresa in its humility.

  

 

If you are a culture and history buff, Kolkata is an incomplete assignment without a visit to the Victoria Memorial. Spend few hours in there and you would know more about the less. And yes, to reach there, you can ditch your sedans for the trams that still holds its place tightly, on the concrete roads and in the concrete hearts.

This city has seen it all, the years from 1911-41 of prosperity and expansion. Even Kolkata was not immune to the harsh sufferings of the mortal world. Japanese air raids, Famine, communal riots, the second partition. No other Indian city benefitted in quite the same way from British rule, but no other city had to pay as high a price either.

But the spirit of interchange and assimilation, which has been part of Kolkata’s ethos from the beginning, triumphs once more. Kolkata continues to provide pioneering leadership in various fields, as if Goddess Durga lovingly nursed the wounds of her child city every time it bled.

Like a Kaleidoscope, although a simple toy, enchants you in a million ways, Kolkata awaits you to mesmerise in a million more. Like a Kaleidoscope is best enjoyed with your loved ones, my dear friends, when are you packing your bags for Kolkata? 😊

I's and X's

Year 2002. Class 3 results. I had topped my class with 87% and was elated like any 9 YO would be. But my mom had a gloomy face and, on the way, back home, even started weeping. I took a long close look if it was indeed 87.00 or 8.70.

What probably hurt mom back then were the remarks of my class teacher, “Your son is brilliant in studies but remains aloof for most times. He doesn’t readily mix up with people and often seen with the same 2-3 children. This nature might not let him succeed in life…”

These comments were all Latin and Hebrew back then, however these words came back to haunt me in my teenage years, coalesced into a one-word misery, Introversion.

The terms “introvert” and “extrovert” were first made popular by psychologist Carl Jung in the 1920s. Allow me to call them I’s and X’s as I would be using them multiple times in here.

Contrary to what most people believe, shyness and introversion are not the same thing.
On the surface, introversion looks a lot like shyness. Both limit social interaction, but for differing reasons. An introvert and a shy person might be standing against the wall at a party, but the introvert prefers to be there, while the shy individual has got no choice.

By general observation, I’s prefer less stimulating environment and tend to enjoy quiet concentration, listen more than they talk and think before they speak. Conversely, X’s are energized by social situations and tend to be assertive multi-taskers who think out loud.

Could we now identify ourselves as an I or X? Please, no provision for ambiversion today :-P

According to renowned writer and speaker Susan Cain, “A widely held belief in our society is that the ideal self is bold, alpha, gregarious. Before the twentieth century, we lived in a culture of character, when you were expected to conduct yourself morally with quiet integrity. But when people galloped in the 21^st century, we morphed into a culture of personality, which sparked a fascination with glittering movie stars, bubbly employees and outgoing leadership.

It was only over the last century that society began reshaping itself as an X’s paradise—much to the I’s displeasure. Independent, autonomous work that favored employee privacy was eroded and practically replaced by The New Groupthink, which elevates teamwork above all else. Children now learn in groups. Ideas are formed in brainstorming sessions. Talkers are considered smarter.”

It's often possible to spot I’s by their conversational style. X’s are comfortable thinking as they speak. I’s prefer slow-paced interactions that allow room for thought. Pretty much explains why I suck at impromptu speaking :-P

Ten years ago, if you had asked me if I wanted to be born again as an X, it would have been an easy yes. Now, it’s an easy no.

George Washington, Warren Buffett, Darwin, J.K. Rowling, Einstein, Gandhi, Sundar Pichai. These aren’t just random names. They are icons. They are leaders. And importantly, they are introverts.

Now, coming to my class teacher’s remark, that I can’t be a leader or a successful one.

The key element to being a leader is a good set of interpersonal, or social skills. Good interpersonal skills are critical whether the leader is an X or an I.

Studies show that I’s are better at leading proactive employees because they listen to and let them run with their ideas. Meanwhile, X’s are better at leading passive employees because they have a knack for motivation and inspiration.

On behalf of all the I’s out there, listing out a few emotional buttons to avoid conflicts with your introverted companions.

• "'Why don't you like parties? Don't you like people?'
  "Usually we like people fine, We just like them in small doses. We're social but it's a different type of socializing."
• "Surprise, we've decided to bring the family and stay with you for the weekend." It's more likely to bring an introvert to a boil. We count on our downtime to rejuvenate our resources; an extended presence in our homes robs us of that.
• "People think we have answers but just aren't giving them, they don't understand we need time to formulate them"
• Don't interrupt if an introvert does get to talking. Listen closely. "Being overlooked is a really big issue for introverts," they are unlikely to repeat themselves.
• Above all, "we despise people telling us how we can be more extroverted." Many I’s are happy with the way they are. And if you're not, that's your problem.

In contrast to my previous statement that Introversion was my misery, I shall advocate now that,

 

We know from myths and fairy tales that there are different kinds of powers in this world. The trick lies not in amassing all the kinds of power, but to use well the kind you’ve been blessed with.

We Sell Dreams

The first time our eyes met, lit up thousand lights in yours. A magical force enticed you towards me. They said, ‘He does not make love stories anymore’, I knew ours was one about to defeat the notion. You stood before me with your twinkling eyes. You held me in your tiny little hands and I became your first book.
 

The first time we met, you couldn’t read me. I was fretful, if this would meet the same fate as of the relations in your world. But your parents very patiently and lovingly forged our relation which remained strong bind for years to come.

My ancestors in the form of Gita, have taught your world, the soul casts off its worn out physical body and takes residence in a newer physical body at regular intervals in time. Even I came to you in different pages and sizes.

Don’t you remember the days when I met you as Tinkle? Mornings became afternoons, afternoons became evenings, and evenings became night. Was there any force in the world which could have separated us? Marvel and DC comics had filled your hearts even before these studios could even find a crack to enter your heart. Tell me Dear Human, do they not make summer vacations anymore?

All those days, I did nothing but loved you and sold dreams.

Somewhere inside me I had read this line, 

‘Books are proof that humans can work magic’. 

At this age perhaps you had been made to believe that magic is fiction and impossible exists. I took you on a voyage to my world where magic was for real and Hogwarts did exist. We together transformed from Muggles to Wizards. I made you believe that a teenager boy was chosen to defeat the Dark Lord. I made you believe that friends can be your family. Well, I also forced you to believe that Ronald Weasley can date Hermione Grainger, sorry for that! 😜

All those days, I did nothing but loved you and sold dreams.

With every passing day, we grew fond of each other. I was successful in manifesting the world that real love does exist. I was with you, even when the girl you loved left you. My pages, my paragraphs, my phrases were the places where your heart found solace. You think that she might have forgotten, but the pages of her Mills & Boons still smell of you. In our little home, I grew in numbers and pages. From loving a hundred shades of various colors to being smitten with 50 shades of a single color, somewhere between we grew up and lost our innocence.

All those days, I did nothing but loved you and sold dreams.

It is rightly said by a genius, ‘A book is a dream that you hold in your hands’. 

Never had I believed that I would end up selling a million dreams in your sleepless world.

Doyle, Brown, Grisham, Larsson; the names just kept adding to the list. Although you despised my cousins, NCERT and UGC, you never complained about me. Few lines inside me were misread, misinterpreted and misunderstood. You burnt me, tore me, and banned me. Even I did not complain in return.

Few years down the path, something unusual but ‘remarkable’ occurred. I called it genocide, you called it digitization. Pages got replaced by screens, my companionship soon felt too heavy, not portable enough. I was left alone, abandoned in the dark shelves. Dear Human, I soon realized that I was like the Humanity of your world; old, withered, struggling for its place, clinging by its threads and fighting the anti-social elements; termites in my case.

For what crime was I prosecuted?

Was I too much loving or being too fictional or extreme philosophical at times to eclipse the harsh reality of your world? The gallows would have felt less agonizing than this darkness.

Years passed by and I felt that love again, those tiny little hands placed on me once again. This time, you were the one to forge the relation, but for your younger one. Were you smart enough to not let your kid get addicted to the screen or were you grateful enough for all the love over the years? I am waiting for them to change the statement, ‘Real love stories do exist’.

Till then, all I would do is, Love you and sell dreams ❤️

Watch the video here!