Shifting Cultivation

Shifting is a tiny word with a lot of meanings. It can mean changing gears in a car or changing your position to accommodate a bench mate or even changing the location of something. Shifting does not only apply to small things but also to houses. And that is what we have been doing for a long time. If I glance at the statistics, it’s 6 times in ten years…..out of which I was able to participate in only two. However, I found that the process is just the same, and the only variables are the amount of goods and their locations, and the number of people involved. This is shifting as I see it….decoded….

OK, what is needed to shift house successfully is cartons or if you prefer it crates, something that you can get from any local shopkeeper, provided you can bargain. If packers are being used, this hazard is removed as they charge you for the crates (and deliver them late). Another alternative is good old BBS (Beg, Borrow, Steal), a process that is slow but produces results. But, it is VITAL that a lot of crates be available.

The next most important thing is sellotape and a sharp cutting tool (scissors don’t work normally as the sellotape is thick…suggested device penknife). Sellotape is necessary for sealing the cartons and a cutter for both Sellotape management and unsealing. Words of caution….scratches are to be expected when attempting to cut the tape or unseal a crate...it is inevitable, so I won’t say be careful. Newspaper is a Godsend here due to its versatility. You can use newspaper to pack a lot of things such as glassware, earthenware ad other such fragile things or paintings, tubelights, aftershaves, shoes. If all else fails, a good wad of newspaper can keep a loose cupboard door in place or help to move the same. If that gets boring, there’s always the odd mosquito or cockroach to slay.

The third most important thing is raiment. Jeans and a T-shirt are best because of the large amount of mobility such a getup offers. Just think of the amount of stair climbing, crouching, lifting, crawling, bending and of course the omnipresent dust that you are going to deal with. By the way, jeans were made initially for miners so that they didn’t have to worry much about the trousers tearing or hindering mobility. So a little thing like this is right up denim’s street! Trust me….jeans are THE thing. Still didn’t convince you? (Boy you are tough to please!). How many pockets does a jeans have? 5. Just think of the stuff you could carry in them. Your own body becomes a crate. You can shift who knows how many small objects in your jeans. Phones, CD’s, small idols, knives, forks & spoons, staplers blah blah… A lot of this stuff gets overlooked.

Next, you need hands.  I mean more than the pair you have got. If 3 people tackle one room, everything in it gets cleared in half an hour tops. An important thing to remember is that too many cooks spoil the broth. Get too many guys on one thing and it takes longer to pack and longer to shift. On the other hand, shifting is strictly a team effort. Even a small house can’t be shifted alone. But, there is that old cliché that too many cooks spoil the broth. Imagine ten people trying to pack one cupboard which anyway is seldom used…..trust me, it’s a nightmare!

OK now that labor pains are over with lets move on to transport. Naturally, unless you are a guard at Sherwood Estate, you will not assume to transport furniture in your sedan. (I am not joking, that is what happened when I went to get our dining table from Sherwood). A minidor is good…preferably with a wide bed so more goods can be stashed. Your own private car is not entirely a hindrance as small things or crates can be transported in it. Say for example a few crates of books, or a trunk or your PC for that matter…

Time is of the essence. The human body can work for only so long on adrenalin after all. The longer it takes the more tired you become and you seriously don’t wanna do Swedish exercises when you are pooped. A good tactic to use is to bifurcate the packing and shifting and to not do it in one day. Split it up! Take two days to move things. Like take out the contents of the cupboards and raid out your kitchen on one day. Pack em into crates and the next day send the crates you have packed to the new location on the first trip. Trust me it works! It is important that you have energy coz the work involved is seriously backbreaking.

However, all clouds have a silver lining! It is a lotta fun pitching in and packing and a great way to burn some calories! It’s not everyday that you wanna change your residence after all! Although it is hard work, it is enjoyable. A pair of earphones tucked in your ears, Bon Jovi or AC/DC singing and your arms and legs grooving to the beats! (Do I detect a gleam in your eyes?)

Once every crate, newspaper wrapped bundle, homosapien and speck of dust has been relocated, go to the neighborhood store, get a Kitkat and take a break. The worst part is ahead of you. It’s called Unpacking. This is a time consuming process, but if done methodically, it doesn’t take that long. But, before going in for the last leg, pick up the phone and order a REAL heavy meal form a local deli. After going for days on adrenalin alone, you will need some proper energy to function. Take a long rest. It’s best if you start unpacking one day after the moving. You are fresh and some of your muscles are willing to cooperate.

Unpack the kitchen first. The stove, the larder and the utensils. Hell, a guy’s gotta eat right? Next focus on the clothes and the toiletries. If you have a lot of labor, these things can be unpacked simultaneously. Next comes the PC and the in house library.

In general, things have been dumped here and there, so a bit of muscle power is needed to move the furniture around. Once you have the skeleton of a room settled, start the fleshing up and then the final layer of skin can be applied. Don’t bother cleaning before unpacking coz a lot of dust and insects have got a score to settle.

Once the crates have been disposed of, the neighbors have been met, and the house is looking as bad as it was before, you need to sit down and survey your handiwork. Then get yourself a cool drink, raise your glass and say “Here’s to peace!”

CONGRATS!! You have successfully shifted house!

PS. You BETTER call me for the house warming!

Where the Streets Have a Name

I wanna run

I wanna hide

I wanna tear down these walls

And feel the sunshine

Wanna reach out

And find that place

Where the streets have a name…

They tell me there’s a place over yonder

Silent and serene in the desert sands

Wish I could see that with you brother

And just leave these tears behind

I’ve opened the door

The sun is up

It’s a new day, a new plan

Here in this place

Where the streets have a name….

I’m back where I belong

Where all I need is love

And your love is enough

For me to make it alright

And wherever you are

Is a place

Where the streets have a name….

It’s not redemption

Nor is it paradise

It’s a place like any other

Where the streets have a name….

The Sign NOT Given

This title is kinda inspired from the poem “The Road Not Taken” by Robert Frost. It’s about how I spent my birthday this year.

We have a mandir at Atpur, which is on the Tarakeshwar line. Every year, we visit it during the pujas. I have grown really attached to it over the years and although I am an aethist, I somehow feel drawn to the mandir. Whenever my Dad says he wants to go there I jump for joy and start counting the minutes to our visit. I am a teenager but I become a rowdy 6 year old. I just can’t explain what attracts me so much. It could be my ancestors, or just the charm of the place. It is a really quaint spot.

Imagine my dismay then, when both Mom and Dad got fever. We had planned to go with my Uncle and Aunt. I was very upset as I thought I would not be able to go there this year after all. But, that old charm worked on me again. My Dad spoke to my Uncle and he agreed to take me with him. I was over the moon! Add to that the fact that it was my b’day. What better present?

My Dad dropped me there and I was so excited I could hardly keep still. My elder sister was also coming. We were soon in the car cruising along Kona Expressway, me chatting about this and that and the other. My Uncle put on a CD of Rabindrasangeet which we all ignored (I doubt he himself was listening to it). We stopped for tea near Dankuni. It was here that my Uncle chose to take the road not taken and made a short detour. Instead of following my Dad’s directions we entered Dankuni and made our way slowly along to Atpur. We stocked up on provisions at a small village whose name slips my mind and I took the opputunity to purchase some chips (never know how long it will take to get there…I am sorry but my stomach comes first!) and biscuits. My sister and I made quick work of them. Needless to say they only served to amplify my appetite with the result that when we finally got there I was ravenous. This was the 1^st time I had come alone to Atpur and Aparna Pishi, who is the secretary of the Atpur Mitra Sangha immediately asked where Dad was. Then she said “Tui to janish kothay ki! Amay ar thakte hobay na. Dekhiye de mondir ta!” (You know where what is, I don’t have to stay here. I have a bit of work so show them around the mandir.) As usual I felt an odd serenity come over me and the restlessness I had felt since last night slowly ebbed away, to be replaced by peace. I prayed (if you call bending down and closing your eyes for a brief moment praying) and somehow I felt my grandmother there. Déjà vu? I don’t know. After that it was time for lunch. Here, the lion that was my stomach awoke from it’s slumber ROARING for satisfaction. The spread left nothing to be desired. It was typically Bengali- dal, shukto, bhaat, macher jhol and begun bhaja (which on closer inspection turned out to be kumro). Aparna Pishi was there as usual overseeing things with her keen, lively eyes. She seemed as mischievious as we all were when we were young (I am not THAT old yet….you never know what trick I might pull next…BEWARE!). After the lunch, we paid our subscription money to Aparna Pishi and we were on the road a bit later.

On the way back,Uncle switched on a CD of Carpenters and that was all I needed to go into a trance. I must mention her that the volume was SO low that all I heard of the songs was the chorus. That was more than enough. As we entered civilization, we made a pit stop for some tea. Have you ever tried highway side tea? I assure you it is quite different from normal roadside teas. It’s milky and sickeningly sweet, a combo that particularly happens to attract me.  We made the turn into Kolkata shortly afterwards. And then IT happened.

Greenery is a sight for sore eyes, as I am sure all of you will agree. But then again you know what they say, too much of anything is BAD. I learnt the truth of this that day. As we were crossing the flyover to Kolkata, there came a fork in the road. The left fork led to Kolkata whereas the right led to Kidderpore. In between the windscreen and the signboard was this tree. As a result, my Uncle could not read the signboard until he had made the wrong turn and descended into Kidderpore. As before, my uncle had taken the less trodden path, although it was no fault of his. He takes things in his stride. So he pulled over and then drove straight on. Unfortunately the route he had in mind was sealed. So, we took a detour and got a free tour of Kolkata’s docks. I was discussing the merits and demerits of launching a tourism package- buy a trip to Atpur and get a FREE all expenses paid tour of the Kidderpore Docks. To me, it sounds lucrative. It sounded lucrative to my Uncle also and gave a loud guffaw. Thankfully, Uncle knows Kidderpore pretty well and soon we were heading home.

At Ballygunge, I took a spur-of-the-moment decision to sleep over. I called my parents and got their blessings. Then, we cousins bonded over submarine sandwiches, roast chicken and ABBA. Whenever I think of “The Road Not Taken”, I am reminded of the Sign NOT Given or rather not seen….it never fails to cheer me up…..

A Kind of Hush

31^st July seems to be a normal date for all of us…..but is it? A cat on a pavement is spying on a house in a suburb of London. This is also not abnormal…..all cats wander around places and into neighbor’s gardens walls. A man is eating his breakfast and will shortly be leaving his house, go to the office and lay a set of terms before another man. All in a day’s work.

I forgot to mention that on his way to office, he sees the cat mentioned above staring at a road map….and reading a sign…..Like a normal person, he felt that his hangover hadn’t passed. The lunch hour…a welcome moment when one can stretch his legs, call home or a friend and get some thing(s) to eat. This man goes down in the elevator and crosses to the bakery. He buys a doughnut and on his way back, a complete stranger comes up and hugs him….This is a bit odd…..even more so because the person is dressed in green robes and a purple hat….. (just some eccentric?) The man shrugs this off but then meets a large group of these queerly dressed men around a corner….

WELCOME MY FRIENDS TO PLATFORM 9&3/4 (nine and 3 quarters)…..ALL ABOARD FOR THE HOGWARTS EXPRESS!!!

 Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is an institution founded by 4 great wizards Godric Gryffindor, Salazar Slytherin, Rowena Ravenclaw and Helga Hufflepuff. The four houses there are named after them and their aim is to educate young boys and girls in the arts of magic. The school accepts one and all irrespective of background, creed or caste. Even half bloods (wizards whose parents are not wizards) are accepted here. But, according to Salazar Slytherin, such half bloods are unworthy of being instructed at Hogwarts and this opposition later on causes a row between the founders and Slytherin leaves the school.

Pardon my digression, it was necessary to lay some foundation before continuing with the article. Our story is about “the boy who lived”, Harry James Potter. The title is well deserved for at the age of one, he survived an attempt on his life by the dreaded dark wizard Lord Voldemort, which leaves him with a scar shaped like a bolt of lightning. Lord Voldemort however was not so lucky and he lost all his powers and had to go into hiding.

This is how Ms. JK Rowling begins the first book in the Harry Potter saga. These books tell Harry’s story. They show him as a normal boy, who by a cruel twist of fate loses his parents. He is given to the care of his aunt and uncle. They are the typical foster parents, like Cinderella’s stepmother. They keep him locked in a cupboard under the stairs and force him to work round the clock. But, on his 11^th birthday, his life changes.  He learns that he is a wizard and that he has been admitted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He is famous in the wizarding community as he brought about the fall of Lord Voldemort. It is at this point that we are introduced to certain wizard terminology- for starters, non magical people like us are called Muggles and the wizarding world can only marvel at how they manage to survive without ANY magic whatsoever. A world without magic is as much a fantasy to them as spells and wands are to us.

The big moment comes when Harry meets Mr. Ollivander, who tells him a very important fact- “the wand chooses the wizard, Mr. Potter” Again as if by fate’s will, Harry is chosen by a wand whose brother belongs to Voldemort.

He befriends Ronald Weasley and Hermionie Granger, and this group face many perils together as the tale unfolds. At Hogwarts, we are thrown headlong into Harry’s world, a world where portraits move, ghosts sweep corridors, staircases are not stationary, doorknobs bite, candles are everlasting and owls bring letters to people. Harry soon learns that on the night Voldemort killed his parents, he also lost all his powers and became a mere shell of himself. But, the headmaster and Harry’s mentor believes that the story is yet to be told and Voldemort will come back, seeking vengeance on Harry and the wizarding world as a whole. His prediction comes true and Harry faces off against Voldemort sooner than he expects…in his very first year in fact.

As the stories progress, Harry grows up in front of our eyes. He learns spells, procrastinates, gets into fights, makes enemies and has crushes. Perhaps, this is what is so appealing to us, the normalcy of the characters. Harry’s imperfections are what set him apart from the rest. He seems more real, more factual.

The subjects taught at Hogwarts include Transfiguration, the ability to change the shape of things- such as change an owl into a glass or a table into a wine glass. This is applicable to humans as well. Charms is a class taught by Professor Flitwick, who is so short, he needs to stand on books to look over his desk. Charms is perhaps the most varied class. There are charms to heal people, to make objects levitate, to bewitch people and to set things on fire. Next is Potions, a class that Harry hates almost as much as the teacher Severus Snape. Potions are of a wide variety- there are healing potions, potions that force you to tell the truth, potions that can make you sleep indefinitely and potions that are used as antidotes.  Unfortunately, Harry is never able to brew a potion correctly in Snape’s class. Herbology is equivalent to Biology in the Muggle world (I used the word Muggle…this is the effect Harry Potter has on us!). It is the study of magical plants, taught by Professor Sprout. Defence Against the Dark Arts as the name suggests is a class where you get to learn how to use protective spells against potential threats- dark creatures or wizards. This is the one class whose teachers keep changing until at last it is given to Snape, who had been after it for a very long time. This is Harry’s favourite class and one for which he has an aptitude.

The wizards also have a sport which they call Quidditch. It involves flying on broomsticks and dodging other players. The ultimate goal of the game is to capture the Golden Snitch. The person whose responsibility it is to catch the Snitch is called the Seeker, a position that Harry plays in. Beaters are players who keep Bludgers at bay. A Bludger is a ball that concentrates on knocking people off their brooms. The last ball in the game is the Quaffle. Chasers are players who put the Quaffle into any one of three goal hoops located at the ends of the pitch. A Quidditch team has 3 Chasers, 2 Beaters and one Seeker.

Neville Longbottom is a boy whose parents were tortured and driven insane by Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange. Harry meets Neville’s parents in the 5th book. He visits the wizarding hospital St. Mungo’s and sees Neville with his grandmother there.  Mrs. Longbottom gives Neville a bubble gum wrapper that he pockets despite his grandmother telling him not to. His father cannot recognize him. Later on in the book, Neville meets Bellatrix Lestrange. All he says is “You are Bellatrix Lestrange”.  That’s it. There is so much humanity in the books. They teach us about how to face our fears and how to fight against them. The books lend us strength and give us joy. Through the eyes of Harry we see a world which is every bit as tough as our own. It’s more than just a tale of Good v/s Evil. It’s a tale told with humour, passion and is humane. The books teach us how to forgive, how to come to terms and how lucky we are to be alive. This is what sets them apart from any other book in the same genre. This is Pottermania. And you know what? In spite of the fact that Voldemort is dead and gone, in spite of the fact that everyone knows what’s at the end of the tunnel, people will STILL read Harry Potter even after the final movie releases. Why? Because they are not books, they are tomes of wisdom, they are our friends. And there is a kind of hush all over the world as people just like us fall in love with them again.