Roadmap

GPS - Global Positioning System or Golok Pother Sathi as I fondly call.

Thanks to smartphones and google maps,  we all know what is a GPS today. I experienced the same in Frankfurt in the year 2006 for the first time. It guided us to a theatre. Though we had to key in the roads names quite a few times and keying the names were tough as the features were very basic then. Nevertheless we could reach our destination to watch a Bollywood movie dot on time. I was thrilled. Superb!

I had wished then, back here in India we should also have the same technology someday. Understanding the Indian roads and sub-roads and sub-sub-sub roads(we can go on actually) and the pulse beat of our well-known traffic, it was a distant dream.

Well though it took some time, but we do have a GPS in each and every smartphone we come across. We all have it. And with the latest technology it has become a very neat and useful App.
There where times when we were really smart enough to figure out a new place by ourselves. Now days our phones are smarter than us. The apps are even smarter. But are they really smart!! Well, let me take you through to some amazing experience.

We are a big fan of GPS. Wherever we go, we would just put it on and it would safely take us there without a second doubt. Soon Miss. GPS became our day to day guide to those places which are a bit unknown to us, or has multiple ways to reach. In Gurgaon, it is of utmost usage.

Once one chilling Saturday in the month of December, we ventured out to reach the famous Shitlamata Temple in Gurgaon. I fed the name on the app so that Ms. GPS guides us correctly. Little did I realise, that there are more than one Shitlamata Temples, one in Gurgaon and the other one is in the outskirts of old Delhi. The difference between the two  is only in the placement of the letter "a". Since I typed  Shitalamta Temple, Gurgaon, Ms. GPS assumed that I meant the Delhi one. We kept on driving and it kept showing us the way. At about halfway my husband realised that we are into a wrong direction but since the GPS was still showing us the way we kept moving. We wanted to know where does the wrong destination lie. We reached a very old part of Delhi after a LONG drive, wherein a small cosy minuscule Shitalamata temple was standing tall. We had our darshan and named the journey after Ma Shitalamata. As if, She wanted so we visited. Dearest Ms. GPS goes off scot free.

By the way we did go to the other Shitlamata Temple on some other day by typing the spelling Ms. GPS felt comfortable and confident with.

In one more incidence, when we typed Taj Mahal, Agra, surprisingly it couldn't trace. I meant The Taj Mahal. But it could immediately trace the infamous Hotel name where we had our booking in Agra.  "Mr. Shahjahan its time you start building a five star hotel for your Mumtaz!!"

Ms. GPS always has the habit of choosing the shortest path to reach the destination. And if that means one have to go along with the bullock carts in a crazy earthy so called road, leaving behind the stunning Yamuna Expressway. It took us almost 30 odd kilometres extra  to move back to the expressway. That wasn't enough. That evening in Agra, Zomato helped us to find a decent Fine Dining Restaurant. And as we fed that to the GPS, it took us to the most congested, filthy, over-populated gully of Agra, where we could only see chaiwallahs and hawkers, leave alone a small theka. As we moved ahead the gully narrowed like hell. And the only thing we could see were thick crowds of people everywhere with their irritated face, trying to make way by pushing and banging our car from all the angles. I finally got down to guide my husband for a complete U-turn. In the course the amount of dirty looks and the cold stares with scorching remarks I had to digest was phenomenal. Suddenly, a known face from our Hotel turned up from no where. He was God sent. We were then guided out from that Bhulbhulaiya. It was truly a nightmare. While all these were happening, Ms. GPS kept re-routing and showing the same hell road to go for. I understood, thou the apps are really smart but they have to go a long way to be as smart as us.

At time I think that what if the app was really smart. What if it could predict which road is safest. What if it understood my mood, what if it could suggest a few good songs that would cheer me up while I drive....what if...what if...what if....

I am sure we will have it all one day!

Smelly EMotions

Have you ever heard of the movie 'Constipation'?
Nope.
That's because it hasn't come out yet. 

But Better out than in, I always say.

One movie which is already OUT is Piku! What I found fascinating is the story line, the concept. They picked up a regular chore of our lives, and adapted into a great story. Thoughtful yet jocular! 

Though we get to see these instances very often, still no one wants to address the topic. We have not learned to see the good side of this common occurrence. We always push it back whenever it pops up. We don't want to talk about shits..do we!

The movie took me back to the early days of my life. My paternal grandfather, I used to fondly call him Dadubhai. He was such a jolly person, with a great personality. Very handsome and always young at his heart till the last day of his life. 

But his center of well being used to lie in his clear stomach. If any day he missed his motion, his emotions would go straight down to his stomach to his intestines.  He loved crystal clear stomach. That was his mental peace. Else, we all saw Amitabh Bachhan, didn't we! "Aap har emotion ko motion se kaise judh dete ho". ........ha ha ha ha!!!! But I tell you this was so true for my Dadubhai.

Whenever we would plan for a trip out he would start getting nervous. He always thought he should go to those places only where the cloakrooms are easily approachable, if that means only for a couple of hours, then too. He always felt he would get the urge when he is out of the house. And because of his queer thoughts he would always land up going to a men's room nearest. And it was so very foreseeable.

He would actually have KOBJAHAAR every single day to get his tummy as clear as possible. It became a part of his meal. Whenever he used to go out for a trip, one thing which would always be there in his Jhola was Kobjahaar. Such was his assiduity toward this product. They must have made deep pockets through my Dadubhai. 

Another thing he would boast about was passing wind. He would never try to control. He used to be one bindass man who would be absolutely carefree about this. He would say that passing wind is natural and one must do so as and when it comes without any hesitation at any given point of time, doesn't matter what may be the circumstances are. We were small and used to feel very embarrassed but he wouldn't think twice before passing those loud and clear ones. He used to tell us that the loud ones are always safe as they would never stink. Oh My Gosh! And every-time he would pass wind there would be a sense of well being appearing on his face....he was so contended.

Then there were times when my cousins would go and ask him to pass winds deliberately and he would delightedly perpetrate the same. He would call it "Iichha-dhari Paad". We would just roll out laughing.

One fine day he decided he would need a ceiling fan inside the washroom. We were stunned! Why would anyone need a ceiling fan inside. How much time are you gonna spend there!!! His logic was simple. "Pet ki shanti means mann ki shanti".....while he passes motion inside he should have absolute peace of mind. He finally had fixed a small hanging fan just above the WC. It is still there by the way.

We used to laugh and laugh, felt embarrassed at times, but failed to understand that whatever he passed and said was all natural. We all do. We just do not want to accept it. We all feel so awkward farting and that too in public. People try to control their farts and often end up with silent stinky farts. Especially females would never fart in public.  I could never understand the social taboo on farting in public. I understand it is not like coughing or sneezing, but atleast it doesn't spread germs like the other two, except stinks at times. Based on the morals we are raised on, farting is rude as it stinks at times and the origin is our butt. Thou its a natural phenomenon but still the reaction of the society towards it has made it a taboo.

There's nothing wrong with the fact that we all need to have our tummy clean and clear. Motions and farts are also a part of our life. They should also get their share of recognition without the taboo. Imagine a clear clean gas free stomach!!! We all love that. Don't we!

Titas ekti nodir naam

Titas ekti nodir naam........

I am Titas. A bong. When i was born I was the 1st kid in my generation in the entire household. So everybody in my family wanted to have a say  in selecting a name for me. In their enthusiasm, they argued, they persuaded each other and then fought to prescribe their favourite names for me. Finally a consensus was sought to zero in on a name. This name turned out to be ...TITAS. Originally suggested by my Mashi, this finally got the unanimous consensus because of its sonorousity and uncommon genealogy. It still is.

The first time when people hear my name they either raise their eyebrows or twitch their ears and some wonder what a great name it is. Others have no clue what to make out of it. The pronunciation of the name is Titash. We bengalis pronounce Sa as Sha...for us all the three are SHAs.

Bengalis love uncommon names....we are known for this. Anywhere you go with a name like this and people are bound to ask ..."Hey, are you a Bengali by any chance"... and we grin and feel proud about our uniqueness of keeping such nice uncommon meaningful names (though it can be disastrous sometimes... soon I will come to that).

So...my name becomes a talking point after most introductions...I have enjoyed having a name that is quite unique and have always used it to my advantage. I have deliberately used it to break ice with complete strangers . Most times, it has generated curiosity, aroused interest and few eyebrows too.

Bengalis however react differently, the first thing  after hearing my name, they tend to exclaim "Oh!! Titasssshhh..Titas ekti nodir naam." Ok let me tell you here, that my name takes after a river, which flows through Eastern Bangladesh from Tripura in India. Its a small river but very very significant. 'Titash Ekti Nadir Naam', or 'A River Called Titas', is a 1973 Bangladeshi film directed by Ritwik Ghatak. The movie was based on a novel by the same name, written by Advaita Malla Burman. The film won a lot of accolades despite being an arty sort of a movie, hence to most Bengalis this name immediately brought back memories of the film or the novel. I have never struggled ever to explain my name to the Bongs.

Alas! beyond the bong land, the name has been mis-spelt, misunderstood and awfully mishandled. We shifted our base from Kolkata to Mumbai (Bombay then) some 20 years back. Overnight, this uncommon, sweet, nice meaningful name of mine started giving me a tough time. It still does. Though it maintained its weight in terms of an ice-breaker but I had to repeat myself a few times before people got the hang of it. It became a DISASTER!

I remember an interview once where after clearing the 1st two rounds, we were asked to participate in a group discussion. We were given a topic to talk and everyone was getting their chance. Then it came down to me. My name was called!!! "Tight-ass".....What an embarrassment it was. I mean how could the sweet nice name of mine turns into a TIGHT-ASS!! I stood up and corrected them, but I could feel the sneer in the group participants eyes after being called Tight-ass! Since then a few disasters has recurred in many instances by multiple people.

My friend Shweta's mother, picked up the phone when I happened to call her. I had to introduce myself and had to repeat my name 5- 6 times. And then finally she said "Oh so you are Aakash". Jesus! Why would I be Aakash. I corrected her once again. And then she came with another blow.."Ok ok..so you are Prakash". By now I was furious. I had lost it completely, I mean how on earth somebody calls me Aakash and Prakash!!! I retorted back, "hey! do I sound like Usha Utthup...come on"!!! I finally had to hang up...it was no use correcting her.

Then there was this Kannada gynaecologist who used to treat me during my 2nd pregnancy. She kept on calling me "Tit-us" through out my pregnancy term. I kind of left it there. I knew, no matter how much I bang my head with them...my name would never get pronounced correctly. Most Gujju friends and acquaintances would go like "Tit-ass". Wow! What a transformation of A River called Titas!!!

Many years back, I had taken an admission to a computer course. Frustrated after being called by many names, I agreed to be called Titz. 

Now, I insist people to pronounce my name the correct way. And I don't give up till they pronounce it correct. After all, I take a lot of pride in my name.

To some of those people, who have questioned over the years "whats in a name?"  I tell them, my name is who I am. My name depicts me, the person. I identify with my name. "Titas"....ekti nodir naam.