Remembering Titanic

As the whole world gets ready to embrace the new James Cameron film, I decide to revisit a film which fascinated a child 11 years ago.

I was hardly five then. But to this day, the sunny April day of 1998 is as clear in my mind as anything else. A new English film had become the talk of the town. It had won 11 Oscars (I didn't know what an Oscar was) and became a global hit. (As though they were the only criteria for a good film) It had come to Kolkata and as expected, became an instant smash hit. People all over were rah-rah-ing about the film on the sinking ship.

My relationship with cinema till then was not very developed. I don't remember seeing many films before that. (You certainly wouldn't expect a five-year-old to appreciate Orson Welles or Satyajit Ray, would you?) I was taken to movie theatres a couple of times before but the experience at the cinema hall was nothing memorable to speak of.

We didn't know anything about this new movie except the fact that the protagonist was a sinking ship. I remember that Aunt managed to get five tickets for Mum, Dad, Sister, herself and well, that little child. I was very excited. I was going to watch a movie!

The day finally arrived and we were all ready to go to the movie theatre. Multiplexes were strangers to Kolkata until 2003. Single-screen halls were all we had then. We went to the Globe Cinema to see the movie called Titanic which was "edited to suit the family audiences in India". It was as clean and family-friendly as a five-year-old can possibly see.

Happy Teachers' Day!

For me Teachers' Day is one of the most anticipated days of the year. I don't look forward to this day because this day offers us a chance to express our gratitude to our teachers and tell them how great they are. That should be done everyday. We need to thank our teachers 365 days a year from the bottom of our heart. We deliver some very emotional speeches on this day but once the day is over do we really believe in what we said?

Everyday, there's a news headline indicating the steadily deteriorating teacher-pupil relationship. What is the significance of September 5 if students don't respect their teachers as much as they should? We need to observe Teachers' Day everyday by being obedient to them and showing them proper respect, not by giving them flower bouquets. I'm not saying that giving them flower bouquets is not a good thing to do, it'd just be better if the bouquets were accompanied by true respect and love. Otherwise, the observance of Teachers' Day becomes an exercise in pointlessness and falsehood.

However, I await September 5 with intense anticipation because of the mad celebration that takes place in our school. "Dazzling" would be another word to describe it aptly. We have, to use a much-abused phrase, loads of fun on this day and today was no exception.

Leaves from My Japan Diary: An Introduction

If you’ve looked at my earlier posts, you’ll know how much I like to relive my memories – little memories which have become an inseparable part of me. I really wish I could live my thoughts in the Pensieve (like many characters do in the You-Know-What series). I don’t have access to such an object, but there’s way I can plunge into the sea of my memories and make myself happy – writing.

I’ve already said that, pleasant or unpleasant, little memories are very precious to me. But there are some memories which, in no way, are little. Try as I might – but I’ll never dream of trying such a dreadful thing – I can never erase those memories. There were some experiences which are etched on my mind for ever. Such a beautiful experience was the trip to Japan last year, as a part of a cultural-educational exchange programme. I am not exaggerating even a bit when I say that I spent some of the finest moments of my life in Japan. The experience in Japan was full of some little moments I loved. But the experience was far greater than the sum of such individual moments.

What I got and felt in Japan is nearly beyond words. And indeed there were moments which I can’t describe. I made new friends during this trip: Japanese friends, American friends, Indian friends, young friends, friends of same age, some friends who are older than me and some who are much older than me. Never did I imagine that my experience would be so overwhelming. I saw a country. I saw a new culture. I saw nature. I saw people. I saw … well, too many things. And quite unexpectedly, I saw myself.

For the next thirteen days or so, I will write my travelogue (it will be a part of the On This Day series), but it may not feel like a travelogue at all. It will be leaves from my diary at best. I warned you in my very first post that there would be occasions when I would be speaking to myself. I assure you that this series will be exactly that. It will be a totally personal journey down memory lane. I think that some of the opinions expressed in this series will be highly subjective. (I think all my writings are subjective.)

But if you want to be part of this journey … well, what on earth are you waiting for? Come and join!

Śubha Nava Varṣa (or Śubho Nôbô Bôrṣô)

[This is the first time I've tried my hands at flower-photography. I switched to the "macro" mode. But the result is not very good. Do tell me if you know how to photograph a flower properly.]



Here's Upamanyu wishing you: A Very Happy Bengali New Year (or Śubha Nava Varṣa or Śubho Nôbô Bôrṣô) 1416.

Today is the first day of Voiśākh/ Boiśākh (or Pôela Voiśākh or Pôela Boiśākh).

The first day of the Bengali calendar transports me back to a distant past, a past that was so dear to me. So many colourful events shaped those days. Those days were distinguished by simple, limitless and unadulterated joy. Every single moment those days was filled with wonder. I can never feel the joy and wonder again. That's why this day makes me simultaneously sad and cheerful: sad, because I know I can never get the days back, and cheerful, because I can almost feel the joy and wonder of those days.