We met with a car accident last Tuesday

It is such a bizarre topic to experience and write about, but it’s also my responsibility to share the horrific experience that we went through as a family. On Tuesday evening, we were out for a family dinner. Our regular driver was at the wheels car, and my husband was seated beside him. Our son and I sat occupied the back seats.

We were waiting at the traffic signal when a bus violated the traffic rules and hit our car. It shattered our looking glass on the spot. Instead of stopping, the bus kept moving, thus crushing the front left door. It was a traumatic phase where I couldn’t stop worrying about my husband’s safety. Since our 6.5-year-old child was also in the car, we failed to calm down our nerves.

The condition of the car after the accident – the shattered looking glass and the crushed front left door.
Continue reading “We met with a car accident last Tuesday”

The kid goes back to school after 2 long years

It’s more than two years of spending every minute with this munchkin. While his father was busy as a frontline warrior, this kid and I held on to each other for support. From his online classes, restaurant outings, and going on trips within the city to dealing with my sickness, we faced it together.

At times, I felt annoyed with not finding a moment for myself. My writing schedule was messed up, and my daily routine went for a toss. Can’t wait for the school to reopen – I often voiced it out.

Day one of school

Last Friday, when he wore the uniform after two long years, picked up the bag, and got into the school bus at 6:40 a.m., it hit me hard how much I was going to miss having him around in the house. When he waved me goodbye at the school gate, I fought hard not to tear up in front of him.

On Monday, he cried a little, and I realized how much he missed attending classes with me. It’s a huge change for the kids, and along with them, parents and teachers are putting in a lot of effort to make this a smooth transition.

On Tuesday, our car followed his school bus in the morning. He wanted to wave me goodbye at the gate, but he also assured me of returning along with his friends by pool car.

Clicked this morning before going to school

Last night, we discussed his fears and insecurities in this new phase. He didn’t cry while speaking about them, and I was glad to be the patient listener instead of my husband. We decided that he was ready to make both onward and return trips by himself. I silently swallowed the lump in my throat; I had to let him find his way out.

A couple of years ago, I wrote a post on the boy’s unusual capability to get emotional and shed tears while he was a preschooler. It became a little better after he started pre-primary school. Deep within my heart, I know that he might still feel sentimental, and we would need to repeat these pep talk sessions frequently. Yet, his efforts and baby steps toward becoming independent touched my heart.

As much as I feel happy that kids are finally going back to the life they deserve after being deprived of the joys of childhood for two years, a tiny part of me will never get over the feeling of a void in the house and my heart.

Returning back to normal after 2 long years

After two years, the world is now opening up to life as we knew before the pandemic hit us in 2019. The kid’s school will commence from 21st February. However, it’ll only be for students of class 4 and above. So, we still have three more weeks of online classes and exams to wrap up this session before he gets back to school.

Family picnic and games

As much as I would get annoyed by my schedule gone choc-a-block due to his online classes and additional academic pressure, the reality of missing him at home hits me hard now. After a couple of weeks or probably a month, he would be back in school while I would deal with an empty house for hours.

Playing football at Maidan

Of late, instead of taking him to restaurants or fancy places, we are making trips to parks and playgrounds. The happiness on his face beyond four walls is unmatched. Last weekend and last month, we went to Maidan at Park Street for a mini picnic and games. There’s nothing more refreshing than spending hours with family amidst nature, inhaling fresh air.

Maidan

Here’s hoping for a brighter, safer, and healthier future for all of us.

The fountain in front of Victoria Memorial

Happy Saraswati Puja – 2022

Yesterday was the puja of my favorite Goddess, Ma Saraswati. When I went through the archives of my blog this morning, I realized I’ve always published a blog post on or after the day of Saraswati puja. It started the year my son was introduced to reading and writing (hathekhori). Now that he’s in class 1, I’ve no desire to make an exception.

Goddess Saraswati

Like every year, my father took up the responsibility of carrying out the puja at home. Since last year, my son has become his self-proclaimed assistant, and I’m reduced to a mere audience at home. The enthusiasm was a bit on the higher side this year since my husband could manage a day off from his hospital duties.

My father and his tiny assistant

After fulfilling the rituals of worship, prayers, and pushpanajali, we couldn’t resist overeating the prasad called bhog in Bengali. From luchi, dum aloo, suji in the morning to khichdi, labra, beguni, and chutney in the afternoon, we ended up with an overdose of the delicious bhog.

The phase of preparation

His books, notebooks, pencils, and even the laptop were kept at the feet of the deity to seek the blessings of the Goddess of knowledge. Thus, the kid didn’t have to come up with another innovative excuse for not studying. It was a no-study or workday for all of us, and as a family, we relished this time for fun and bonding.

The ritual continues

I hope and pray for the Goddess to bless the world with wisdom and knowledge so that we make the right choices for ourselves and the generations to come.

Home, greenery, nostalgia, and a child

A child and his curious love for nature

I grew up in Berhampore, the only place I call home. The rest are only residences. I spent countless afternoons reading books as Ma spoke fondly of more new plants in her garden. Neither Baba shared her enthusiasm, nor I inherited her love of plants, flowers, and nature. Her garden misses her warmth, care, and love as much as we feel its absence in our daily lives.

Last afternoon, I came home from my in-laws’ house in the same town. The kid couldn’t wait to spend the weekend with his grandfather, who he calls Dadan. Today, something unusual happened. The kid spent this morning gazing and querying about trees and flowers. He refused to move away, mesmerized by the greenery. A decade after her demise, she has her successor in her six-year-old nature-loving grandson. If only I could turn back time and make them meet, the boy and his Dimma would’ve made a perfect team.

Battling sickness and celebrating moments in September’21

I’ve been unreachable and unresponsive for quite a while now. What started as a ligament tear in the knee 1.5 months ago was diagnosed as a probable case of early osteoarthritis some weeks back. Unfortunately, the blood tests, X-Ray, and MRI reports led to a more complicated scenario. While I’m trying to stay brave through this turbulent phase, pretending to find humor in living with pain as a constant companion, it’s both scary and depressing. I’ve stayed away from social media for a while now while fighting this personal battle.

Swollen fingers led to a no-writing phase for almost a month. It’s both frustrating and depressing. Yet, for once, I didn’t fret over the lost time and opportunities. Instead, I focused on reading some delightful books and treading on the path to recovery. It’s a long and slow process, but I’m not letting it affect my resolve to return to normalcy soon.

Birthday celebration of the kid

Amidst such a gloomy ambiance, we decided to celebrate my son’s sixth birthday with our families at my husband’s ancestral home yesterday. He was basking in the love of his grandparents on his special day. The look on his face was priceless. It’s so difficult to believe that the kid is growing up so fast. Wasn’t it just yesterday that he was born?

Surprise gifts from us

On 13th September, my blog completed four years. It’s been an incredible journey so far, and I only hope it gets better from here. I extend my heartfelt gratitude to everyone who chose to be a part of my journey.

October is the month of Durga Puja, and I can’t wait to restart my writing journey. But enjoying the festival with my family tops my priority list this year. Until we meet again, take care and stay safe.

A special birthday celebration this year!

The year was 2011. I turned thirty on 29th May and was about to get married in three weeks. I had taken a week off in April for the engagement (ashirwaad, as we call in Bengali), and had applied for 2 weeks’ leave in June for the wedding. So, the birthday celebration was restricted to office colleagues and a couple of friends in Mysore. When I spoke to Ma that afternoon, she insisted that I buy a new set of clothes for my birthday. I laughed it off, saying that I was already getting an ensemble of clothes for my wedding. That was the end of the conversation, or so I thought.

On the day my husband and I left our hometown to begin a new chapter as husband and wife, Ma handed me a new salwar kameez set. During the peak rush of wedding preparations, Ma and Baba hadn’t forgotten my birthday gift. Little did I know that it was going to be my last birthday gift from her. In five months, her love and gifts became a memory for my survival.

A special birthday celebration this year

In the last decade, I’ve restricted my birthday gifts to usually books, journals, pens, cakes, or items related to my writing journey. I never accepted a dress for my birthday. But this year, I made an exception. When Baba asked me to purchase something of my choice, I asked him to buy me a new dress. It took me a decade to get over the fact that Ma would never coax me to get a new dress for my birthday again. Besides, 1.5 years of the pandemic taught me that it is essential to savor every moment with those who mean the world and hold on to them as tightly as possible.

The gifts from the child

Amidst all the gifts, the kid gave me the most thoughtful one. While drafting the second novel, I wrote the plot, updates, and scenes in a journal simultaneously. By the time I sent the story to my literary agent, I reached the last page of the journal. While I got a few amazing notebooks/diaries as gifts, the child made his father search for an identical journal and pilot pen sets so that I feel happy and write a story for him next.

Notebook lover

Tender moments and thoughtful gestures like these make me believe that we still have hope left in the world.

Stepping into the last week of the MFA in creative writing course

A year back, I posted my first assignment for the MFA course on this day. A couple of days ago, I submitted the last write-up required to meet the credit criteria to complete the one-year creative writing course. Next week, I will have an MFA added to my M.Sc. and MBA degrees. But this journey is much beyond earning a certificate.

When I discovered Writer’s Village University through one of my friends, I had started questioning the rationality of pursuing writing as a full-time profession. I had trashed two manuscripts written with the intent of publishing one of them as Raya Ray’s second case.

WVU taught me kindness and compassion. I discovered a supportive writing network in a virtual world. I unlearned to learn writing like an enthusiastic teenager. I finally understood the impact of constructive criticism.

My writing corner

The last ten months haven’t been easy for anyone since the pandemic bringing our lives to a standstill. For weeks, it was just me and my son trying to adjust to the fact that we can meet his doctor father only once a month. While I am immensely grateful to my father and my in-laws for their support during this phase, it is writing and written words that kept me afloat. The turbulence in my mind found a way out through typed words on my screen.

While I have chosen to continue my association with WVU, I have decided to get back to writing beyond my class assignments from this month onwards. The revived state of my writing desk is the first step towards a new beginning of my renewed writing journey.

6 months of ‘Deal of Death’ on Amazon with a couple of new stellar reviews

My debut detective thriller ‘ Deal of Death’ completes 6 months of getting published on Amazon and it is a delight to discover two wonderful reviews by two writers par excellence, Piyusha Vir (who’s also a best-selling author) and Esha Chakraborty.

Review by Piyusha Vir

If you have not read this fast-paced detective thriller introducing private investigator Raya Ray, you must grab a copy HERE. It is sure to make your weekend more interesting.

Review by Esha Chakraborty
Review by Esha Chakraborty

The pandemic has become a difficult time for us as a family. I have a bunch of classes lined up in the MFA course this month, the kid is trying to cope up with the pace of the online classes while my husband is tied up in delivering his duties as a doctor. The situation makes it tough for me to balance blogging with mandatory writing and personal responsibilities. I haven’t been able to publish more than 2/3 posts after April  (my apologies for that!) but I am hoping for better progress in the coming months.

The copyright notice
The copyright notice

Last month, a fellow blogger brought to my notice that the site cryptocitynews.com has been blatantly republishing the same content as my website without seeking any permission from me. Despite the copyright notice clearly mentioned on my website and my warning comments on the posts there, they haven’t taken down my posts. So, if you see any of my posts on their site, please feel free to call them out. A lot of effort goes into creating, editing, and publishing posts on my site and it is unethical to republish my work for their vested interests.

I hope all of you are staying safe and following adequate precautions for us to collectively overcome this crisis. Take care and I will see you again with a new topic very soon.

 

November numbness – when grief knocks at the door

Eight years ago, life was almost picture prefect. I was heading one of India’s leading Pvt Sector Bank branches in Mysore, Tanmoy and I had been married for 5 months after knowing each other for 12 yrs and he had shifted to Mysore by taking a sabbatical from his medical profession to pursue MD.

That year, I had visited Berhampore to celebrate Durga Pujo after ages. Two days at my parents house and two days at my marital home was how we had workedout the schedule and pujo couldn’t have a better arrangement. Ma looked quite fragile but that was justified since she was recovering from weakness due to a low hemoglobin count. A change of place was the need of the hour. So we decided to surprise my parents by booking their tickets to Mysore for Dec’11.

The day we left Berhampore in October, she had been crying nonstop. But she was prone to getting sentimental every time I went back to college or work after a vacation. Little did I know that  her tear stained face trying to act brave for the sake of her daughter was the last time that I would see her. On the night of 11th Nov 2011, she was admitted to a private hospital in Berhampore with complains of pain in the abdomen. She was kept in the ICU as Baba and my marital family ran around trying to figure out what might have happened.

Ma
Ma

Sitting thousands of kilometers away, Tanmoy, who probably was the only one who understood the gravity of the situation, kept coordinating with the doctors while I was trying to get a car to take us to Bangalore airport the next morning and book the earliest flight to Kolkata. That night, we understood the meaning of ‘fear’ of losing a near one.

Continue reading “November numbness – when grief knocks at the door”