Month: March 2023

Candle Making Wax Made Simple

The more you learn about all the different types of candle making wax available to you today and the nuances involved in working with each of them, the better candle maker you will become. From budget-friendly paraffin wax to natural beeswax, exotic gel wax, palm wax, or eco-friendly soy wax, there are plenty to choose from. Having the knowledge of the pros and cons between the different types, and how best to work with each of them will only enrich your candle making experience and expand your product line.

Having so many choices available means that you have a variety of candle making waxes to make your candles exactly what you and your customers want them to be.

Natural Candle Making Wax

The latest boom in the candle industry has been all natural waxes. As the economy starts to realize the carbon footprint that we are leaving on our environment, many consumers are beginning to buy more “green” or, “earth-friendly” products – and candle making wax is no exception. While all natural waxes, are “all the rave” it is still important to know where your wax is coming from and how it was obtained.

The “Not-So” Earth Friendly Natural Candle Wax

For example, palm wax, became very popular not long ago, so popular in fact, that countries such as Malaysia and Indonesia began clearing out natural rain forests to make room for palm plantations. Fortunately the World Wide Fund for Nature created RSPO, regulating the palm plantations and how palm is harvested and produced. This was a wise move, and consumers were relieved to see the change, as animals were being endangered such as the orangutan, rhino, and the Sumatran tiger.

Eco-Friendly Soy Wax

But not all natural candle making wax has had such a controversial reputation. The soy candle has been a huge success in the candle industry and sales continue to sky rocket. Soy is a natural product grown in the form of beans. Because soy beans are a renewable resource, and are mostly grown in the United States (mostly Illinois, Iowa, and Indiana), they make an ideal choice for consumers seeking a greener initiative. It is also the one candle making wax that can safely be melted in the microwave!

Natural Beeswax

Another popular type of wax for making candles that is on the slightly more expensive end of the spectrum is beeswax. Beeswax, like soybean, is all natural and also has a very lovely smell, a fantastic burning quality, and a unique texture that allows you to make beautiful candles without even needing to work with dangerous heating sources. This is a great candle making wax for introducing children to this hobby.

Exotic Gel Wax

Then there is gel wax, which is not really even a wax at all, at least not in the “true” sense of the word. Gel wax offers the candle maker many creative options due to its transparency properties, such as suspending objects in the clear gel or making candles that resemble drinks. The creative options are limitless with gel wax, but it comes with a price. Gel wax requires the most caution when working with as it is the most dangerous of the candle making wax types.

Making Palm Wax Candles – 7 Things You Must Know!

Have you made candles before but are now thinking about making palm wax candles? There are a few things you need to know before you start. This information will help you to make a safe and quality candle.

1. AIR HOLES Whether you are making pillar or jar candles, you must ALWAYS poke for air holes during the cooling process. When palm wax cools it forms a layer on top while the middle is still liquid. Air is usually trapped in that liquid and it makes bubbles in the wax. Those air bubbles form around the wick or wick pin (if you are making pillars). Those air pockets can cause problems when the candle is burning. When the melt pool reaches down to one of those pockets, the melted wax drains into the pocket and exposes more of the wick. If you have a large pocket and it drains all of the melted wax, your burning wick will be out of control. The candle is burning fine one minute and you leave the room only to come back to a huge flame. I am not saying that every palm wax candle you make will have bubbles, but it is not worth taking the chance. You must poke holes when a top layer has formed and the wax is starting to get cloudy. Timing is everything in this process. You do not want to wait too long to poke holes. It does not matter what you use to poke the holes as long as you mix the juicy slush enough to be sure all bubbles have risen to the surface. Poking holes in the wax is a time-consuming process, especially when you are making hundreds of candles. I believe that this is one of the reasons why you do not see palm wax candles being made by the large candle companies.

2. CURE TIME I have tested several hundred fragrance oils from over 30 different manufacturers/distributors. I can tell you that if a fragrance oil is going to have a good hot throw when lit, it will usually have a good cold throw. If you cannot smell any cold throw after 24 hours, chances are pretty good that it is not going to have much hot throw. I have never experienced any improvement in fragrance by waiting days or weeks. Remember this is not soy wax. This big difference with palm wax compared to other waxes is that it will get noticeably harder over time. Do a test and you will see. Make three candles without fragrance oil or dye. Make candle #1 and let it sit two weeks. After two weeks, make candle #2. Wait another 2 weeks and make candle #3. When candle #3 is totally cooled, burn all three with the same type/size wick and you will see the difference. This is very important to know because if you wick the candle without taking the curing process into consideration, you will surely wick it too small. I believe that a month after making is a good time to start trying to figure out the perfect wick size. There is nothing wrong with making a candle and burning it right away. You just won’t get the longest burn time that you could have if you let it cure. If I am testing a particular fragrance, I do burn the candle right away. If the fragrance is OK, then I make more test candles to cure so I can get it wicked properly. There is no sense in waiting a month to let the candle cure if the fragrance is not what you are looking for.

3. COOL DOWN How you cool your candles is also something that is important to making beautiful palm wax candles. The slower you cool the wax after pouring, the better the crystalline design your candle will have. I would recommend testing on this issue. You can get a beautiful design without doing anything. You can pour your wax into a room temperature jar or mold and get a nice results. I would try heating the jar and molds and see if it looks better to you. Also, you could cover your jars and molds to hold the heat in. Put something insulated under your candle (like a thick book or magazine) because it will help with even cooling. Your final product will show if it had uneven cooling. It really is a matter of how much attention you want to pay in trying to get the best crystallization on your candles. Just so you know-if you pour melted palm wax into a cold or frozen jar/mold, you will not have any crystallization at all. It will look like soy wax.

4. FRAGRANCE OILS Be prepared for the fact that some fragrance oils will not work in palm wax. I fairly good rule of thumb is that if it works in soy, it will work in palm. Many places that sell fragrance oils usually state whether they are compatible with soy. For every 10-15 fragrance oils you test, be prepared to have maybe one that works great. Again, this is my opinion and what has been my experience. You might experience something different. Be prepared to test and test. You will know when you have a winner. Your candle will smell awesome! I would start with 1 oz. of fragrance oil per 16 oz (1 pound) of wax. I wouldn’t worry about getting a digital scale so you can measure 1 oz (weight) of fragrance oil. Just get a shot glass and measure 1 oz. (volume). It will vary with the actual weight of the oil but not enough to worry about. If the candle smells great and performs good, go with it. Palm wax has the ability to hold more oil. If you plan on making large amounts of candles, then I would consider getting a scale and doing it the other way.

5. BURN CHARACTERISTICS Palm wax is a hard and brittle wax. It does not get soft and bendable when heated like paraffin wax. If you dropped a palm pillar on the ground it would dent and crumble. Let me save you money and time trying to find the perfect wick to burn in your candles. Wedo is a company from Germany that makes wicks just for palm wax. The CSN series wicks can be purchased at several places online. Palm wax is tough on wicks and will reduce a good flame to almost nothing within an hour. I have boxes full of wicks that were suppose to be the best and “work great with palm”. Go with the CSN line. They really allow for a clean burn that is almost required from an all natural wax. Remember that wicks in palm wax burn down then outward. Palm pillar candles pose an interesting challenge. Making a self consuming palm wax candle is even harder. Wick too small and it tunnels and barely burns half the wax or if you wick too large it blows out the side and wax goes everywhere. Let’s assume you wick it to have a melt pool a quarter of an inch from the edge, you are relying on everything being perfect. You can’t control whether the person will burn the candle for 10 minutes or 10 hours. Will the candle be level? Will there be a breeze? What if the wick is never trimmed? All of these factors can change the way a candle burns even if you have it wicked properly. Factors like these can make a precisely wicked pillar candle into a candle that has a blow through after only a few hours. Also remember tunneling flames are not attractive in a thick diameter candle. The candle will not glow and you will hardly notice the candle is lit unless standing over it. Bottom line you have to wick the pillar with reasonable consideration for variations in burning. Most people light candles and forget about them until they blow them out. Just a thought.

6. MIXING WAXES Combining other waxes with palm wax can create some interesting results. Remember that the more you add other waxes to palm it will reduce the crystallization accordingly. If you are going to attempt mixing enough wax to eliminate poking holes, I would make enough test candles to really see and be confident that the air pockets are eliminated. I would cut the candle length wise along the wick.

7. FURTHER INFORMATION One of the most important things when making candles is to remember that any changes you make can alter how a candle performs when burning. Adding or changing the amount of fragrance oils, dyes or additives can have noticeable differences when burning. Always take notes! You will never remember everything. Palm wax is my favorite wax because of its performance. It can be a headache working with it, but in my opinion, it is worth it. Hey, if everybody was doing it, it wouldn’t be fun. Happy testing.

Survive the Recession – Business Ideas and Recession-Proof Tips For the Small Business Owner

You can thrive in a slow economy! Ask leaders and consultants about recession-proof businesses and you get examples that go far beyond the inevitable death and taxes-related occupations.

But most are also quick to point out that any business can be vulnerable to an economic downturn and any business can take steps to protect itself from a financial roller-coaster ride. “To protect against a recession, a business needs an inventive, flexible team that learns together, practices competitive intelligence together and collaborates together.” said industry consultant and analyst Steve Koss, who specializes in the business of large stadiums and other sports and entertainment venues.

But what do you do to protect your bottom line if you don’t have a naturally recession-resistant business? Besides focusing on your current marketing niche, you may follow the trend of many small business owners by diversifying where your income is coming from. Use your downtime to build a ‘business within the business’. Offering a new service that can be handled online, such as Internet Marketing, can make the best use of your time and build an income that has proved more stable during a recession.

Tom Mulhall, who was an accountant in Chicago for 15 years before opening a small luxury guest resort nine years ago in Palm Springs, says some of the same tricks that inoculate a business like his from economic downturns can help any business. When asked how to recession-proof a Chicago-area business, Mulhall said: “If you are in retail, diversify. If you’re in the suburbs, promote ways to encourage Chicago business, and vice versa. If you are a brick and mortar business, develop an on-line business.” Denise O’Berry gives four general guidelines to help any business keep going and growing even in hard times. “Focus on customer loyalty and retention, minimize debt, involve employees and be visible to your customers, your employees and your community,” said O’Berry, president of The Small Business Edge Corp. in Tampa, Fla. “Success in business is a lot about who knows you and what your company does. Make sure your marketing and public relations is done consistently; don’t just market when business is slow.”

H Marshall Gardiner – Hand-Colored Photographs

H. Marshall Gardiner (1884-1942) was born on September 18, 1884 into a photographic family led by his father, W.H. Gardiner. Apparently some sources list his first name as “Harry“, other sources list him as “Henry“. Born in Windsor, Ontario, Canada his family immigrated to the United States circa 1890. Once the family was settled W.H. Gardiner opened two photographic studios, one in Detroit, Michigan during the winter months and a second at Mackinac Island, Michigan during the more tourist-oriented summer months. Recognizing the potential of Florida’s rapidly growing tourist trade, around 1894-95 H. Marshall Gardiner moved with his family from Detroit to Daytona, Florida which proved much more accommodating to the family’s photographic business during the colder winter months.

H. Marshall Gardiner learned many of his photographic techniques from his father prior to going out on his own at a relatively early age. Whereas his father generally used wet collodian negatives, technology had advanced to where H. Marshall Gardiner was able to use gelatin dry plates in his earlier years. And in the later years he was able to utilize the less expensive and much more convenient roll film.

Another very important lesson Gardiner learned from his father was that one of the keys to operating a successful photographic business was to set up shop in a tourist resort. Early in his career Gardiner traveled to Bermuda. There he shot a series of beautiful Bermuda scenes that he hand-colored and sold to the Bermuda tourist trade. Sold there over a considerable period of time, these Bermuda scenes provided a nice revenue stream as the years went on. They proved so popular that we have even seen some with pre-printed (vs. hand-signed) signatures suggesting a significant-enough sales volume to justify the considerable expense of pre-printing mats.

Around 1910 he first traveled to the island of Nantucket, just off the coastline of Massachusetts’s Cape Cod. He was around 26 at the time and the year-round population of Nantucket was just over 2500, not nearly enough to sustain a photographic business for the entire year. On Nantucket Gardiner opened a joint Photography and Art Supplies Store. Working as Nantucket’s exclusive agent for Eastman Kodak, his business expanded to include the island’s only photo-finishing service. However, with such a small year-round population, even the addition of a Gift Shop to compliment the hand-painted photographs, general portrait & photographic services, and art supplies couldn’t sustain him on Nantucket year round.

So during the winter months he helped with the family’s photographic businesses in Daytona and Mackinac Island. And upon his father’s death in 1935, Gardiner took over the family business in Daytona on a full-time basis.

H. Marshall Gardiner was married twice. His first marriage was to a Nantucket “Macy” who was a descendant of one of the founding families of Nantucket. She died after eight years of marriage and he then married Bertha Coffin Chase, a descendant of another Nantucket founding family.

H. Marshall Gardiner’s hand-painted photographs are very similar to those by Wallace Nutting and the other leading New England photographers. That is, most are matted, usually on white mat board having a platemark indentation around the image, signed “H. Marshall Gardiner” lower right beneath the image, and titled lower left beneath the image. And most are framed in thinner frames, also in the style of Wallace Nutting.

From the perspective of a hand-colored photography collector H. Marshall Gardiner produced works in three primary locations…Nantucket…Florida…and Bermuda. And the desirability of Gardiner’s work with collectors generally ranks in that order.

H. Marshall Gardiner’s Nantucket hand-painted photographs are undoubtedly his most desirable works. Money generally lives on Nantucket and both full-time and part-time residents, as well as visitors and tourists, love to collect Gardiner’s hand-painted Nantucket photographs. Scenes with buildings and people are often the most desirable. Seascapes and location-specific Exterior scenes are also highly collectible. His more generic Exterior scenes are probably the least collectible of his various Nantucket views. Although for a short period of time around 2000-2002 prices were topping $1,000 for the rarest Nantucket scenes in the best condition, the high-end market has softened somewhat and today the better Gardiner Nantucket scenes will more commonly bring in the $250-$500 range. Apparently the Gardiner Nantucket market on eBay was driven by only a small handful of collectors and, once they either acquired a desired title or dropped out of the market, top prices started to fall back into line. More common Nantucket titles and those in damaged condition can bring considerably less.

Gardiner’s Florida hand-painted photographs are becoming increasing collectible to both hand-painted photography collectors as well as general-line Florida collectors. Most of Gardiner’s Florida scenes are more generic (palms, coastlines, hanging moss, streams, sand, etc.). Location-specific pictures will generally bring stronger prices than will the more generic Florida scenes and you can typically expect Gardiner’s Florida hand-colored photos to bring in the $100-$250 range.

And his Bermuda scenes, although the least collectible of the three primary Gardiner categories, are still highly prized by collectors. However, since we have seen fewer “Bermuda” collectors than “Florida” or “Nantucket” collectors, prices for Bermuda scenes will generally run $75-$150 at our Auctions.

Gardiner’s postcards are also widely collected. Unlike his hand-painted photographs which can command a premium price today, his Nantucket postcards are much easier to locate and are much more affordable. And if you like the photography of H. Marshall Gardiner, you will be able to find considerably more views in postcards than in hand-colored photographs. Most of Gardiner’s postcards were produced by the Detroit Publishing Company using their “Phostint” patented printing process. Although some B&W postcards may be found, his most popular and numerous postcards are color. Generally H. Marshall Gardiner postcards will bring $2.50-$10.00 each although certain ones may bring somewhat higher prices.

H. Marshall Gardiner died on December 4, 1942 and is buried on his beloved Nantucket

RECOMMENDED READING: For further information on H. Marshall Gardiner we would refer you to a book by his daughter, Geraldine Gardiner Salisbury titled H. Marshall Gardiner’s Nantucket Postcards: 1910-1940.

Square Business Cards – Good Idea Or Bad?

Each and every day, entrepreneurs, job seekers, freelancers, employees, and executives hand out business cards. It happens in offices and on the street… during chance meetings and networking events… in between friends, new associates, or newly united strangers.

With all of these cards being exchanged, it’s very important to have a business card that stands out from the pack — one that grabs attention the instant it’s placed in the palm of someone’s hand. After all, there’s nothing worse than making a first impression with a dull and drab card.

Perhaps the easiest way to stand out is to have a business card that doesn’t look or feel like all of the others.

Enter the square business card.

Square business cards instantly stand out due to their shape. It’s almost impossible, in fact, to be handed a square business card and NOT look at it before you put it in your pocket. That alone can make it a better marketing tool than other, more typical cards.

Another benefit of square business cards is that they offer extra space for content. Considering more content equals a greater opportunity for selling yourself to prospects, employers, or referral sources, that can be a big advantage.

So are square business cards all good? Are they an automatic brilliant idea that anyone and everyone should be using?

Of course not.

The thing is, standing out visually can be accomplished in so many ways. There are 3D, plastic, translucent, metal, edible, die-cut, embossed cards… and countless other eye catching attention-grabbing possibilities. Square business cards are but ONE way to do it, and what’s right for one person is certainly not right for everyone.

When you consider that the atypical shape may make storing your square business card more difficult (in a stack of others, or in a business card book, for example) it may not necessarily be the most convenient. And as for the benefit of added space to tell your story… well, fold over cards offer that benefit as well, but they can retain a typical shape as well.

The bottom line is that square business cards will be a great way to stand out for some — and not right for others. It really does depends on what you do, where and to who you distribute your cards to, and the concept you have in mind. If a square design seems right — go with it. It’s certain to stop your recipients in their tracks, giving you ample time to make that big and lasting impression!

A Journey to Remember, a Short Story, Part 1

Vacations always get over sooner than one realizes.

Our vacation is over and has come to an end. But the point of fact is, even to this day Strong, Arindya and Sati couldn’t take this in their stride even as it has driven them furlong into the realm of mortifying nostalgia. Nothing can now bring them back to the real world, or so it seems.

Naturally, to be able to get away from the grime and tussle of life in the city is a jubilant feeling like no other, thought Arindya, himself forlorn in deep nostalgia. Alas, another vacation wasn’t anything nearer to happening anytime soon, so therefore learning to live with it, not surprisingly, is hard enough. But that’s another story though, for another time.

Not satisfied with a nice full week’s fabulous expedition, they were still craving for more. Such was the torrent of their newfound addiction. Arindya’s college buddies Strong and Sati corroborated having come across the same alluring feeling that never let go of them even after the precious trip taken all those years ago – a little more than a decade ago – is now far behind them, lodged in the labyrinths of their collective memory. I guess good friends all think alike.

Our journey, The-Three-Musketeers’ journey, had turned out to be the most special mention of our lives. The journey that we undertook more than a decade ago, at the start of the new millennium: 2001, has always been a high-point of our collective remembrances. We often find ourselves chatting away over cups of hot tea and pakoras, and sitting lazily in the wicker chairs on the sultry terrace bathed in dusky evening moonlight cascading down upon us, and tenderly recalling those wonderful, younger days of our lives.

Burning Driftwood

All the highs and lows of my life’s first friends-only vacation came into my nightly dreams like burning driftwood that always remained aglow. The glowing embers of memories kept on burning in my heart as the early morning sky began to rescue its warm, sweet, hopeful Sun from the mystery pools of the dark night. A new dawn of life then shines upon the horizon ending its nightly escape from the clutches of unrepentant darkness. Golden memories are like warm glowing embers that settle inside the spaces of your heart.

If not for the endless days and nights of consternation that went into planning our first outing – a chance at as they say ‘getting away from it all… ‘ – to get away from the daily grind or routinely boring sort of sclerotic lives we were living, than we would have found ourselves slowly seeped out of life and hung up to dry like washed linen on a wiry receptacle of juvenile delinquency. Thank God we saved ourselves from turning into lazybones and just do nothing. Getting to be peripatetic is such fun.

For Strong, Sati (our very own Kumbhakaran!) and Arindya things were not looking up bright nor were they really leading ship-shape lives. But at long last, when things began falling into their rightful places, they struck wanderlust and simply packed and moved. We sung together in our throaty voices, emulating the mellifluous voice of Kishore Kumar, our made-for-the-occasion friendship song while travelling all the way towards finding freedom and abandon:

To be one with the world…

We are in heaven…

In the lap of Mother Nature…

We are in heaven,

O sweet feeling…

(Arindya wasn’t aware of what was to come upon him when after he returned home from a life altering journey to Nashik. The three wanderlusts have travelled to Aurangabad, Ellora, Nashik, Tryambakeshwar and Shirdi.)

In my heart of hearts, I knew this is it. The beginning of one of those things that maketh a friendship last long, for life long. The vacation was probably meant to do that. We were known to be best of friends and we wanted to give it a touch of emotional appeal: a fine companionship fetching its own little permanent space in our hearts, for memory keepsakes. And that’s what exactly has happened besides Arindya’s falling in love with an elegant stranger.

Speaking of myself, I would say it was our one great outing, more of a pilgrimage to be sure, that had washed up ashore something of a philosophical musing which, oddly, to this day, is still quaking in my unaccustomed heart. In fact, it never let go of me ever. It still quakes inside me. Like a chronically emotional guy I would constantly have myself believe that ‘things’ have ‘changed’ and that there’s no way to find out whether it was for the better or for worse; even as it went on to carve a secret alcove in my private life. Why worse? Because I knew for a reason that my journey, especially from Shirdi to Hyderabad, would turn out to be extraordinarily heart-wrenching for me and I’ll have to live my life heart-broken. So here goes the tale.

All love stories have one thing in common; you have to go against odds to get there. For me the temple town of Tryambakeshwar was the greatest allure of all my life’s worth could hope to get honoured with. So great was the sweet atrocity of the lost love that Arindya thought a tell-all memoir was all that was left to do and relive those moments all over again. His sense of loss, his seemingly decadent life was waiting to be relieved for the purposes of getting it written and ultimately retold in a manner that would bring him some kind of relief. To unburden. You know, the worst feeling in the world is when you know that you both love each other but still you just can’t be together.

That Thing Called Love

Yes, you said it right. Indeed, it was love at first sight! Or was it a false alarm? Or was I being a darnedest fool? Didn’t I have ever had a proper handle on the two thinly-veiled, albeit different, paroxysms: Infatuation or Love? Turns out, I never did. I never knew it clearly enough though, not then, but surely, now I do know. An idea can change your life. But ‘change’, a brooding change at that, (if not the real Love itself) can make a hostile bid on your way of life! A thing of beauty is a joy forever and I have lost ‘something’ on my return trip back home and I am left undone. I know not what to do, how to do in order to be able to get it all back into my life. This is a mystery (I simply call as ‘change’) which failed to warm up to me with any evidentiary feeling of what it has ‘changed’ after all. I am unable to place that thing properly amongst the bare necessities of my life, but am feeling it all right in the empty center of my being with a great sense of remorse.

Is it a kind of passion that strangely afflicts lovesick puppies all the time? Or is it something to get serious about and needs a little personal scrutiny? Was it love? Or was it supposed to be a plain human reaction after all that rushes up your psychic mind some kind of hormonal hara-kiri when you see a beautiful face, a thing of beauty? Whatever it was, it surely came by slowly and beautifully, that old sweet feeling of – I dare say – love? Oh! Is it all about that good old culprit that goes by the sweetest name in the world called Love? If it is so then it will kill me on a regular basis!

It indeed does weird and wonderful things to your heart, I strongly believe that. The ‘change’ that I was so proudly kept repeating over and over again in my mind is known by nothing else but Love. Pure and untouched. Warm and Cozy. Humble and Secure. That thing called Love slowly spread within me like wind-rippled sand in a forlorn, forsaken desert, and little by little the deeper meaning of the word got me totally baffled and confused. Afterwards, I grew very restless on account of such emotional stirrings and I knew not what to do except accept my Destiny as a one-time readymade parcel service from the heavenly counters of The God Almighty. Oh yes! I am eternally thankful for that service!

Call it thrill or the regular drill, the other side of falling-in-love coin is an unchartered territory of emotional warfare. You can deal with it if you think you really can, or else you lose your love and go home in several pieces. Your heart is felled first, always a ready victim of ‘unrequited love’ and longing, considering the circumstances.

After having lingered on such a thought-process in my mind that began materializing like a zany commotion of deep-seated melancholia, I came to realize that it was indeed the mysterious workings of the persuasive power of ‘Love’ that suggested itself by, both subconsciously and feelingly. Furthermore, the matter of such a delicate nature was so tellingly mystifying that I was finding myself shy and uncertain in equal measure to be able to get a comprehending grasp on its unmistakable magical power. I felt I have been given this evident opportunity to figure it all out, and so I will I thought.

Somewhere in my heart Love was being bucolic.

It slowly came to light in Arindya’s minds’ eye that he has been touched by an Angel; that lovely species whom one unstoppably falls in love with. And there was never a name for her, for name didn’t really matter I suppose. As if transfixed I stood there with unblinking eyes looking her way. Realizing my eyes on her, she turned towards me for a fairly long moment and looked up at me. Her eyes, lips, cheeks twinkled a bit; then knowing that I had still devoted my attention on her, her face broke into a saucy smile. After a moment or two, with a calming poise she fervently put her hands together in front of the deity praying.

The clear light of day of the afternoon Sun and the serene October air appeared to be blending together to bathe her beauty with divine loveliness. Heavens opened up their doors and windows and Gods and Goddesses assembled together to have a precious look at their loving creation; even a grant of a tiny glimpse at her would no doubt continue to reassure and comfort them of their blissful eternity and immortality. They were being jealous, apparently! And I merely an Earth-dwelling mortal dared to romanticize the lovely sight I was likewise being treated to, and standing right there transfixed I fell into a trance I never seemed to have got out of. A serious bout of daydreaming crept up my soul that completely stirred my living being! I was being as if zealously ‘guarding’ her from something I could never know of what. Gods and Goddesses? Possibly. They too were looking at her, remember?

Holy Moly! No… ! I remember Adam and Eve’s satanic mistake in the Garden of Eden before they were necked out of unceremoniously!

Indeed, I opened my heart at the main entrance of the temple to yield a precious place for her to step right in. No doubt, I treasured up her memory (including her divine angelic smile) in the deepest vaults of my unbidden heart ever since.

A Journey to Remember

A journey to a holy place can sometimes make you feel profoundly rejuvenated and transformed; especially when you find that the journey you had has rendered a new dimension of poignancy to the basic perception of your own life.

One doesn’t just go and fall in love in a temple. It doesn’t happen that way. But you can’t help it when it happens, can you? Love can subtly suggest itself anytime anywhere, whether in a temple or in a park, or in a train or in a bus. I thought to myself, in my limited understanding, that for me Love will always be something that cannot be ‘set up’ to ‘gain’ something from it, but which is ultimately intensely natural and a thing that can only be felt deep within and treasured for a lifetime. Love makes life live. Love makes you feel enormously optimistic at heart. It makes you smile secretly and satisfyingly in the assuring fact that she is the one made in heaven for you, Then again, when others see you smile without obvious reason, they think you are kind of… ‘myyaaad’. So what is Love after all?

“Love doesn’t mean to win someone,

But it means to lose yourself for someone.

It is not done by the excellence of mind.

But it is done by the purity of heart.”

The great novelist Eric Segal’s immortal lines “love means never having to say you’re sorry” conveys as much of what lovers practically feel all the time but hardly ever can utter in those very words. That’s one way of looking at it. Yet Love manages to get conveyed; if not in words then the eyes do the trick.

All this were personal definitions that Arindya gave to his newfound feelings that were compelling enough for him to freely believe in love at first sight. And this hell of a feeling was met with approval by the Angel he met at the Tryambakeshwar temple in the picturesque district of Nashik.

As apposed to Strong’s suggestion of “infatuation” that I might possibly have been a case of, I had nothing short of The Bard William Shakespeare’s lines to counter his (Strong’s) sly riposte with:

“Let me not to the marriage of true minds

Admit impediments. Love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove… “

I have believed that this piece of sonnet explains everything what Love has been, what Love is, and what Love will always be.

When does such a thing affect you? Does it affect you especially when you find yourself atop a precipice of your life and you have nothing better of your own but to claim that it was NOT infatuation? No doubt, she was an exalted species of pure feminine beauty, and I had to hanker after the girl only because of a so-called ‘exterior’ quality on her – her eye-catching beauty? No, I don’t believe so. And that’s exactly what didn’t happen to Arindya at all. People might say different things, for they are, well, people; they are meant to say things: uncharitable or appeasing. But in the end you are the only one to know for sure whether or not you were in love and what really happened to you. For me it was Love all right: Love at first sight, Love for ever and Love forever after.

He knew it was far from anything what some people never really get to acknowledge when someone happens to fall in love. Arindya was not travelling alone but he sure was feeling very lonely for the first time among his friends. He had Strong and Sati for good company, yet why does he have to want for something that was not at all his in the first place? Strong and Sati were great friends, but Arindya’s dilemma was nobody’s business but his own heart’s catch-22 situation to get around and deal with it. Does he have to draw a line somewhere considering that this complicated question, which is writ large on his face like a dark shadow, is showing no sign of leaving him alone? What does Arindya, the chief progenitor of all things immaterial, think about this entire quandary of his own making? Pushing oneself off the precipice, and end of the matter? Flat on the rocks below?

Or finding something to latch on to, setting adrift on a grand new boat of hope, against the time and tide of luckless foreboding, even tackling the normal wages of one’s daily life should become the normal course of action for him? Which one? Which goddamn one? Where is Arindya’s once-glorified “enormously optimistic” dramatic feeling gone? Cut its way off to a better soul, which was better than Arindya’s? Oh well O well, probably, it is here; it is here, somewhere, trampled. Arindya will find it. He will have to.

En Route to Tryambakeshwar via Nashik

Booking a room for us three lads at a local hotel was, thankfully, not a tricky business to deal with. During the tourist season, naturally, getting even a single room is a big trouble, but we eventually found one in a nice hotel not very far from the Maharashtra Tourism office-cum-hotel plaza on the main road. To tell you the truth, we enthusiastic bunch of all-guys travellers did get lily-livered sometimes when faced with indigenous, maddening signboards hung on hotel front offices such as “Sorry! Rooms Not Available”, “No Rooms”, “All Full”, “Houseful” or even “No Vacancy”, as if we were looking for jobs! We have been pretty much up to facing whatever challenge was popping in front of us. But we sure disliked these ‘unwelcome’ signboards where ever we spotted one.

No wonder Sati (our very own Kumbhakaran!) was the one who went to the bathroom first to bathe and spill over some cologne fragrance under his tropical rainforest-like armpits, and I and Strong smiled sheepishly at each other to resolve who would go next up! Sati’s childlike enthusiasm to always be the first one to use our hotel’s bathroom was no less legendary than Strong’s preference for window seat whether in bus or in train! I was more like a confused mute, a concerned spectator sandwiched between their ever-amusing comedy of errors (always-use-first bathroom and window-seat preferences included). Must say I hardly ever made any attempt to get out of my reverie, for watching them do their own thing in the pocket-sized, beige-toned hotel room was hilarious!

And yes, not to forget Sati’s insatiable penchant for rounding off his meal with a huge bowl of curd-rice was laughed out loud over Strong’s all-weather-always-better garam garam idly, sambar, rasam and rice preference, never mind curd-rice. I didn’t exactly dream of McDonald’s or Domino’s platters, but my mouth did remember to flood at this unexpected suggestion of a well-tasted hemlock that I have drunk not very long ago! Umm.

Before we embarked upon this journey, Strong let out a secret of his to me that if he doesn’t eat rice in the dinner, he doesn’t get sound sleep at night! I nodded: possibly! Of course, all three went out to dinner and sat in a vegetarian-only restaurant to eat a belly full of sona masoori rice.

Our first leg of journey was a long one to complete. We travelled from Aurangabad to Ellora caves and back. After a night’s intervention, we alighted from long-dead King Aurangzeb’s kingdom Aurangabad and traveled in a MSRTC (state-owned local bus service) bus to Nashik’s central bus station via several unmanned railway crossings, roadside shacks, and quiet villagers, who faithfully lived with their precious cows, hens, cocks, goats, and buffaloes and bulls, even an occasional donkey or two. I spotted several cows grazing and mooing blissfully in the grassy meadows; the hens playing with their tiny chicks in the open yards and goats braying in the vicinity of their human caretakers. The bus ride was bumpy but we enjoyed the bumps with shoulders colliding with the passengers seated next to us; we slammed, banged, crashed all at once into the front seats knocking our breaths out of our lungs, and bounced several inches off our scruffy seats before our heads bashed on the overhead bunkers pounding on our senses.

Apart from all that bumpy encounters we experienced, our bus ride to Nashik was pleasant enough. In fact, in Aurangabad, though a nice little place to visit, we hardly found any other option in the name of good inter-city bus travel apart from the one we decided upon for our journey. That was the year 2001; things might have changed a lot now. These days, when we find each and every city of our country taking a turn for good economically, old things being replaced with the new and how: city squares, shopping centers, fine dining restaurants and all coming up like crazy. I am sure Aurangabad city too had transformed itself now into a fine tourist destination that it was always bound to be.

Strong and Sati (our very own Kumbhakaran!) were jousting with each other to look at the seat occupied next to a hulking woman travelling with her fair and fine-looking daughter. They (Strong and Sati, that is) craned their heads, flashing their gazes at the object of their attention, tried several tricks up their sleeves to get her attracted to them, but all their actions came to a naught. She was far ahead in her own dream world but apart from looking at their general direction, she was, apparently, way out of their league. And Arindya, he had already gazed at her for a moment longer than necessary, tried to be really interesting and all that, but it seemed that he was met with a rebuff.

The bus ride through the countryside had us totally rattled and disheveled, but we took no notice of that. We were on a mission here and totally up and about to accomplish it, so who has the time, you know, for things that don’t matter much.

After reaching the central bus station of Nashik, we took a bus to the great Tryambakeshwar Temple. Tryambakeshwar (Tryambake�vara) is located around 28 kilometers from the urban center of Nashik, tucked away into the pacific greenery of the wonderful countryside of Nashik. The ancient Hindu temple is situated at the bottom of the Bramhagiri mountains, where the river Godavari is said to have originated from.

The first day of the October month was agog with beautiful indulgences of the blushing cottony clouds ambling across the blue expanse of the Gods above…

I still remember the shimmering countryside meadows sparkling under the veil of moon-struck light illuminating everything from the sky above. I recollect the face of a serene-faced girl with lotus-like eyes I had never seen before or ogled at. Dressed in a soft yellow salwar with tiny ashen-grey polka-dot like flowers spread all over her lovely attire that greatly embellished her graceful countenance; she looked a million bucks. Without hesitation I resolved that she might be the very embodiment of a dream-like, unheard-of Angel that hardly often do we ever get to see in other normal circumstances. It tugged and pulled at my heart when she found my eager, will-you-be-mine eyes and winked impishly. She winked her huge eye-lashes at me. At that moment my heart forgot to beat. I saw her at the Tryambakeshwar Temple offering prayers and trying to hand over her casket of coconut, red kumkum, agarbatti and yellow Marigold flowers to the Sanskrit-chanting purohit, entreating him to break the coconut and flowers be put at the jyotirlinga of the presiding deity Lord Shiva.

Leaving Tryambakeshwar was hard enough for Arindya. He realized that he has fallen in love, really hopelessly and leaving the pilgrimage town of Trymbakeshwar meant bidding goodbye, farewell, and adieu to her, perhaps forever.

While journeying back on a bus to Nashik, my plain lunatic heart began to thump furiously at the thought of not having to see her ever again, perhaps, never in this lifetime. No wonder my days of being an eternal optimist were gone. What am I to do now without even an ounce of it? What a life I have!

The chimera of optimism anyway doesn’t work in such a circumstance, does it? I had no way of knowing her, and finding her again at the same spot is a foregone conclusion even if I come back looking for her. Life doesn’t treat us that way. It isn’t that easy to get excited about. It has its own exigencies to care about first. Besides there are so many other unknowable factors that come into play, whether you like it or not almost all of them will be pitted against your wish and will. Mankind is always left in the lurch to enthuse themselves by indulging in the mucky discourses of defunct challenges and useless competition. No wonder, in a dog-eat-dog world such is the twisted fury of God’s own creation!

I can’t even expect a ‘co-incidence’ thing to take place and then somehow I come rushing back to find her. Life, it seems, has its own book of destiny to keep. The thing is a brave man makes his own destiny, but the question is: Was I brave enough to be undertaking a task of going back to Tryambakeshwar and find her – all by myself? Perhaps, I might as well just do it. There is after all a wee bit chance, an opening, for anyone who knows where to look and how to look. But Arindya could not possibly have fathomed that secret, for he was not in Destiny’s good books. If passion is what it appears to be in Arindya, then the desire to find her, to see her, to touch her, to embrace her, will always remain a desire, no matter how vaguely life leaks away thinking about her. I couldn’t believe what I was feeling for her. I was dying inside to touch her, hold her. Never will come that moment when I can get close to fulfilling it. I am not in a position, Oh! Dear Lotus-Eyed Angel, to fulfill that passionate desire of mine… It will stay that way.

Eternal passion!

Eternal pain!

Not in this lifetime, my love. Not in this Hell that I am being bludgeoned through and still managing to survive with my besieged chest full of memories. As far as Arindya’s future prospect is concerned, howsoever well-deserved or even if there was one in the first place, it had dead-ended, stopped dead in its path, prematurely. That has come to be known as his portion of sad destiny ever since!

If there is any hope to know what she thinks about our little, private rendezvous at that old Shiva Temple, I would drop everything and go rush in her general direction. On second thoughts, that won’t be necessary because I understand for the same sacrosanct reason that she understands: we have been destined and decreed to be together only in our next life, not in this one. Compromise appears to be the darker side of man’s Destiny, full of twists and turns and blind corners. Such is God’s will. Take it or leave it.

Love Is a Sad Song

I remember how the silvery white moon had shone from high above wandering somberly in the largely cloudless, inky October sky like a loving soliloquist soul, peeping at us lovingly through the tinted windows of the bus we were travelling in, wishing us a silent goodbye after we reluctantly bid adieu to the temple town of His Holiness Shirdi Sai Baba.

“I swear to you

I will always be there for you.

There’s nothing I won’t do.

I promise you,

All my life I will live for you;

We will make it through… “

Then out of nowhere a forgotten strain of an old Hindi song decanted into my mind. I was instinctively humming it aloud in my heaving chest thinking about the lotus-eyed girl I saw in the sanctum sanctorum of the great temple:

“Dil ke aasman pe gam ki ghata chayee

Ayee ayee ayee teri yaad ayee…

Teri yaad main sari duniya bhulayee

Ayee ayee ayee teri yaad aye… “

The tail-end of the journey was a heart-pounding experience for all three of us. Strong, Sati and Arindya were still awake and far away from any sign of wanting to get some sleep. All that trekking, hiking, climbing mountains and forts and circling historic temples in faraway places like Aurangabad, Ajanta-Ellora Caves, then visiting Panchavati and walking on the streets of Nashik did not bog us down. We were fatigued no doubt, but kept up our tempo in full gear. Strong and Sati were still afresh with keen energy and so was Arindya.

“Oh figure about those younger years

There was only you and me

We were young and wild and free

Now nothing can take you away from me

Even down that road before”

End of Part 1

My Days in Kolkata, A Memoir, Part 2

Of the several visits to Victoria Memorial, a couple of visits remain strongly etched in my mind. My first visit in the early 1980s with my parents has bequeathed in me a treasure trove of love and longing: firstly, a secret idea of belonging to the then undiscovered city via the grand Memorial lawns and the Alipore Chiriya Khana(Zoological Park); and secondly, a mysterious manifestation of providential love which was to stay with me for a long long time to come and which is still throbbing in my heart with its innate feeling of love and joy properly intact. But my second chance for a visit to the white Memorial came by only after more than 10 years, and that’s another story to write about. The pristine gray lakes, the manicured green lawns, the perfectly oval pebbles strewn on the walkways and the wrought iron park benches surrounding the entire park still emanate those wonderful memories of the days long gone. The place, according to me, is like a Gospel of love; an eternal book of love, in which are there unending stories about virgin love, also a sneak-peek into one’s own opportune destiny, dazzling glimpses of one’s future and to be able to profess one’s undying love for each other by putting one’s hand firmly in hers – all of it is written in gold lettering from the crack of dawn till the evening twilight, every day, and day after day. Those were the best days of my life. A flowery pink dress fluttering there in the cool summer breeze reminds me of my days past. I remember Vanessa Williams’s beautiful song: “sometimes the snow comes down in June / sometimes the sun goes round the moon / just when a chance had passed / you got to save the best for last”; I was set free there…

On a pleasantly cold winter day, I found myself sitting in the Elliot Park. It is not very far from the dazzling streets of Park Street and its much-visited bookstores and restaurants. In fact, when I climbed up the stairs of the underground Maidan metro station, Elliot Park lay sprawled on the right and I instantly knew that the park sure is one of the best maintained parks I have ever hoped to see in Kolkata. A brand new meeting point for most love-birds of the city looking to snatch up some cocooned private moments on the velvety grass. What was I doing there? Well, to admire nature’s bounty; to spot a smile or two; to catch a few breaths really and to be far away from the madding crowd. Across the park on the other side is the sprawling expanse of the historic Maidan grounds. Just yonder, the stately Eden Gardens Stadium towers over the eastern horizon and further up can be seen the breathtaking second Hoogly Bridge called Vidyasagar Setu.

I am sure the Citizen’s Park with its musical fountain just down the road towards the Birla Planetarium and the Victoria also comes in the same bracket of well-earned reputation just like the Elliot Park. I feasted my eyes on everything decorated there. From the steady march of people buying tickets to enter the park to the playful birds (including crows and sparrows) and insects (honeybees, beetles, and other revelers), the flamboyant trees, the lavish arrangement of ornate flowers and even an occasional shift in the wind trudging in a discarded plastic bag or two whirling about on the elegant grassy pastures, all serve up to ones’ pleasant senses and general well-being.

Maidan is a famous hotspot for sports, especially football. Although one doesn’t see a Bhaichung Bhutia playing football on the spacious grounds of the Maidan every day, but one finds scores of people kicking, jostling and generally reveling in the beautiful game. Hundreds of footballs are passed around. The football clubs of Bengal like the East Bengal and Mohun Bagan have come to be revered by all. These Bengal clubs have many domestic achievements under their belt. Except achieving success in one or two Olympic Games or in the yesteryear’s FIFA World Cup, the clubs have yet to conquer the world on the lines of, say, Manchester United or Chelsea clubs. That’s a long shot even before football lovers can dream about it. Cricket has IPL, but what does Indian football have? If Brazil, Argentina, Germany, England, Paraguay and others have an immense fan-following in Kolkata, then the fans’ love emanating from this part of the world sure is requited oftentimes by some internationally treasured footballers. Diego Maradona was here in Kolkata on a goodwill visit and so did Pele. They played soccer in Kolkata; inside packed stadiums. Yes, there is football in every Bengali’s blood and I am no different from my fellow brethren. Thanks to Sourav Ganguly, since the 1990s era, Cricket too managed to climb up the sport popularity charts.

I boarded an early morning underground train from Shyambazar to reach Park Street via Rabindra Sadon. Well, travelling in an underground metro is a noisy business, but no worries: The gleaming carriages snake in so smoothly into the station and glide out so effortlessly carrying the passengers. (Back in the late 1980s, riding in an underground Calcutta Metro train was very extraordinary for me an experience and it still is. The first time when I got to ride in it I was stunned, and felt instantly inadequate as a Southerner. The experience of it all was fantastic). I love the sound of the automatic doors close shut and open, and the train starts to glide. They told me that taking the Metro is an intelligent way for faster commuting in Kolkata, and so I always did.

That day after reaching Park Street station, I was headed for my Meshomoshai’s (uncle’s) office at the Plaza. Of all things, as I had readily determined, my uncle – Mr. Bhattacharjee – is going to say or rumble about by means of a free advice or two thrown in, I just knew that a couple of yum egg rolls, chow chow (probably, a moghlai dish or kati rolls were also in tow) and most certainly a couple of ice cream softies will be at his express disposal to be presented to a first-time guest like me; but that too the dishes were laid only after he made sure that he had emptied his oratory barrel, stuffed with resounding firings of his advice-quotas, on this poor uninitiated soul!

Nevertheless, I was stealthily prepared to take on the battle without getting visibly shifty in my seat and, therefore, weathered it all for the impending hope of a feast: soon to be spread out in his private dining space. Throughout his stylish advice-cum-suggestions admonitory express train, which had been already running late for over an hour inside my head, I could rather manage to shake my head up and down in mock devotion to all of that he had to say. Finally afterwards, egg rolls, ice creams and other heavenly-looking coco-pastries and misti doi were brought in on a couple of silver platters. And here I was suddenly glad to be alive and kicking and have my gourmet prospects gratefully uplifted as I binged on to my heart’s content like a hungry soul.

I never miss Oxford Book Store on Park Street to buy books. When in Kolkata, I make it a point to go there and buy loads of books from them. Their Cha Bar bistro is pretty impressive. I am greatly nostalgic about Park Street area. I spent a lot of time hanging around there; browsing through the music CDs at the Music World. I remember the front glass panes of the iconic Flury’s bistro. A little away from the 5-Star hotel The Park, the Trinca’s and the Moulin Rouge restaurants make good sense for restaurant hoppers to dine in. On my way to the huge New Market boulevard – a little far away from Park Street – where I once bought my office essentials, I once tried a very special eatery located just on the inside lane leading to the actual market place. It was a mobile restaurant serving out of an open white Trailer Van. I bought special paneer tikka and red chilly chicken kebabs spread on a plate of hot noodles. That evening, I really had freaked out eating…

One last snippet that I don’t want to miss writing about is the Salt Lake’s spanking City Centre Mall. This was one trendy address in this part of the town for everyone to be seen in; even the technology professionals who worked in the nearby Sector V area visited it and in style. I had first come to see City Centre along with my cousin Joy. With him, I explored Kolkata’s never-to-be-missed places. I remember our first visit to theDalhousie, a business district in Central Kolkata. I was simply awestruck by what I saw there: grand old palaces with high arches and stately domes, the modern multi-storied buildings reaching up to the sky above with their majestic facades in front and the not-so-spacious footpaths below. The place humbled me into an instant submission. I bought a long black and white portrait of the poet Rabindranath Tagore there from a shop’s front window. I remember the man: he was tall and sporting a long flowy beard like Tagore, selling his posters with welcoming smiles playing on his weather-beaten face. This part of the city is meant to be well-maintained, but it wasn’t. Several buildings were rather ill-maintained and others managed to be spanking new. It was amazing to see that the area was absolutely bursting with energy: with people, cars and trams all seemingly hobnobbing with each other and going wherever they wanted to go. I never knew this vibrant side of Kolkata before; I mean, I had regularly explored quite a bit elsewhere in the city, but these parts were really a pleasant surprise that I reveled myself in. The reason why Kolkata is called the City of Palaces, as I can see here, is very well justified.

We went to the iNox multiplex theatre and watched 15, Park Avenue. We knew Aparna Sen would deliver a great package again after her last movie Mr. & Mrs. Iyer, but this time the movie disappointed us and tested our patience for a bit too long; and so we left it half way and proceeded straight to dig some ice cream desserts. City Centre was special indeed. Fortunately, I remembered to buy a few souvenirs for myself. So apart from a pair of Denims and a stretchable-cotton polka dotted white shirt, I bought a fashionable Submarine jetter pen.

Back in the month of January, when a Hindi film called Rang De Basanti was released; some of our office folks – we still were very high on the new IT experience in Salt Lake’s Sector V – went to the iNox at the Mall to see the film. I couldn’t join them; a couple of others too could not go. In fact, since I had to get back travelling a great distance to reach my home and Kolkata was yet a new city for me, in terms of commuting by means of buses and trams, I had to sadly excuse myself. But I still weep a lot thinking about that missed opportunity; I knew I could have had some real fun going out with them, stretch my legs and sip on some nice Cola; and it would have turned out to be a memorable event to rejoice.

I finally went to see the film, after many months, with my cousin, not at the City Centre iNox but at the 89 Cinemas – a new multiplex nearby. I remember, we both wept like kids in the hall; in fact, it was a film we realized that we couldn’t really have afforded to miss by any chance. I’ll never forget the movie; for me, it signifies the memorable days I had spent in Wipro: a quiet affirmation of my memories and of my love and longing in Kolkata. Thank God we spent 150 bucks each to see it. Now, after so many years, when I nostalgically think about my precious Wipro experience, my heart reaches out to those days; to those fine people; to those special moments that have all deeply affected me and remained with me to this day. I wish I could travel back in time and relive that piece of my life again. Alas.

An epistle to a lost friend

Never would I have made up my mind to take that other project offer even if I had stayed back there because that would only mean that I would have to forego the chance of working sitting alongside my friends who have come to know me and cherish our friendship as I have come to cherish theirs. (Stuffs like one-upmanship, internal tug-of-wars, office politics and such like experienced in a profession never come to be of my liking.) Parallel to the Healthcare project, there was another project which was being set-up for me by my manager when I was asked to relate more on my additional skills. When I was invited to have a tête-à-tête with one of perfectly behaved senior managers, I went ahead and spoke with him in a nice interview. After we discussed about my valid need for a separation, he respectfully agreed. Had I stayed back, I would have taken up that project, but since it clearly meant that I have to be away from my colleagues and a separate place of work was to be located for me, I had to quietly decline the persuasive offer.

I just would have gladly continued working with Andy and all other colleagues, but sadly that never was to happen even after I have worked on back to back, for quite a while. I’d already made up my mind to go away. Wipro, Kolkata was truly a wonderful company to work in. I really adored their way of doing things. The managers there are very well-behaved and respectful to everyone and that is just only one of the strong points of their manpower pool. They never leave you. Their subtle acts of persuasion oblige you to reconsider your decision back from the scratch. God! I miss those moments and oh so much. Nonetheless, I had known from somewhere that… hope floats. Let’s see what does it ‘float’ for me. It seemed as if I hungered for emotional security and kept going for more. And today as I write this to you, I can’t help but feel depressed that gone are those days and gone are those moments of unending joys of working together with the ones I adored, cared and loved: remarkable people like you, Andy and a lot of others. I lost the treasure of a lifetime that would have, as I had once hoped, to last forever. Kolkata beckoned me; I went that far to be able to drape around me its warm quilt of love; around the shattered ruins of my broken heart; but only if I could hold on to its warmth… just that once… just for that while… just for that very moment, then I would have gravitated towards the warm cockles of its heart for all time to come, and never let go.

Later I met Andy. I found myself saying to him: “I am sorry… am leaving Andy”. Perhaps, he knew it that something like this would come someday, may be even faster. He could say nothing to me at that moment and his eyes betrayed him to say anything at all. Finding a little space within him, he spoke: “O don’t be sorry Albert, if you have to leave then maybe you will one day and one has to take such hard decisions in life that are sad enough to deal with in the first place, but… “ He couldn’t complete his sentence and my heart choked and I asked myself: what am I doing? His parting words were premonitory… (He gave me an alias name Albert at the workplace and calls me by that name ever since.)

It was always reassuring to see Andy every day while in office; he was such a nice person and a true friend one can infinitely be proud of. We talked and talked so much, shared jokes, or simply hung around the lush Wipro campus. He liked smoking, so I once gifted him a pack of Gold Flake cigarettes during the Bengali New Year’s Day. I bought it from a local shop in the suburbs where I stayed at my Mashi’s. That was the first time in my life I bought a pack of cigarettes for a friend from a tiny paan shop! Never have I gifted anyone with a cigarette packet before on a new year’s day, but, you know, I let myself do it this time, for I knew Andy loved the joyous taste of smoking and I guessed he would really like a swig-pack from me. But of course, I thought of other gifts such as a book or a special Watermark pen or a Zippo lighter, but I chose a Cigarette packet instead, for that was meaningful enough a gift for a smoker who smoked like a gentleman hailing from the far away hills, up in the beautiful north-east. I just presented him that and he looked at it; his face brimmed up with such delightful pleasure that even as he was so freaking out with joyous laughter his round face flushed in a pinkish white complexion. And I thought that was an awesome heart-melting reaction I ever saw.

Never was I a party to encourage smoking in my friends’ circle, but all that changed for Andy. What I saw and felt in the corridors of my office was a sort of deepening understanding of the people who’d like to smoke and revel in it and never get to worry about its deadly effects. After what I saw not just Andy but some other well-learned friends smoke and feel good about themselves, I moderated my belief system about the ills of smoking and the actual idea behind smoking. I never smoked myself; and perhaps will never be able to do that, but I do claim to know that familiar sort of castle-in-the-air feeling because since I love my hot cups of tea or coffee and can’t do without it, so I happen to agree with them who like smoking for the same kind of subtle comfort and tasteful pleasure all the way. (Yes, I jolly well know that smoking is cancerous and much more, and is different from drinking Tea or Coffee which is at best therapeutic.) The case is closed.

An honest confession: at one sweet time when Andy and I were together chatting in the balcony, I almost considered letting myself off the hook and have a smoke with him that day, but somehow I could not do it for some reason I never could come to know of. I hovered around to have a closer look at all the people who enjoyed smoking; it seemed to me – perhaps a little foolishly as one might think – that the art of smoking is obviously about a personal expression that involves style, fashion, elegance, technique, panache, élan, flamboyance and more. So, a smoker smokes his/her cigarette not because he is addicted to it (may be, a part of it) but because of his/her intense desire and to help themselves stay healthy in mind and confident by several degrees higher. Truly, I am fascinated by it but never gave in to it.

That day I came very close to having a swig. So many people gave in to it. Why didn’t I do it? I don’t know; I never held a cigarette stick in my hand before, so I didn’t want to hold it even then. Perhaps, I was inadvertently conscious of negative repercussions from such a thing; that came dangerously hither to roost in my own family backyard and things weren’t the same again for some of my own people.

It was a breather from training; Andy smoked on and I kept watching him do so by being on the ‘passive side’ of smoking. God forbid: it is so fashionable, luxurious, sophisticated, and superb! Many a times I have accompanied Andy to the smoke stalls outside the campus, and during those snatching moments I have discovered fine things about friendship and passive-smoking. No, the poor smoke stalls outside of our office don’t have any inkling as to what happens inside our educated heads concerning the dreaded ills of smoking. So please spare them. Why blame paanwallas for their spartan enterprises? If at all, then abolish smoking only when you can stop producing Tobacco at the first place! Can you (the government that is) do that? Why do you need to produce Tobacco at all if you think it is directly going to be used to make cigarettes and beedis and gutkhas? If not for smoking or chewing then what else is it used for: drugs? Does it not fuel your ISRO rockets into space? It apparently does. After all, you guys don’t forget to exploit their taxes to fund your rocket science, do you? If Tobacco is an instant evil, which it surely is (who’s saying it isn’t?) then why produce it all? Stop its production and get the results!

I know smoking kills; it’s a one-way ticket to the stinking bowels of hell and all that jazz. It is far more injurious to one’s health than one can hope to imagine; yet the way of life for many includes ‘white smoking sticks with brown ends’ with a possible addition of some other homespun beedis on the side. Somehow, I found myself telling Andy to cut his passion smoking by half or more; he really did agree with me. I realized friends and acquaintances can make a feasible difference; only just need to resort to a kind of emotional blackmail to awaken a smoker to quit smoking, and viola! He or she quits it; governments with their callow warnings don’t. Andy promised me that he would forego the pleasure of smoking just because I told him to do so!

I used to be with him like a passive-smoker whenever we took a breather from our project training. And talking about training, I’ll never forget those moments, I swear. What a good time we all had there… a blast really… those Bangla jokes, those poky situational affronts that needn’t upset anyone were delivered over many of those endless coffee sessions we had at the balcony. Coffee, tea, cardamom tea, lemon tea or whatever… gulped down during break time: I’ll never exchange them for anything else.

Andy was almost beyond words that day when he received that packet of cigarettes from me. He laughed his easy laughter. It was just a small gift, but his whole being seemed like he blushed with thousand thankyous for me and he again laughed heartily and smiled a mile wide with his brilliant white smile that he has across his axiomatic face. I felt so humbled that moment and felt overjoyed musing over the fact that one possibly could never be able to weigh his friendship in any way for anything else in life. I know we are friends forever but alas! I lost a true friend of mine in Kolkata when I came away from there. Wish we all worked and stayed that way for all time to come. Yeah if only wishes were horses! I also miss the way of life in Kolkata. I miss Wipro too much as I miss you, Andy and others. My life will never be the same again from heretofore, that I now have come to painfully understand. God bless him and everyone. And I so terribly miss you and Andy for all my words could speak…

I can’t possibly come anyway near to explaining how much I miss Wipro and Kolkata. Now in the delicate bargain of my sad feelings, I keep missing you, Andy and other friends like Tom (He is Tomaghno, you remember? short guy with long hair from our batch. Later he cut them short… at the time when I resigned in the rainy month of June. His short crop made him look rather decent) and the amiable, eternally-decent Rajorshi (He was from your batch. We became good friends later; I could not contact him after I came away to the South). I will never forget Tomoghno, Rajorshi, Andy, Mandira, Ayantika, and a couple of other beautiful folks like Bhagwati, Susmita, Ruru, and others; their voices still ring in my ears. I really am not hopeful to meet any of them except may be – by a stroke of luck – I might run into Rajorshi (because I know his place) and Andy (because we kept in touch). There were other friends too but I am no longer able to recollect their names now. There’s one name, however, that stuck with me the first time I saw her: Amrita. Tom with whom I always sat in the training knew about it. He used to roll his big eyes and stick his elbow into my ribs every time when she came in the training room for a special inputs session before I flushed a deep shade of pink in my face. Andy too would turn his neck towards me and pout his lips envyingly; he’d once said: she’s perfect for you Albert… seriously. Later, when I’d left my job on one summer night of May/June and came away to the glassy cafeteria to recoup from the pain of getting away, sitting alone, eyes liquid with hot tears, looking blankly at my plate of Paneer Sushlik in front of me, I did realize to a great degree of sadness and helplessness that the feeling was far more deeper than I had previously thought it was. What could I possibly have done to turn a new leaf in my life? Poor me! I never knew that leaving Kolkata would have me leave her as well apart from all other things I have come to care for. Alas!We all did well in the project. We had passed out of the training session one by one and hoped well for each other to stay put. It was so much fun.

I particularly remember a short guy who had a slight paunch on him; my memory fails me to recollect his name.He lived in Nagerbazar; just a couple of blocks off the Nagerbazar-Dum Dum main road. Once when we were discussing our educational pursuits, he told me that he had a master’s degree in economics and wanted to run a business house. In January ’06, we went to the Kolkata’s Boi Mela (Book Fair) at the Maidan and bought some books. In fact, I had long nurtured a dream to go to the book fair and when the opportunity struck, I never winked. I remember his amiable personality and his sincere smile, but sadly I am unable to remember his name, how much ever hard I try now.

You remember Mrinal? The guy with whom we sat together during the training, Andy was there too in the bay area as we sat among the empty cubicles. We laughed like hell that day on his brilliantly funny jokes and his way of cracking them up hilariously!!! The jokes that gave us many a tummy-aches! Mrinal spoke immaculate Bengali. Must say I have picked up a little bit of pure Bengali from him; he was too fast for me though. Guess dabbling in Politics could have been his natural calling than the grime of I.T. occupation. He seemed to play with the language just like a well-learned professional speaker or a magnificent orator. I dare say his English comes a close second to his lovely Bengali.

I remember I once felt that he turned himself into a conspicuously sophisticated person. I thought, may be, his earlier spiritedness has taken on a new colour of life which seemed to have changed quite a bit of his personality. His charming down-to-earth and easy-going temperament was gone. He had a sort of high-air about himself, which seemed slightly misplaced. Nothing wrong with that but nice guy though; but we hardly met each other after he graduated and went about handling Healthcare project work before we did. Afterwards, when our batch started the work on the same project, I hardly could see him at all. I remember his electric way of cracking up jokes and making it seem all so easy and enthusiastic. His general persona seemed really so full of spontaneity. A nerve of electric verve seemed to run through his mind and soul and every time anyone can get to feel it when talking with him. I mean, it’s very rare to have such individuals like him in our midst. The crackle of his spontaneous jokes will be sorely missed and they would be missed forever though. I never felt that good old familiar feeling ever after. They say all good things must come to an end, and this time, alas! It came to such an abrupt end. I’ll never forget Mrinal and his crackling way of speaking. It was simply too much for me to catch up with him while he spoke. I think he told me he lives in Nagerbazar, north of Dum Dum or somewhere beyond near Chiria More.

Things change so blindingly these days that I hardly like it that way, and I have little choice if it is meant to be that way, lest loving it! Saddest part of it all is: That’s life.

End of Part 2

Translation – Significance and Scope

The in-depth study of Art of Translation demands more attention not because it paves way for global interaction and offers an excellent opportunity to undergo socio-cultural survey of various languages and their literatures but also gives an opportunity to establish some kind of relevance it has in the study and area of Literary Criticism. Translation Studies can very safely be included as an important genre in the domain of Literary Criticism since translation is an art prompting to peep into the diversified lingual, cultural and literary content of a source language and thus highlighting/appreciating the essence and niceties of the literature of that particular translated language. In the context of Indian Studies, keeping in view the multilingual and pluristic cultural nature of our country,translation has an important role to play. It is through translation that we can look into the rich heritage of India as one integrated unit and feel proud of our cultural legacy. The relevance of translation as multifaceted and a multidimensional activity and its international importance as a socio-cultural bridge between countries has grown over the years. In the present day circumstances when things are fast moving ahead globally,not only countries and societies need to interact with each other closely, but individuals too need to have contact with members of other communities/societies that are spread over different parts of the country/world. In order to cater to these needs translation has become an important activity that satisfies individual, societal and national needs.

It goes without saying that the significance and relevance of translation in our daily life is multidimensional and extensive. It is through translation we know about all the developments in communication and technology and keep abreast of the latest discoveries in the various fields of knowledge, and also have access through translation to the literature of several languages and to the different events happening in the world. India has had close links with ancient civilisations such as Greek, Egyptian and Chinese. This interactive relationship would have been impossible without the knowledge of the various languages spoken by the different communities and nations. This is how human beings realised the importance of translation long ago. Needless to mentiuon here that the relevance and importance of translation has increased greatly in today’s fast changing world. Today with the growing zest for knowledge in human minds there is a great need of translation in the fields of education, science and technology, mass communication, trade and business, literature, religion, tourism, etc.

Defining Translation

Broadly speaking,translation turns a text of source language(SL) into a correct and understandable version of target language(TL)without losing the suggestion of the original. Many people think that being bilingual is all that is needed to be a translator. That is not true. Being bilingual is an important prerequisite,no doubt, but translation skills are built and developed on the basis of one’s own long drawn-out communicative and writing experiences in both the languages. As a matter of fact translation is a process based on the theory of extracting the meaning of a text from its present form and reproduce that with different form of a second language.

Conventionally, it is suggested that translators should meet three requirements, namely: 1) Familiarity with the source language, 2) Familiarity with the target language, and 3) Familiarity with the subject matter to perform the job successfully. Based on this concept, the translator discovers the meaning behind the forms in the source language (SL) and does his best to reproduce the same meaning in the target language (TL) using the TL forms and structures to the best of his knowledge. Naturally and supposedly what changes is the form and the code and what should remain unchanged is the meaning and the message (Larson, 1984).Therefore, one may discern the most common definition of translation, i.e., the selection of the nearest equivalent for a language unit in the SL in a target language.

Computers are already being used to translate one language into another, but humans are still involved in the process either through pre-writing or post-editing. There is no way that a computer can ever be able to translate languages the way a human being could since language uses metaphor/imagery to convey a particular meaning. Translating is more than simply looking up a few words in a dictionary. A quality translation requires a thorough knowledge of both the source language and the target language.

Translation Theory, Practice and Process

Successful translation is indicative of how closely it lives up to the expectations as: reproducing exactly as for as possible the meaning of the source text,using natural forms of the receptor/target language in such a way as is appropriate to the kind of text being translated and expressing all aspects of the meaning closely and readily understandable to the intended audience/reader.Technically, translation is a process to abstract the meaning of a text from its current forms and reproduce that meaning in different forms of another language. Translation has now been recognised as an independent field of study. The translator can be said to be the focal element in the process of translation. The writer/author becomes the centre, for whatever he writes will be final, and no two translators translate a text in the same way. It is genegally believed that a writer to know the intricacies of the TL in which he may wish to translate. As a matter of fact, it is not the writer of the SL text who asks someone to translate his works into the TL; it is primarily the interest of the individual translator which prompts him to translate a work into his mother tongue. A successful translator is not a mechanical translator of a text but is creative as well. We may say that he is a co-creator of the TL text. . In fact, for a translator knowledge of two or more languages is essential. This involves not only a working knowledge of two different languages but also the knowledge of two linguistic systems as also their literature and culture.Such translators have been seen to possess various qualities which we shall briefly discuss later.

Linguiustically,translation consists of studying the lexicon, grammatical structure, communication situation, and cultural context of the source language and its text, analyzing it in order to determine its meaning, and then reconstructing the same meaning using the lexicon and grammatical structure which are appropriate in the target language and its cultural context. The process of translation starts with the comprehension of the source text closely and after discovering the meaning of the text, translator re-expresses the meaning he has drawn out into the receptor/target language in such a way that there is minimal loss in the transformation of meaning into the translated language.This entire process could be graphed as under:-

Overview of the translation task

In practice, there is always considerable variation in the types of translations produced by various translators of a particular text. This is because translation is essentially an Art and not Science.So many factors including proficiency in language,cultural background, writing flair etc.determine the quality of translation and it is because of that no two translations seem to be alike if not averse.

Accommodation in Translation

Translation turns a communication in one language into a correct and understandable version of that communication in another language. Sometimes a translator has to take certain liberties with the original text in order to re-create the mood and style of the original.This,in other words is called ‘accommodation.’ This has three dimensions: cultural accommodation; collocation accommodation; ideological accommodation; and aesthetic accommodation.Accommodation is considered a synonym of adaptation which means changes are made so the target text produced is in line with the spirit of the original. Translation is not merely linguistic conversion or transformation between languages but it involves accommodation in scope of culture, politics, aesthetics, and many other factors. Accommodation is also translation, a free, rather than literal, kind of translation. Moreover, it is inevitable in practice if the translation is to maintain the source message’s essence, impact, and effect. There is an interesting saying: A translation is like a woman: if it is faithful, it is not beautiful; if it is beautiful, it is not faithful. That is to say if you want to be faithful with the text while translating you are bound to lose the beauty of the translated text and if you try to maintain the beauty of the translated text you are sure to be unfaithful with the original text.. Faithfulness was once considered the iron rule in translation process but over the years when we take a closer look, accommodation, or adaptation, is found in most published translations and it has become a necessity too since keeping in view the averse cultural/lingual/geographical/historical/political diversifications and backgrounds of various languages and their literatures, accommodation,if not compromising, is almost obligatory. Accommodation, too, has to be carried out very sensibly, more especially when it comes to translating poetry or any such text which is highly immotive and artistic in nature.For example translating poetry has never been so simple. Robert Frost once said, “Poetry is what gets lost in translation.” This is a sufficient evidence of the difficulty involved in translation of poetry. Because poetry is fundamentally valuable for its aesthetic value, therefore, aesthetic accommodation becomes an art instead of a basic requirement. A good poetry translator with a good measure of accommodation and adequate knowledge of aesthetic traditions of different cultures and languages, can be better appreciated by the target reader and can achieve the required effect.

Qualities of a good Translator

A good translator should have adequate knowledge of the SL(source language) from which he is translating into the TL which is generally his mother toungue/target language. In order to produce an accurate translation of the SL text he should have command over the grammatical, syntactic, semantic and pragmatic features of the SL. In addition to this it is necessary that he is well-conversant with the socio-cultural contexts of both the SL and the TL. A good translator should be the author’s mouthpiece in a way that he knows and comprehends fully whatever the original author has said in his text. One of the generally accepted characteristics of a good translation is that it should resemble the original text or come as close to the SL text as possible. It should appear like the original in the TL translation within the usual social and cultural settings with some minor accommodation, if necessary,of course.

Usually it is also believed that the job of a translator is a mechanical one-a simple rendering of the SL text into a TL text. But it is not so. The translator has to perform a really difficult task. It is in a way more difficult and complicated than that of the original writer. A creative writer composes or pens down his thoughts without any outward compulsion. A translator has to confine himself not only to the SL text but a host of other factors also intervene in the process of translating the TL.

A good translator must have an adequate knowledge of the subject or area to which the SL text relates so that the translator is able to capture the spirit of the SL text. If he does not have an in-depth knowledge, he may not be able to produce an accurate translation suitable for its intended purpose. For example, if you want to translate the Bible or the Gita or any other religious text, you must have adequate knowledge of those religious and theological works.

A good translator should be careful of the choices that he makes in using the TL. He should translate in the style, which is appropriate for the target audience. The style should be such that it appears to be natural and spontaneous to the TK readers. The translation in the TL should not sound alien.

A translator does need certain tools to help him out in moments of difficulty. These tools can be in the form of good monolingual and bilingual dictionaries, encyclopedias, e-dictionaries, glossaries of technical and standard works, etc. pertaining to the SL text.

A good translator must have patience and should not be in a hurry to rush through while translating any text. He should not hesitate in discussing with others the problems that he may come across. Morever, he should not shy away from conducting micro-research in order to arrive at proper and apt equivalents.

In short, a good translator should be a competent and proficient bilingual, familiar with the subject/area of the SL text chosen for translation. He should never try to insert his own ideas or personal impressions in the TL text. His objective should be to convey the content and the intent of the SL text as exactly as possible into the TL text. The job of a translator is very rewarding and intellectually stimulating

Finally,a few words(based upon my close understanding about translation study and activity) for up-coming translators and translation-lovers.To translate from one language into another has never been an easy endeavour.It is an exercise both painstaking and cumbersome and only those who have engaged themselves with translation work can realize the complex character of this Art. I have been associated with translation work for over three decades translating from English, more especially, from Kashmiri/Urdu into Hindi and back.

1-A good translator ought to be a good writer.

2-You needn’t translate everything that has been written, you need to translate the best only.

4-A good translator adjusts/accommodates and not compromises with the original text.

5-Translators are like ambassadors representing and exchanging the best of their literary world.

5-Art of translation is as old as makind, don’t you translate your thought before you speak it out? Some more suggestions:

1-Try to get into the mind of the writer.

2-Check your translation twice or may be thrice before finalizing the script. Put the original passage “aside” and listen to/read your translation with your ear “tuned in”, as if it were a passage originally written in the TL.

3-If your material is highly technical, with vocabulary that is distinctive to a discipline, it is important that the translator has at least some background or experience of that discipline. A good translator of poetry and drama may be a bad choice for a chemical engineering or biotechnology text.

4-If you have a native speaker of your target language handy, particularly one who is familiar with the subject, that person could be as useful as your teacher for final script-review. Take his assistance without fail.

A few more guide lines for the translators:

Do not try to find difficult equivalent words in the hope that this will add to the perfection of your translation.

Every language has its own punctuation rules and differ in many ways; take care to punctuate correctly.

Check your translation two or three times at the end.

Dilip Kumar Versus Amitabh Bachchan Versus Shah Rukh Khan

This seems like a more reasonable comparison right? All three were number one actors and also the most intense actors of their generations. I thought for a long time before making this comparison, as I do not want to be partial to anyone because I belonged to his generation. Nevertheless, here is a comparison I have wanted to present since my college days.

Everyone will agree that Dilip Kumar was the most gifted actor out of the three. Despite being intense he also believed in delivering controlled performances. He began acting in films in 1944 and his career spanned a period of five decades. He acted in more than 60 films and still holds the record for maximum Filmfare Best Actor Awards with Shah Rukh with 8 wins. Few people from today’s generation know that he was a versatile actor and, in addition to doing intense and serious roles that literally made him, like Mughal-E-Azam and Devdas, he also acted successfully in comedies and action films like Aan, Azaad and Ram Aur Sham. Dilip-Saab as he was popularly known rarely saw Box Office failure in his illustrious career. I would be surprised if anyone has a better Box Office record in terms of percentage of hits than him. May be Amir Khan does, but I am sure no one else does. The earlier films that established him as the proverbial tragedy king were Deedar, Amar, Andaz, Madhumati and Devdas. He also produced Ganga Jamna in 1961 and that remains his only production. David Lean, the famous British director offered him a role in the classic “Lawrence of Arabia” but Dilip Kumar declined it.

What’s more, absolutely no one has as good a record as Dilip Kumar in the roles of elderly characters. In Bollywood, where the film-life of an actor gradually declines as he grows older, Dilip Kumar continued serving up smash hits in his sixties such as Kranti, Shakti, Vidhata, Karma, Saudagar and Mashal. Dilip Kumar achieved several accolades including the Dadasaheb Phalke award in 1994 and Pakistan’s highest civilian felicitation, Nishan-E-Pakistan. He also received Padma Bhushan in 1997 and was the Mumbai Sheriff in 1980. In addition to winning the Filmfare Best Actor Award 8 times, he also received 19 nominations.

Although he has played several brilliant roles, my personal favorite remains Shakti, where as a principled father, struggling to keep his son in line, he delivered a dazzling performance and overshadowed his only serious competition – the greatest superstar of all time, Amitabh Bachchan in the role of his son. Although his role was meant to dominate Amitabh’s, he delivered a convincing performance like no other.

Shah Rukh Khan is the latest megastar carrying forward the torch of intense acting. He began his career on Television and made a brilliant film debut in a short, supporting role in Deewana. Shah Rukh has released many commercial hits in his time and, very deservingly, is called the King Khan. Some of his blockbusters such as Kuch Kuch Hota Hai, Dilwale Dulhaniya and Le Jayenge have made record business at the Box Office. Several of his films did huge business overseas, thereby making him one of the greatest Bollywood actors of all time.

After the superb debut in Deewana he went on to make small budget films until he scored the first of his several massive hits in Baazigar. His antihero in the film displayed his capacity to play villainous roles. This ability landed him another couple of roles which were huge hits, viz Darr and Anzaam. He also played a sensitive role in a small film called Kabhi Haan Kabhi Naa. Facing the nightmare of the possibility of getting typecast as a villain, he went on to deliver another hit as a conventional hero in Karan Arjun. All throughout his career he had to face competition from two other Khans- viz Salman Khan and the more serious competition of Aamir Khan. Despite having had several hits, it was in the late nineties that he finally established himself as the King of Bollywood. A plethora of hits were to follow, like Yes Boss, Dil To Pagal Hai, and Kuch Kuch Hota Hai. In the year 2002 he acted in the remake of the Dilip Kumar classic Devdas which earned him another Filmfare award for Best Actor. Later he also remade the Amitabh Bachchan classic Don. His last huge hit was My Name is Khan which earned him his 8th Filmfare Best Actor Award. Despite upcoming challenges from younger actors he remains the King of Bollywood.

Personally I liked the small budget films he did with Aziz Mirza such as Yes Boss and Raju Ban Gaya Gentleman and I think his best performance to date remains Chak De. As a tarnished Muslim Indian hockey player, he put his life into the role and delivered a brilliant performance that won the hearts of everyone. The film won many awards and was a huge commercial success. Notably he did a couple of films with Amitabh Bachchan like Mohabbatein and Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gam which did not really spark any fires although the films did well at the Box Office. Well, some sparks in Mohabbatein but nothing like the Amitabh-Dilip Kumar comparison.

Shah Rukh also produced several films out of which Main Hoon Na and Chalte Chalte were highly successful. Although you would associate him more with commercial success, he did get honored with Padma Shri in 2005. He also hosted the popular TV show Kaun Banega Karodpati following Amitabh Bachchan.

The biggest superstar of them all was the great Amitabh Bachchan. He was a force in Hindi films like no other. His angry young man films in the seventies are classics and people still watch them with awe. I have never seen any actor in Indian cinema having a screen presence as mesmerizing as Amitabh Bachchan. You couldn’t take your eyes off him. Who can forget those burning and unbelievably focused eyes and the resonant voice? I am not going to waste time in reciting his achievements here. Everyone knows them. An actor with an unbelievable range and ability to play all kind of roles with authority made him an icon that no one could compete with in the seventies. He has played all kinds of roles and won all kinds of awards but his biggest achievement remains his dominance of the Indian Film Industry in the seventies. He was called “One Man Industry” at that time and no one was able to stand up to him. It was unprecedented and will probably never be achieved again. Those revenge films from the seventies still give me goose bumps. What we are watching today is a much more mellowed person and actor although that fire and brilliance can be seen occasionally in films like Sarkar.

The objective of this article is not to show that other actors did not come close to these three. In fact several actors did, like Raj Kapoor, Dev Anand, Ashok Kumar, K L Saigal, Rajesh Khanna, Aamir Khan etc. But the best and most successful, intense actors are these three. My verdict, at the risk of being corny, is Dilip Kumar. The thespian was and is still the greatest actor of them all, with Amitabh Bachchan a close second.

The Resurrection of the Cinematic Culture in Nigeria

Films such as The primitive, Primitive Man, Buffalo Hill were considered suitable while Dr Jekyll & Mr Hyde, The Isle of forgotten sins, House of Frankenstein were considered unsuitable for viewing. The Yoruba travelling theatre group of the 60’s and 70’s is renowned for being the arrowhead of movie productions in Nigeria. They took their theatrical skills a step further to film productions using the celluloid format.

Notable filmmakers during the 70’s celluloid boom era include but not limited to Ola Balogun, Eddie Uggbomah, late Herbert Ogunde, Adeyemi Afolayan (father of Kunle Afolayan), Moses Adejumo, Ladi ladebo, and Afolabi Adesanya. Movies released during that era include Kongi Harvest, Alpha, Bull frog in the sun, Amadi, Muzik man, Bisi daughter of the river, Ija ominira, Aiye. Our founding film makers were faced with the herculean task of raising funds to produce their movies.

Nigerians further worsened the situation by opting to watch movies of occidental and oriental origin at the cinemas and exhibition centres. Chinese films with the late legendary Bruce lee thrilled us with films such as Big boss, fist of fury, while Indian films from 60’s to 70’s paraded stars such as Rajesh Khanna, Dharmendra singh deol, Amitabh bachchan, Hema Malini and recorded hits such as Bobby, Sholay, kabhi Kabhi, Dharamaveer, Amar Akbar Anthony.

The movies treated Nigerians to outstanding combat/sound and special effects, cinematography, good story lines amongst others. The founding fathers could not recoup their investments and with fewer investors unwilling to take a plunge into the dicey venture, the number of films produced began to decline. The deluge of VCRs in the 80’s provided the alternative of making movies on VHS format than on Cine. Productions turned out to be easier to make, faster, cheaper by a mile stone in comparison to the cine productions.

Cinema houses and other exhibition centres were finally shut down in the early 80’s. The 1992 rise of Ken Nebue’s “Living in bondage” brought forth the Home video industry a.k.a Nollywood, though it was debunked by late prince Alade Araomire who insisted that his movies actually paved the way for the industry. Nollywood, blossomed over the years with the telling of our stories, projecting our lifestyle, culture, local fashion, burning issues and problems affecting our society. However, the presence of over flogged themes and trippy plots, flawed scripts, choppy editing, high predictability rate, formulaic movies amongst others, have added to the declining rate at which home videos are purchased and watched. Home video thrived in the 90’s and early millennium. Foreign movies were still patronised by those who were tired of the lack lusture performances seen in home videos.

The cinematic culture was resurrected through the establishment of the Silver bird galleria (which houses the cinema) by chairman of the Silver bird group (Ben Murray Bruce). At first people thought it was a flash in the pan judging from the fall of yester years, but over time the galleria has played host to thousands of movie enthusiasts through its release of latest movies(dominantly Hollywood). The galleria capitalizes on its synergy (silver bird TV and rhythm 93.7fm radio station) and of course movie listings in Friday Vanguard and The Sunday edition of the Nation newspapers. Nollywood movies have also been accorded the same opportunity to be viewed by all.

Kunle Afolayan’s “Irapada”, Jeta Amata’s “The Amazing Grace”, kingsley Ogoro’s “Across the Niger”, Teco Benson’s “Mission to nowhere”, were among the early set of Nollywood movies viewed at the galleria. Perhaps, the booster for the film makers to have their movies on the big screen came with Stephanie Okereke’s “Through the Glass” which made N 10 million in two weeks at the galleria. This has further prompted filmmaker / producers to go for the big screen rather than the customary straight to the VCD /DVD approach. Tunde kelani’s “Arugba”, Vivian Ejike’s “Silent scandal”, Emem Isong/Desmond Elliot’s “Guilty Pleasures”, “Nollywood Hustlers” co-produced with Uche Jumbo, Lancelot Imaseun’s “Home in exile”, kunle Afolayan’s “The Figurine, araromire, Teco Benson’s “High blood pressure”, Jude Idada / Lucky Ejim’s “The Tenant” have towed the cinematic path.

Nu metro and Genesis Deluxe cinemas also exist and even the cinema halls at the National Theatre have come alive! Foreign investors can catch in on the growing profitable trend to establish cinema houses in other parts of the country. We can only hope that the cinematic culture will thrive across our Greenland and will never undergo the dearth experience of the 80’s.

Exit mobile version