Blogging = citizen journalism

God bless the concept of blogging. It has finally given the common, educated persons who are not literary experts or did not had the intentions of pursuing a career in journalism to have a platform to share their opinions, their thoughts, their point of view. This platform can be used as true citizen journalism, but the citizenship should include the entire world.

We may not be capable of creating a painting with our words like maupassant or tagore but may have some thing to say about some topic, which is related to our life, or the lives of our loved ones. Or may be we just want to share a beautiful experience, or warn others to not to repeat our mistakes.

Blogging has handed over that pen and writing pad to us, the common public of the world. The greater part of human population in the world. For the first time in human history- we have the freedom to express our opinion freely with the entire world and receive their responses. To open the window of our heart, soul and society wide, to let in air and light from the entire world.

Just like any political system, our political system too has its control over media. It may be well hidden but we all know that it is there, letters on sensitive issues are rejected, or articles on sensitive issues are rejected. Brave journalists get killed. Politics is always scared of media, the most popular weapon of public interaction, hence it tries to choke it or silence it, there is nothing surprising in that. But recently, specially after the spread of internet and communication through internet one thing has come forth that the picture has changed and a new horizon has opened to the socially aware people to come forth and speak their mind.

Blogging has become the largest weapon of spreading public awareness among the masses. People who cant become journalist but have their say about whats going on around them. They are not ready to be tormented without committing any fault any more. Nor are they interested to stay mute spectators of suffering of others.

Blessings of maturity

Aging is a process which is often looked at with dismay, a feeling of nostalgia. I feel quite the other way round. I think that aging has its own glory, own merits and advantages.

I think we grow more as we age, because it gives us inner strength and calmness. A strength and calmness which is not available when the body is young, beautiful and vibrant with energy. But age too has its own beauty. If we don’t compare our looks with people half our age, or who are as pretty as flower, we will be quite content with our looks. And the lack of physical strength is compensated with inner strength.

The more we grow up properly, the more we learn to live and love life. Accepting life and human beings and their various sides. Knowing the golden truths of world. Thus creating true bliss for ourselves and those around us.

Some simple truth dawn on us with age …….

Like, we cant change the world, we have to change ourselve in harmony to it.

If we want to be truly happy we should make our surroundings happy. Otherwise our happiness wont last long.

If we cant forgive others for petty faults we make ourselve miserable not them. Because we all have faults and get accepted by others, so, if we don’t accept others, they too will refuse us and we will end up lonely and miserable.

The bigger our heart is, the greater chances are that we will live a content life. Because love is what makes the world go round. We may not get the love from the person we loved but sooner or later this tree starts to bear fruit and we get more than we need.

Love and friendship should be cherished like God’s gift. We don’t do a favour by loving someone, people show their beauty by loving us. So we should give it its true honour. This humility will shower more love on us.

Honesty and hard work always pays in the long run. The fruits of dishonesty or robbery are quickly plucked but are tasteless and decay soon.

Bibhutibhushan

This is another author my mother taught to love. She was a big fan of bibhutibhushan bandhopadhyay, so am I, just like most of the bengalis, I first read his pather panchali and cried like a river. I first came across this book when I was studying in raisina bengali school, delhi and instantly started to dote after durga. And that girl still holds a piece of my heart, and always will. With time I started to pity sarbajaya, love indir thakrun, feel ranu’s pain. But my first affection was for durga. I have read this book atleast fifty times and can read it again with great pleasure.

A simple story written by a fantastic writer, in gist, so simple a story, just like of human bondage by somerset maugham.. struggles of a clubfooted, ordinary boy. Pather panchali is struggle of a village boy, his entire life. Yet the magic touch of the master sculptor made the entire difference. Its one of my hot favourite books.

Just a little more adored is another masterpiece by him, aranyak, not very popular, even though I don’t know why, may be because most of the people don’t feel strong bonding with nature. The bonding which is reflected in every line of this book. Now, as I am writing this a piece of me is asking me to get up and get the book and start reading it. it’s a fantastic, divine story of a surveyor appointed by a landlord to chop off a forest and sell that land, how he fell in love with that forest and how it broke his heart when he had to order his people to chop it off. I will never forget those descriptions of simple life of rural people and tribals. The gorgeous beauty of virgin forest.

He was one of his kind writers, one of those who has left a priceless heritage for coming generations, books which can be relished again and again with same love.

Beter beware

I have once worked for an organisation which was run by a selfmade man, he has built quite a nice business starting from scratch. So he had every reason to be quite protective toward his business.

 

He is a issueless guy with plenty of money and I thought it was his careless attitude for money which made him buy two computers for one computer operator.. one stand-alone only for internet and the other connected with the LAN. There was separate printer and necessary things for both the machines because every day huge amount of official emails used to arrive there.

 

Then slowly I became net savvy and I realized that he was intelligent. There are too many ways of hacking in your computer when you are online. I have personally seen some proofs.. hints that were too much blunt to be ignored, as I don’t believe in telepathic communication.

 

Before that I used to think that all the stealing is done after you post something in blog, then I realized that posting is no longer required, being in the computer is enough.. I have a good antivirus installed but geeks say even that is not enough if someone is determined to steal.

 

The bitter fact is we, the normal users can never fight hackers, when they can hack into NASA etc then what are we? A big nothing. So being careful is the best way.

Benebou

There were three massive mango trees beside our pond back in my ancestral home. Which were later chopped down by my sibling in his deforestation mania.. no he doesnot bothers about life or objections of others.

 

When I returned to burdwan after spending almost four years in delhi (a place where you wont even hear crows..) I landed in pure heaven. An old two storeyed house with a pond and garden. Full of flowers and birds.

 

My bedroom was in the first floor, the branches of one of the mango trees touched my window bars.. within one month my love with nature and its creatures started and that will stay with me as long as I breathe.

 

One day I was sitting beside my window when I heard an extremely sweet bird call, it clearly sounded like “ekti khoka hok” that means “may you have a baby boy”, I jumped out of the bed to locate the bird and did located him, what a beauty he was… I am enclosing his pic to show you. Dazzling yellow and black. He has two distinctive calls one I described above and the other is “O benebou” that means “hey goldsmith’s wife”. Well, its just co incidence that their calls sound like two bengali sentences but they do.

 

Well in case of this bird it was love at first sight, which is still there.. their gorgeous looks and equally gorgeous voice.

 

I have seen a couple here, near my home, but the funny part is back at my ancestral home it was next to impossible to see them, they are very shy birds.. and always hide themselves in leaves but the two I saw in kolkata are extremely brave, I even saw them sitting on a wall near my home.. but their call and looks is by no means inferior.. hope they will visit me next spring again. Their call is heard only during early spring, spring and early summer. Rest of the time they don’t call.

 

My constant companion is koyel or kokil, I have observed they sing through out the year and often I have heard them singing in moonlit nights. I used to relish teasing them when I was ahem, even in my early thirties.. now I think its not very nice to tease these sweethearts.

 

If you mimic them they will keep calling, and after a while will get really angry.. I used to mimic them to hear them. It was so lovely to hear them calling to defeat their rival.

BEAUTIFUL GESTURES

When I was a child I have been taught by my parents that we should say thank you to everyone who does some thing good to us and sorry when we do something bad to someone.

 

The same thing has been taught in schools I have learnt. I have personally added a few things to it, I think we all can practice it with the touch of heart, or else it will become a façade.

 

One, I always find out a quality in a person who has paid a compliment to me, if not then, I later pay him or her a compliment for his own virtues. Actually I like paying compliments voluntarily, and finding out qualities in people. I think by paying a person a compliment I spread a little harmless happiness. That’s a thing worth spreading to me. Not only that, if we make it a habit of finding virtues in others life becomes more pleasant for us and others. Recently a wonderful lady asked me why do we look for virtues in others and ignore our own virtues. After a little soul searching I thought, whatever the reason might be it increases love, feeling of security and trust in both hearts.

 

Two, if someone helps me; I certainly try to help him back. I either help him back in the same manner or some other. But , I never help anyone with hope of return, only a thank you is enough for me, a thank you from heart.

 

Three, if someone gifts me something, let it be a petty thing like a greeting card or pen, I always keep that in mind and when I am out shopping I don’t forget to buy something for him. I have seen that some people have a habit of gifting near and dear friends but they rarely get it back. I don’t know whether they mind or not, but may be somewhere deep down it hurts.

 

Four, showing a little consideration to elderly, fragile or people facing emergency. But I have gladly noted that people of Kolkata are very kind in this regard. Some grumble but finally they let them have their seat.

Bankimchandra

Not a very popular writer, if we count by the number of people who read his works and will admit anonymously that they love his work (people often call him their favourite in fear of being looked down upon).

 

I have picked up some odd writers because of my mother, who was an avid reader and had a uncommon taste. Bankimchandra is one of them. She just loved his works and so do I.

 

He was more like shakespeare, picking up the most exquisite words and painting a picture out of them. He was truly the emperor of classic bengali language.

 

I often feel awe struck, how could he use such exquisite word yet create fantastic novels and immemorable characters. Characters so real, like kundanandini or kapalkundala. Bhramar, Indira or Suryamukhi. Kapalkundala is my favourite character in fiction world.

 

The immense strength of character which this lady had I have never seen another lady with such strength of character. She embodied truth and honesty. Her fearless honesty is awe inspiring for any woman.

 

Just like I will never forget anandamath, durgeshnandini or bishabriksha… such fantastic usage of language yet such immemorable characters.