
My Favourite Stories From Contemporary Bengali Literature : The Lone Tree

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For last couple of years, I have been reading Galpa Samagra, a collection of short stories by Sunil Gangopadhyay. Let me start by mentioning that Sunil always described himself as a poet first, and considered rest of his skills or occupations as secondary. But honestly speaking, I do not understand poetry — neither by Sunil nor by anybody else. My foray is short stories, and I am happy with them. Continue reading
Finding other people who share our interest and taste is indeed a delightful experience. So you can imagine my happiness when I received positive response from several of you on one of my earlier posts When Your Post Is Not Delivered — which was narration of a drama telecast on Doordarshan. On one side, there are those who are also searching for that serial and similar other programmes, and on the other are those who have a wonderful memory and can recall even more details than what I gave in that post. Motivated by the comments on that post, I myself did some quick search and here are some more details about that story. The serial was titled ‘Afsaane’, and the actors were Lalit Behl and Navnindra Behl. This is how they looked like: Continue reading
Today I would tell you about one story that appeared in the kids’ section of the Sunday supplement of Navabharat Times and which has made the biggest impact on my lifestyle and brought the biggest change in me. Continue reading
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This story had appeared in Navabharat Times and is among the shortest pieces of fiction I have read. This story showed how intense emotion can be generated even with very few words, so that elaborate melodrama is absolutely not required. Now, in the beginning itself, let me raise the alert that the philosophy of the story is debatable. I myself couldn’t convince myself to the thinking of this story. This is a complex world, circumstances do not follow any computer algorithm; people are not logical creatures — it is not necessary that any person would act the same way in all possible circumstances and would deal with everybody in absolutely same fashion irrespective of the state of mind or circumstances. Anyway, let me narrate the story. Continue reading
I had gone to Delhi for some exam and was now returning to Rishikesh by evening bus. It is a usual practice among students to make the 6-hour night journey to take various competitive exams. Buses were efficient and comfortable. Bus journeys also allow us to come across different people from different backgrounds and help us see the different shades of this colourful world. Continue reading
This story had appeared in children’s magazine Lotpot. A young boy was very fond of Indian fast food, or rather street food — chaat, samosa, tikki and so on. Every other day he would demand his father to take him to the stalls offering such spicy delicacies. His father resisted a lot, but had to surrender. His mother would teach him how eating street food was not healthy, and even went to the extent of offering to make some of those snacks at home itself. But the boy didn’t listen. He did not find the same flavour in home made snacks as found in street food. In fact, he was completely addicted to the street food. His parents were very worried, but could not figure out how to deal with the problem. Continue reading
A question is generally asked — Does literature have any social responsibility or is it yet another means of aesthetic pleasure? In fact, this question is asked not just about literature, instead about all arts. However, in this post I would not go into the debate on this issue. Continue reading
I am writing to you after a long gap. A sudden unanticipated inflow of work kept me occupied for the last two weeks. Such unexpected change in work schedule is part of scientific research. The work is not yet finished, but now I am getting used to the extra work. It also means that a lot of routine work has piled up — cleaning, organizing, refreshing social contacts, and yes, getting updated with what is going on in the world. So I sat down and browsed through the large pile of newspapers looking for anything interesting that I might have missed. Continue reading
आन्तोन पावलोविच चेखोव (1860-1904), स्रोत – विकिमीडिया
एक सुन्दर शाम को, लगभग उतना ही सुदर्शन एक्जिक्यूटर, इवान द्मित्रिच चेर्व्याकोव, कुर्सियों की दूसरी पंक्ति में बैठा था और दूरबीन से “कॉर्नविल की घंटियाँ” (ओपेरा) देख रहा था । वह देख रहा था और स्वयं को आनन्द की पराकाष्ठा पर बैठा अनुभव कर रहा था । लेकिन अचानक . . . कहानियों में अक्सर यह “लेकिन अचानक” मिलता है । लेखकों का कहना सच है: जीवन अप्रत्याशित घटनाओं से कितना भरपूर है ! लेकिन अचानक उसका चेहरा बिगडा, आँखें घूम गईं, साँसें रुक गईं . . . उसने आँखों से दूरबीन हटाई, झुका और . . . आपछू !!! छींका, जैसा कि आप देख ही रहे हैं । छींकना किसी को भी कहीं भी मना नहीं है । लोग छींकते हैं, पुलिस अधिकारी छींकते हैं, और कभी कभी तो गोपनीय सलाहकार भी । सभी छींकते हैं । चेर्व्याकोव जरा भी शर्मिंदा नहीं हुआ, रुमाल से पोंछा और एक सज्जन व्यक्ति की तरह अपने चारों तरफ देखा: कहीं उसने अपनी छींक से किसी को परेशान तो नहीं किया ? Continue reading