All posts by Priyatu

Kolkata, Personal, Society

Calcutta book-fair 2002 – old wine in new bottle

Leave a comment

[ad]

bookfair Calcutta Book Fair is a very queer phenomenon. In times of receding book culture, this fair has brought multitudes to the milieu of books, and smiles to the faces of writers and publishers. One is surprised at how popular this annual event has become. One needs no statistics that outside the serious student who customarily visits the College Street, and the rare casual book reader who buys one or two, the books hardly receive any patronage. And yet come the end of January, and the Maidan air is thick with dust and smell of books. Calcutta has always been called (for whatever reasons) the culture capital of India (as if other parts of India are shorn of ‘culture’), and this late craze with books lends further credence to the added, rather preposterous claim of Calcutta being the intellectual capital of India. Of course such branding makes for chauvinism, but if the general Calcuttan is asked, he or she takes evident pride at this annual event. Other cities to have their own book fairs, with even more grander titles like Indian Book Fair, Asian Book Fair, or even World Book Fair – some, from time to time, and some regularly- but perhaps nowhere is seen this popularity verging on craze. One does not know if the average Calcuttan is fond and fan of books, but at least for two weeks he/she is. So what makes it so? My surmise is – Marketing. The Calcutta Book Fair has been marketed like nothing before or since. For the last ten years the Calcutta Book Fair has been branded a part of Calcutta culture- and if one know what pride a Bengali takes in his/her culture, one knows that it was indeed a very good tactic. Every year sees more and more stalls crowding at the fair, more and more books published just before the fair. The government does not show half as much interest in governing as it shows in staging this event- and ever since Buddhadev Bhattacharjee, a confirmed book and culture loving intellectual, became a part of the government (who, about a year and a half ago, became the Chief Minister), the fair has received a staunch patron.

Unless one has been to the fair one does not know what it means. A million people poring over books in half a thousand stalls in an area of a few hectares, is a sight indeed. The advanced countries sure cannot stage such an event- they just don’t have that many people. India being India, people will tolerate anything to be near what they claim as their heritage- the books- and given the number of Bengali books that come out, one is sure that the book business is going strong. The crowd, the dust, the lack of proper amenities (proper walking and moving space, telephones, water, toilet facilities, eateries, information centres, etc) does not deter the Calcuttan. Come rain or shine, he/she will pay the annul pilgrimage to the Maidan at least once. Some to it many times. Some visit the fair everyday that it lasts.

[ad]

The fair brings together many people. People selling books, people selling little magazines, people selling handicraft wares, people doing small road skits, people singing in a group and what not. Bookworm jostles with the book thief, and all have a merry time. Statistics are lacking as to, of the people visiting the fair grounds, how many actually buy books. One feels certain that a large number of people visit the fair grounds just for the experience- taking a look at books from all over India and the world, meeting acquaintances by chance, getting to ogle at celebrities who pay token visits, eating at the various stalls, and just hanging around with friends. All local books, and most popular books, are available at the College Street, and that too at much lower prices- and so the sensible desist from buying books at the fair.

It is said that the rich men buy books, and the wise men read them. If you want to have the best of both worlds, you buy as well as read them. If you are wiser you posses and read a book without buying them. Thus, at the fair, there is no shortage of those who are fond of possessing the books without the means. Previous fairs have seen attempts on part of the fair authorities to grant a semblance of respectability to this not-so-honourable means of procuring books. Thus, they made those caught red-handed sit in essay competitions, and then granted to them the stolen books on satisfactory composition. Even later attempts saw the authorities quizzing the caught person about the book, about the need of the book and about his/her economic condition, and on being given satisfactory answers, the books were gifted. Unfortunately this book fair saw the use of heavy handed means. Security was heavy, thanks to the first terrorist attack in Calcutta just a few days prior to the fair, and few would have ventured on such daring adventures as book lifting. My personal opinion is that the Book Fair would lose much of its charm without these colourful and desperate personalities. For my part, I think that the publishers are bigger thieves than the book lifters, charging as they do exorbitant prices for books that should have come cheaper.

I too have been paying my annual visit to the Maidan for the last ten years. Our family shifted to Calcutta from Adra (my father having a transferable job) on 5th of December, 1991. Two months later I went to Book Fair. Ever since I have not missed a single year, avidly waiting for that wintry fortnight when father loosened his purse strings a little bit. Myself being a great book lover (I am very fond of my personal library, and I would buy books even when I do not have immediate plans of reading them) I would save as much money as I could from the little I got, and then I would happily spend them. The smell of new books was even more mesmerizing to me than the smell of new bank notes.

Lately, however, the charm of the Book Fair has diminished a little bit. The prices of books and certain other mundane compulsions (many of the books that I really needed could not be found at the fair, and most of those useful books could be had much more cheaply at College Street) forced this awareness that the Book Fair is not so charming anymore. Perhaps a few years from now on when academic pressures would be gone, when my pockets would be lined with silk, I might find better use of this event. But for now I would rather pay my pilgrimage visit, and make do with as little purchases as possible. But undoubtedly, the Calcutta Book Fair has certainly had a positive hand in my education by fostering a love of books that was not there in the beginning.

Technorati Tags: ,,,

[ad]

Jadavpur

Sanskriti 2002- witnessing a spectacle

Leave a comment

[ad]

The college fest (or University, or faculty fest) that is held at Jadavpur University is, perhaps, unlike any other. Unfortunately one cannot use words of high praise while describing this fest, which is rather unique for some unfortunate reasons. While in other college fests the student attendance increase, here at JU, it decreases. Reasons could be many, and my guesses would include:

  1. In Jadavpur University at least three fests are organised by the three faculties in the University – all of them called Sanskriti, by a peculiar Bengali chauvinism. Thus within the short span of about one month during the winter fest season we have three Sanskritis organised by the Engineering Faculty, the Science Faculty and the Arts Faculty. Needless to say that besieged by such profusion of festivals, the student loses interest and attachment in such events.
  2. The sense of belonging towards an institution that is evident in other places is miserably missing in this university.
  3. The events are held in such lacklustre fashion, and feeds upon such monotony of tradition and dull imagination, that the student cannot be held culprit if the events deny any temptation.
  4. Except for the Engineering Sanskriti, which receives rather heavy patronage from the corporate world, the events lack sponsorship and are thus dull events. The onus of attracting sponsorship lies, however, with the organisers.
  5. The event is held over a three-four day period. The interest is thus dissipated.
  6. This year the Sanskriti (organised by the Arts Faculty) has been staged at the Open Air Theatre (OAT) which is situated at the fag end of the campus. It loses out on patronage from the Engineering students who have their classrooms at the other end of the campus.
  7. In general the JU students are very unexcitable.

It wasn’t surprising, therefore, that we found so little reason to disturb our daily routine at college, and introduce such a shoddy and lacklustre event as Sanskriti into our consciousness. However, I found reason enough to go the the OAT. This is the first time in my stay at the University that the fest had been organised at this spot, and naturally there was curiosity as to how it looks. But the real tempter was the Choreography competition. For as long as I have witnessed Sanskriti, I have always felt that the most popular event is the Choreography competition. One gets to see all the beautiful and talented girls of the university dancing on the stage, and if one remembers that all girls worth watching are in the Arts Faculty, then it becomes crystal clear why the event goes house full.

[ad]

For the last three years (if my memory does not deceive me) three girls from our class have been winning the event. Their dance had attained a very predictable feature, and one could guess extra-meritorial considerations coming into play- all the girls were popular, extremely vivacious, and beautiful. This year as well three girls came on the dance floor- the same winning combination, with one player being replaced. The introduction saw the incantation of an incomprehensible mantra which nobody could make a sense of (keep in mind, they were from the English Department), a feature which had been used the previous year as well. And then the surprise package- the very popular dance number Jiya Jale from the film Dil Se was played in Tamil, instead of in Hindi- God knows why! It would be inappropriate for me to comment anything upon the quality of the dance, but it was rather interesting for reason which cannot be specified here. And that one of them danced a lot better than the other two was more than perceptible.

Honestly, the most enjoyable number was given by a group of seven guys from the Economics department. The best number was given by a male female duo who danced with the Bengali song ‘Kono ek gayer bodhu’. But, as far as I am concerned, the most interesting number was given by the girls from our class. True, one of them stumbled at the fag end; true, they could not repeat the previous three years when they won the event, but they did well to step upon the stage. Perhaps participation is more important than winning, and more so when you don’t have to prove anything, when you have already proved your credentials.

Technorati Tags: ,,,

[ad]

Jadavpur, Personal

My convocation at Jadavpur University

Leave a comment

[ad]

convocation When I was not even ten years old my favourite song was ‘Papa kehte hain’ from the film Qayamat se Qayamat tak. In this film which created waves among the youth, this particular song was favourite with many, putting into words the aspirations and dreams, as well as the apprehensions of the youth at the threshold of adulthood and responsibility. Aamir Khan, in his first film, sings the song on the occasion of his graduation party. While it would be so much worthwhile to quote not only the lyrics of the song, but also the preface which always accompanies the song, let me do without it, hoping only that my Indian friends would remember the words. In the next twelve years the world changed much, not only for me, but for everyone else. Thus in 2001, in Dil chahta hai the same Aamir Khan sings in another graduation party – ‘Hum hai naye, andaaz kyon ho purana?’. The total change of lyrics and the vocabulary might symbolise the changed perception, the changed mentality, the changed attitude, the increasing optimism and recklessness, or whatever. And believe me, reams have been written on these two contrasting phenomena. My own graduation ceremony, [excuse me, there was no party!] might draw references from the above quoted contexts.

I always thought that graduation ought to be a milestone in one’s [at least academic] career. It is, I still believe. While there was never any doubt that I would reach this stage, perhaps go even further, I had always expected the reaching of this milestone to be accompanied with some symbolic celebration. The graduation years passed by rather too quickly. The first day at college remains fresh still in our minds. College remains an important place in our lives. The degree would mean so much more in concrete terms, given the present employment scenario in this country. Why is it then that when that very graduation ceremony comes [and most agree that they are doing the present course, or did the last course, only for the degree] they are so callous about it? The day before the ceremony I called a few girls with an enquiry, and from them I came to know that none of them were anywhere near excited about the coming day, none were interested in bringing their parents, and in fact some were not interested in coming altogether! The recurring penchant was ‘What the hell is convocation? We’ve already got our marksheets, and we will get our degrees later on, anyway.’ And true to this early promise, many did not come. ‘Hum hai naye, andaaz kyon ho purana?’

[ad]

The day there began early. The long queue for convocation robe [sorry, no caps] of colour saffron which made us seem all of the BJP. The slow arrival of classmates. Then the queue again for the graduation pictures. [Of course many of us had got our own cameras, we were not allowed to take snaps on stage- where we would be given our degrees.] The roaming around the university with friends while in the long wait for our scrolls. The getting together of some mates on the steps of the Open Theatre where the ceremony was held. And at long last the queue for getting the degree. At this point it would be so much apt to comment on an aspect of Department and University life which was so much evident not only prior to the ceremony, but also after it [namely, the lack of bonding among classmates, and the dispersing attitude of clustering among small groups], but that calls for a separate article. Plainly, I was very disappointed that even on this very special day we could not find buddies to take snaps with. Some of us were so much desirous of taking snaps in our Department and classes where we spent the last three years, but unfortunately, we found so few of our classmates. As the ceremony ended, all departed. There was no get-together, no party. And I recalled all those graduation parties in films.

Technorati Tags: ,,,

[ad]

Jadavpur, Kolkata

Ajay Singh: A Tribute

Leave a comment

[ad]

BA15399This article was specially written by Nikhilesh for Recurring Decimal, the JU English departmental wall magazine. Nikhilesh was the editor of Recurring Decimal. Copyright, presumably, belongs to Nikhilesh.

Ranjitsingh ji, Duleepsinhji, Ajay Singhji … how easy it would be to believe I was writing on another cricketer in that same illustrious line. But Ajay Singh, a student of our department between 1999-2001, is in no way connected to the great Ranji. Although, watching him bat in a cricket match you will find it hard to believe he does not have some royal blood flowing through his veins.
He is arguably the King of cambis cricket (cambis>canvas; cricket played with canvas balls). He has all the shots in the book and some beyond it – his favourite being the one that he mows over midwicket and into the Blue Earth workshop. The fastest bowlers in the university are scared to death of that shot. More disheartening for the bowler is the confidence with which he bats when his teammates are struggling to put bat to ball. I can give you instances; he scored 85 and 80 in two matches against the Economics department when the next highest score was under twenty on both occasions. He is not infallible though, as the zero in the last match of last season signifies. But that, as the cliché goes, endears him more to his supporters, of whom there are many in our department and understandably very few outside it. Contrary to popular belief it is difficult to think well of someone who has just smashed you all over the park.

[ad]

I must choose to remain silent about his physical attributes because I will never be able to describe them with any degree of accuracy: he always seems to me so much bigger and taller and fitter than any other person on the field. And all my lasting memories of him are on the cricket fields where he is a true giant in the Land of the Lilliputs. But I can talk of his mental fortitude that shows through again and again.
‘Ajay’ – the word means ‘unconquerable’. And Ajay lives up to his name. He never lost a game in his mind. In any game of cricket, even when his teammates give up the ghost and waft at the ball like blind men or proceed to bowl longhops in a bid to get it over with quickly, he remains calm and calculating. I remember a match in which the opposition required eight runs with one over remaining. The bowler for the English department was young and awfully nervous. He had six runs taken off his first three deliveries. While every other fielder was busy expressing their doubts over the legitimacy of the bowler’s birth, a quiet voice came over from mid-off, “Arrey yaar, bowl a fuller length!” The bowler followed the advice and the match was tied. I remember it was Ajay fielding at mid-off. Oh! I remember it all so well. I was the bowler that almost lost the match for my team.
The other aspect of his mental make up is his commitment to the team’s cause. After he discontinued his studies at J.U. there were widespread concerns within the team that Ajay had played his last innings for the English department. Yet he proved them wrong and has never failed to turn up whenever he was asked to. Our departmental team is yet to face the world without the big man on their side.
Take a bow Ajay. You deserve all the applause you get.

See also:

Cricket Season comes to an end

Technorati Tags: ,,,,

[ad]

Personal, Writing

One year of Virgin Endeavour

Leave a comment

[ad]

It was on January 1, 2001 that the website called Virgin Endeavour was first uploaded to the Internet. One whole year of online presence that meant a lot: the first in my class to have a website of my own, the first among all acquaintances to have a website of his own…. Pride. A particular self-belief. A message. And lots of satisfaction. So what did I gain?

There are many things in life which you do not do for any tangible material benefit. Love. Laugh. Play. Spend quality time. Read. Enjoy a good film. Share a few exciting and emotional moments with your girlfriend. Give that first gift to some dear one from your first salary….Did I write up most of my poems for payback? In that case I should have, perhaps, published a book and copyrighted my poems. Why should I publish my own intellectual property in public domain for free? Why indeed! First, that I don’t think I have enough material for a published book. And second because I thought that writing a book was still some way off. While, I may have to reconsider the second point one year later, I believe that most material online should be free. And so, here I am displaying my wares for not even a penny. But what things I can claim!

While it remains my misfortune that I haven’t received any sort of patronage, I have slogged through even busy times to keep my passion burning. I haven’t received even one mail saying that, ‘Well, Mr. Rahul, your poems are wonderful. I liked them. Keep up the good work’. And to be honest it is not the lack of quality that is the reason for this callousness. I am a student of literature, and my friends at the university are students of literature. I am not sure if even two people from my class have visited my site. Under such uninspiring circumstances keeping up a cheerful heart remains difficult. Another website that I made later this year [Aishwarya Palace or Ashpalace at http://ashpalace.tripod.com] met with the same fate. How can a person deny dejection under such repeated show of scorn? I have hallowed company in Shelley and Keats, and I can console myself. However, it’s not so much a question of consolation. For my part I am happy that I did a good work, proud that I am the only person to do such a thing among my friends, and happily complacent in the firm belief that coming years shall see a reversal of fate. It’s not so much my dejection that matters, but the fact that friends and relatives can be so ungracious, so uncongratulatory. It was, after all, for those few words of praise that this website exists in the first place. More than for myself, I feel sorry for them. They have let themselves down in my eyes.

[ad]

And running this website has meant some concrete sacrifices. It’s unimaginable how many dozens of hours I have had to slog with my computer in works related to the website. While many of those efforts were abortive attempts that did not see the light of the day, the fact that Virgin Endeavour has come this far is a testimony that the site has seen improvements. One year back this site, at best, could have been called amateur. I cannot make tall claims for myself, but considering that I had only myself to cheer me, considering that I have never done any course in web designing, considering that all I learnt, I learnt by myself, this is not a bad prize. And I hope the next one year will see more improvements, although I remain skeptical if there shall be any difference in its reception.

Technorati Tags: ,,

[ad]