Seasons of the Year

After some, really long time now, I sat writing this post…… maybe just to put my keyboard to some worthwhile work, except only for the writing only the usernames, and passwords in some Social networking sites.

Now, if I have a blog, then that must show up some recent posts, isn’t it?

I do hardly write some complete sentences, these days…..

Only writing some terribly big Mathematical formulas, weird Chemical symbols, and long Physical expressions, don’t know why most of them extensively use Greek letters rather than English; otherwise I am writing only Short Messages in my Cell Phone, or the Facebook Chat box, with lots of netlingo and smileys. I do feel my English to be deteriorated.

Anyways, I have actually been thinking of writing this up, for quite a long time, but hadn’t quite been able to make up proper time and mood for that.

Today’s rain perhaps, brought both of them together.

I thought of writing on the seasons of the year, and I have actually been thinking of writing this for the past four seasons.

Remember, we used to write compositions in our Primary school days, On “My Favourite Seasons”? And almost, without exception, most of us used to write Spring as our Favourite season. No doubt, we won’t really be asked to write, such compositions again (What a pity!), But when I ponder back of the past days, I find every season better than the other. It’s so hard to decide.  When Autumn came, I said to myself “Come on it has to be the best season, What can really be better than this”. But then it passed away, and came Winter and Spring and Summer, and I kept repeating the same lines again and again. May be that’s why, I am writing this post so late. I perhaps thought of writing this during the best season of the year, But then time went by, I couldn’t decide Which is actually the best. Actually with every passing by season, it brings along lots of memories of the gone-by days.

Spring Season, is indeed one of the best seasons of the year, the winter is just bidding farewell, and you get to see the mild sun, waving at you from his abode, there high up in the sky…. There are already green leaves on the big Sal trees, and they seem to be smiling with joy. And the cuckoo kept on singing from one of the branches of the jackfruit tree. This was the time of the year, when perhaps most of us used to spent the best time of the year. Our exams used to end then, and we were all excited about getting to next class. Meanwhile we used to enjoy our after-exam-holidays. Those were the times when we played in the fields, garden, among the dust, and pick up some flowers and play weird games made by ourselves, Those do often bring back memories of our ‘Famous Five’ reading days.

You hardly do realize, when the Spring is gone, and the Summer is on its way. The Sun doesn’t really smile in this time, but often glares at you. Many people do not really like this season, But why? I find it yet one of my favorites. The Sun gets up so early, and when you actually leave the bed, you already find so much of brightness around. Then I sometimes even find the summer heat soothing. This was the time, when you didn’t actually feel like taking a nap, in the afternoon, and rather hit the ball with a bat in the backyard wall, or later in the evening, watch some cartoons in Television. Remember watching Disney Hour in Sony, and Fox Kids in Star Plus?? Or perhaps Cartoon Network. I really liked Mickey, Minnie Donald, Daisy, Goofy, Uncle Scrooge, Baloo, Ariel, Scooby Doo and others. They were like my best friends. Summers were also the time when I used to beg to Mum, for a glass of Rasna, or perhaps be too happy at the trade call of the Coolfi seller passing by the house. Summer season also saw our Summer holidays, when came our long, a month Summer Holidays, when we often visited our ancestral homes, and jumped in the pools, throwing water all around, and made faces at the glaring sun. Sometimes I even went in the woods, behind some stray bird, or even a hen in the extreme deficiency of a good beautiful bird. Ah! Summers. How can I forget the fruits, Mango was(is) one of my favorites. I kept staying at the trees and often tried climbing them as well. I remember once climbing such a tree, and some red ants being quite frustrated with my presence did bite me at some awkward places. Summers usually remained for quite long In Chandrapura as well as in Durgapur. Thus, a long paragraph for summer! This was how the summers went by for me, climbing walls and trees.

At the summer’s end, came the long awaited Monsoons, bringing rains with it, and joy. Again some people felt bad about the season. They said, “Agh! Again the monsoons!” But, I liked even this one. After the hot day, there would be a shower during the afternoon, and me and my friends would once again be out in the streets, playing with our paper boats, leaving them to sail, in the one-day rivulets. There would be such a good strange smell from the earth. The Rains often brought Hotchpotch with it, in the Bengali lunch. All those were real fun. The afternoons also meant a game of football, in the wet fields. The ball would be white like never before, and even our feet looked as fair as they could be. The evenings did mean some study, but then often there would be load shedding in the monsoons. And those were the times, when I used to read the Horror editions of Ashara month of some Bengali magazines, under the candle light. Those were sometimes really scary.

After the Monsoons, came the Autumn without fail. This is also one of the best times of the year. Now I know, I’m confusing you, saying every season to be the best. But, you know, I can’t really help it. Autumn for me stands for the beautiful clear blue sky overhead, with white cotton like clouds. This was the sky, I often used put on my Drawing Copies. Autumn also meant the Shiuli and Kash flowers. It was a tryst seeing valleys of these Kash flowers, while crossing the Medinipur district of Bengal in a local train. Shiuli and Kash brought with them the massage of Durga Puja. Autumn meant Durga Puja for the Bengalis, and another school vacations for the students. With the Durga Pujas, came other joys as well. Durga Pujas brought new clothes with it, and the joys of visiting Grandparents. And for me, it even meant the ‘Sharodiya Shuktara’, the annual magazine, of a children’s monthly. I remember reading through the long stories of Anish Deb, Manabendra Pal, Shaktipada Rajguru’s Patla, and the ‘Bantul The Great’ and ‘Handa Bhondar Kandikarkhana’ comics of Narayan Debnath; and often staring out of the window when I am not reading. Kolkata is at its best during the Pujas, and I am always in Kolkata during the Pujas, moving from one pandal to other, seeing idols, and appreciating their themes. Those were indeed the best of times.

At the end of the year, finally came the Winter season. Winter meant gardening, and becoming immense happy to see them flowering and later some bearing fruits. The leaves less trees also had some beauty in them. Winter also meant going out in the afternoons to play Badminton or often Cricket. Or in someday, a family day out to see a Circus. There were also some marriage parties during the winters, weren’t there? And how can I forget Picnics of winter. I remember going different places, in buses for Picnics, playing trump all the way, or playing Antakshari. Winter signified ‘Early to bed, and late to rise’. I never really wanted to be out the warm quilt, until Mum Shouted at my back.

This was how. I really used to spend my year, throughout the different seasons of the year. Those days are indeed past. I don’t have time now, to run behind a bird, or pick flowers, and hear to the coo of a cuckoo. Neither do I climb walls and trees nowadays. Watching Cartoon somehow got replaced with MTV, Not even much jumping into the pools or making paper boats or to see the valleys of Kash Flowers. I now don’t even read too much of ‘Shuktara’ these days. The principle of ‘Early to bed, Late to rise’ doesn’t hold in any season, but Mum still shouts at my back. At least something remained!

When the seasons pass by, every year, one after another, I recollect all those gone by days and that makes me feel like go back to those days. Hope one day H. G. Wells’ ‘Time Machine’ does come true.

And it is the memoirs and recollection of those days only that makes every season my favourite. 

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First Days on the Bicycle

I had been riding the motor bike a few days ago and thought how easy was to ride a bike, and there are few people who don’t even know ride a bicycle. I laughed on my own for a few seconds. I am always a quick learner. I had learnt to ride a bicycle as well as a motorbike very fast. But still I remembered the first day when I tried cycling.

I was in Class 3. And my bicycle was not a small one. It was 18” cycle and obviously without supporting wheels. We then used to live in Chandrapura. There was a big football ground in Chandrapura which was the best place to learn riding. So one day my father took me with the cycle to the ground.

I mounted the cycle and came down as soon as I had mounted it as if somebody had forbade me to move. Once I had kept my foot on the pedals, I was not moving it and thus was falling with the whole cycle. My father was trying to hold my cycle from the back and often tried to push the bicycle but became tired very soon and quit.

Next day I had come again, but this time my father caught a young boy in ground to teach me cycling. The boy was nice. He put me on the cycle and told me to keep pedaling and he pushed me. Finally I was going ahead with nobody there pushing at my back. Yippee!!

But still then I didn’t know to turn or stop. I told you I was always a quick learner. The next day I had myself sat on the cycle and started pedaling. My father was sitting at the base of the stadium in the ground. I was so happy that I was actually RIDING A CYCLE that I forgot that I didn’t know to turn or stop the cycle. I played the hero and removed one of my hands off the handle and happily waved at my father and the next moment… BANG! I crashed into a tree just in front of the walls. I wasn’t much hurt though.  My father came running and scolded me. I guiltily looked at him but smiling with joy underneath. I don’t know what the joy was about. A good result had I got for waving my father.

Finally I had learnt turning the handle and to stop. And I knew cycling. And I was once riding on the local streets. But then I didn’t know to ring the bell which was not in the side but at the centre of the handle. I was coming on the streets and there were two women on the roads completely blocking the way. Imagine my position. I couldn’t ring the bell. I started shouting “Move Out, Move Out”. But they too busy in gossips couldn’t hear me. And I had knocked on of them. None of us was much hurt. But the women started shouting. My father soon came and settled the matters.

These were the small incidents that happened with me which learning to cycle. And now I can Cycle so well and also know to ride the bike well. These small incidents must have happened with everybody, but some are too shy to tell. One should always remember them while teaching others cycling. For now I will keep remembering these things and laugh on my own.

Two Stories

Last year I had written a couple of stories. They were absolutely awful.  They were supposed to be horror stories but after reading I doubt if anybody will ever be frightened of ghosts. I often used to write stories and they were not always nice. The stories I had written last year were in about 400 words. This time I am submitting the stories in my blog. Please go through them and tell me how bad they are (and if there is a slightest part of interest in them). They may look somewhat ‘filmy’.   Anyways please comment on them to let me know how my stories are and if I should try my hand at a few more or not.

STORY 1

A Different Day

On a night like this, he would not have been out. But tonight, it was different. He was walking carelessly in the middle of the road. Cars came with shining lights and passed through him. Nobody seems to be affecting him any way. Ajay has come out of that transitional world of life and death just a few hours ago. Ajay still remembered his mourning family members. He decided he wouldn’t leave that man who had separated him from his family.

Ajay set on his way. He would kill his boss as cruelly as he was. He went on his way. His boss had killed him for he was going to tell the police all about his black money. He went to his office, the boss was not there. He then went to their warehouse. Mr. Agarwala was dealing with the boss over some supply of electrical wire. Ajay waited for the warehouse to be vacant.

At last, when all except the boss and two other men remained, Ajay started his work. He brought down the shutter. Everybody inside being panicked started shouting. They tried to reach for the switchboard but Ajay had already cut all the wires. He silently killed one of the men by throttling his throat. When the other man came near to enquire, he also died the peaceful death. Now it was the boss and Ajay-face to face. Oops! The boss of course couldn’t see Ajay.

“Ready to die?” Ajay said in a resolute voice.

“Who the hell are you playing pranks?” said the boss.

“Don’t you remember me boss? You sent your men just yesterday to kill me.”

“Oh! It’s Ajay you can’t do me anything. People will soon open the shutter.”

Ajay pulled the boss across the rough floor. He bit him and thrashed him across the walls. Ajay let the boxes fall over him. The boss was completely marred. There was thumping on the shutters. he begged for his life. Then suddenly Ajay became more ferocious- he became visible. His eyes were like glowing balls of fire, His tongue lolling out from his bloody mouth. The boss started shouting and moaning, Ajay bit his boss, just like a werewolf; to almost dead-but, he did not kill him. He left him to suffer his whole life remembering this day. Ajay left the warehouse, casting a deadly look at the boss moaning on the floor.      

STORY 2

A Night of Challenge

                He could never imagine he would be chosen for this bizarre game…to watch a horror film in an auditorium alone. Rakesh was not scared but he wished he had not challenged his friends. He was sure he was going to feel bored.

                He went into the auditorium for the night show to see the Horror film “Parchain”. Rakesh never quite liked to watch films. He was feeling very bored at first. Then he was feeling sleepy. But something was wrong. He was feeling sleepy but he could not close his eyes. The show had started with a shrill feminine laugh and bats flying away from a haunted house in a full moon night. Something went wrong then. Rakesh was trembling. There was no one in the whole auditorium. But Rakesh was still not frightened. Suddenly everything became gloomy and Rakesh….vanished. The speakers were still roaring.

                Rakesh was in another world-he knew not where. He was standing beside the broken house seen in the big screen. He was feeling strange and now...a bit scared. But he couldn’t shout. He heard some dogs or perhaps wolves in the vicinity. Was their sixth sense sensing some supernatural beings nearby? Rakesh saw a tall shadow like creature standing near the house. It was clad all in white. His pulse quickened. He went inaudibly near it and was relieved to see it to be a dead leafless tree. But he was now sure he heard angry human voices from inside the house. He went inside. But as he was about to enter a big block of stone came flying at him followed the harsh laugh. Rakesh was saved by inches. He still went inside. When he was in, everything was still for a moment but then a big chandelier fell before him. He then heard chanting and saw a black magician inside. The magician was completely naked with vermilion all over his face dancing about the fire. Rakesh saw the magician tearing away chicken with his own mouth. The magician’s head was now as if rotating all around. His blood shot eyes then were engulfing Rakesh. The magician then started coming towards Rakesh with a big stick in his hand Rakesh once again heard that shrill laughter.

                Rakesh didn’t know what happened to him after that. He had collapsed. Surrounded by all his regretting friends, Rakesh woke up in a hospital remembering nothing.