dada n mishuk

 “Dearest Father,

You asked me recently why I maintain that I am afraid of you. As usual, I was unable to think of any answer to your question, partly for the very reason that I am afraid of you, and partly because an explanation of  the grounds for this fear would mean going into far more details than I could even approximately keep in mind while talking.”

Franz Kafka, one of the most intellectual writers of 20th century writes these lines to his father in a letter. Yesterday was going through some of his creations and stopped by these lines. The relationship between a father and his son can be of many kinds; the strict one, the affectionate one, the helpless one and the friendly one. I’m, may be, the mixture of all of them.

There are so many things left unsaid in our lives. Many of us can’t show our affection towards our children. But I really think, it is necessary to say kind words, hold their hands, and caress their head just to show we do care. Today, I just became conscious of these feelings. Mishuk my son is coming home after two and a half months.

The day he comes home, his face glows with joy. One thing I notice, whenever I gift him something he smiles, but he becomes super excited when I say, I’m going to be with him for the next couple of hours. The best gift you can give to your children is your consistent presence. I feel sorry for not being there with him all the time. Every time he comes, I make plans, schedule days to spend most of the time with him. But somehow, I could not make it for my previous commitments towards work. In the last moment, when I cancel plans he doesn’t say anything but looks shattered. He has grown up to learn how to hide feelings. But when I sit to talk to him, he just goes on. He has so much to say, to ask, to share with me. The bubbles of enthusiasm keep bursting.

This time, I have a long list of plans for him. After consecutive shooting for two films back to back, I have few days in my hands to spend with my family. Thinking to cook for him his favourite Chinese dish. Can’t wait to see his face after I make the official announcement of this! Haha!

One of my friends was telling, the concept of Father’s Day has been conceived by Archies; a special day to celebrate fatherhood. Well, we just need an occasion to celebrate, we are in search of excuses to make merry. Nothing harmful is in that. But I think the true worth of fatherhood can only be fathomed when a person becomes father himself. It is just as easy as difficult! Anyway, this time I’m going to walk the talk. Looking forward to have some fun time with Mishuk.

Love to all! God bless!



The Monsoon Diary


“বৃষ্টির চেতনায় ঘুমিয়েছিলাম

তখনও বৃষ্টি হচ্ছিল

বৃষ্টির গুনগুন ধ্বনি

কানে আন্দোলিত হচ্ছিল বারংবার।

বৃষ্টির ঘ্রাণ,বৃষ্টির স্পর্শ

আমার অবলুপ্ত চেতনাকে

পুলকিত করছিল শতবার …”

A peculiar characteristic of rain is, it awakens the poet within you. Seriously, it’s hard to find a person sitting beside the window, watching the rain without a single thought from the past or some superficial thought about the present situation gathering in his mind. Realizations and more realizations…what if, how could, if that, how much, why so etc.

When it rains my little study room, becomes my world in itself. The smell of the soil, feel the rain clips, the ominous clouds in the horizon. My sense organ becomes super active. Without notice I often find myself staring at the mystic sight. What a view!

In today’s generation people are so busy with their own life, that they often forget to enjoy the little happiness which only nature can provide. I generally shut all the doors, switched off my phone to enjoy this solitary bliss! The silence is tranquil.

Rain has some innate connection with nostalgia. All the memories rush to the mind and try to find a way to get expressed. We all have those paper-boat memories of our childhood when it rains. And playing football in the rain smeared with mud was a hell lot of happiness. It was so refreshing! Though I am often stuck in something or the other, I still make an effort to enjoy as much as possible. I crave for those old days!

But rain is particularly enjoyable when you are at home. The romanticism vanishes when you look at the other side of the story! While shooting in Orissa for Kamaleshwar Mukherjee’s next, the set got completely destroyed by the devastating rain. It takes hours and days to construct a set, and all became dust in few hours! All the hard work went in vain. We had to wait for two days to rebuild the set again. This was really unfortunate.

Moving on…no more cherishing the sad part of it! I’m in no mood to affect this peace of mind. What’s a rainy day without tea or coffee to pamper you? My tea is getting cold…

Happy Monsoon!!!

Love to all, stay Blessed.