Sunderban Delta Publication

It’s a curse to be born a woman. Yet ”One is not born, but rather becomes, a woman.”, once Simone de Beauvoir echoed. No eye bows are raised if the struggling illiterate parents marry off theirs ‘not yet come of age’ daughters to face the unknown outside world. The Ad of the movie ‘Titas Akti Nadir Nam’ successfully portrays the insensitivity of the society towards fairer sex ravaged by unwelcome events beyond their control.  In the image frame, the dominant brush colour is depressingly pinkish-white with black as the contrast. The twin colours do reflect a future of despair. The image prominently shows the face of a young rustic woman. The anguish is distinctly visible on her face, reflects nothing but gloom. The tears rolling down on one of her cheeks, warn of an impending calamity. The wrinkled eyebrows and the anguish on her forehead tell her own story to the viewers.  How far readers would agree with me that the portray reflects a universal struggle of the fairer sex since the

  Ma Durga Calling When the first beats of Drum “ Dhanng… Kur… Kur… Dhang” hits the Indian TV network announcing the arrival of season of Durga puja, a sudden pain spread through my chest – a loss that I cannot recoup. Why do I love to live in my not-so- happy past. Am I, a slave of nostalgia I think there are millions like me who live a life out of memories. But I am grieving more that I cannot walk through these events again in this life – there is only one road that heads north.   Anyway, when I first heard the typical drummer’s beats today, I took a journey into the first date of mine with Goddess Durga and her family. It was a time when I just joined my Kindergarden school and was trying hard to pick up “ A for Apple and B for Bakwass”. Mid sixties   A street named  Shukias Street  in northern part of Calcutta had one Srimani’s house – the ancestral city joint for British time Babus who used to entertain the  Firengis  with dance shows and dramas. The British charm is long

  After staying years away from the home, sometimes you feel the pain that you wish you could give the whole life for the welfare of the society. Banglar janya mon kemon kore. gram banglar roop ta jhakan maner aanginai bhase, mone hai ken jiban ta gramer dhulo makaha rastai katea deeina?( My mind yearns for Bengal, when the beauty of rural bengal flashes in my mind, I ask my mind why not spend the rest of my life on the dusty roads of Bangla! Jiban ta paisar aar sonsarer jatakole aaman bhabhe phasa, iicha thakleo durbal maner manusher pichutan ta boro bhoi paiee dei.( My life is so miserably chained in the wheel of  family and money, even if I wish I get frightened by my weaker mind pulling me back. That day I decided I would like to get engaged  with any hard working anonymous NGO who serve a small section of the Bengal hinterland without political affiliation and bias. I know of many heroes of Bengal, many unsung heroes of Bengal who have had selflessly untiringly serving for