जीवन को स्वीकारें, न कि बदलें – जो होगा, सो होगा।

हमारे जीवन में जब हम कोई कहानी पढ़ते हैं, कोई फिल्म देखते हैं या किसी से बातचीत करते हैं, तो कई बार अनजाने में भी कुछ नया सीख जाते हैं, जो हमारे अवचेतन में कहीं न कहीं दर्ज हो जाता है। और फिर आश्चर्यजनक रूप से, जब ज़रूरत पड़ती है, तो वह ज्ञान किसी समस्या का हल निकालने में काम आता है।

अभी जब मैं यह ब्लॉग लिख रहा हूँ, मेरे डाइनिंग हॉल में एलेक्सा पर क्लिंट ईस्टवुड की मशहूर फिल्म "द गुड, द बैड एंड द अगली" की सिग्नेचर ट्यून बज रही है। इस फिल्म का एक खास दृश्य हमेशा मेरे मन में ताज़ा रहता है। फिल्म में "द अगली" यानी तुको (इलाई वॉलेक) एक कठिन घुड़सवारी के बाद आराम से बाथटब में स्नान कर रहा होता है। अचानक एक बंदूकधारी अंदर घुसता है और तुको को मारने की धमकी देता है। तुको बिना एक पल गँवाए, पास रखी बंदूक उठाकर उसे गोली मार देता है और फिर वह अमर संवाद कहता है – "जब गोली चलानी हो, तब गोली चलाओ, बातें मत करो।"

इसमें एक गहरा सबक छिपा है – कई बार हम बेवजह की बातें करते रहते हैं और मुख्य मुद्दे से भटक जाते हैं, जिससे समय और ऊर्जा दोनों की बर्बादी होती है। बातों में वक्त गंवाने की बजाय, जो करना है वह सीधे करना चाहिए।

इसी तरह, फिल्म "कैसाब्लांका" के एक यादगार दृश्य का ज़िक्र करूँ तो वह है जब इंग्रिड बर्गमैन (इल्सा) रिक के कैफे में आती है और सैम (डूली विल्सन) से कहती है, "प्ले इट अगेन, सैम, फॉर ओल्ड टाइम्स सैक।" पहले तो सैम हिचकिचाता है, लेकिन फिर इल्सा के कहने पर वह "ऐज टाइम गोज़ बाय" बजाने लगता है। तभी अचानक रिक (हम्फ्री बोगार्ट) वहाँ आता है और गुस्से में सैम को डाँटता है, क्योंकि उसने सैम को वह गाना न बजाने के लिए कहा था। यह फिल्म नाकाम मोहब्बत और त्याग की कहानी है। रिक का किरदार सिखाता है कि कैसे मुश्किल हालातों का सामना करना चाहिए, चाहे कितनी भी भावनात्मक जटिलताएँ क्यों न हों।

शरलॉक होम्स की एक मशहूर कहानी "सिल्वर ब्लेज़" का एक प्रसंग भी अक्सर मेरे काम आता है। जब एक कीमती घोड़ा चोरी हो जाता है, तो स्कॉटलैंड यार्ड के जासूस ग्रेगरी पूछते हैं, "क्या कोई और बात है जिस पर आप ध्यान दिलाना चाहेंगे?" होम्स जवाब देते हैं, "वह घटना जो नहीं हुई – रात में कुत्ते के न भौंकने की घटना।" यहाँ से होम्स यह निष्कर्ष निकालता है कि चोर घोड़े के लिए परिचित था, इसलिए कुत्ता नहीं भौंका।

इस तरह से, जब भी मैं किसी समस्या का सामना करता हूँ, तो मेरा अवचेतन मन उन चीज़ों पर ध्यान केंद्रित करता है जो सामान्य नहीं होतीं। एक बार, एक संगठन में किसी व्यक्ति के खिलाफ एक चिट्ठी भेजी गई, जबकि उस संगठन में ऐसी नीतियाँ नहीं थीं। मैंने एचआर विभाग से चर्चा की और अपनी राय दी कि यह चिट्ठी शायद किसी निजी नाराजगी का परिणाम है। बाद में, एचआर और एक वरिष्ठ अधिकारी ने इस मामले को समझदारी से सुलझा लिया।

अंत में, डोरिस डे के अमर गीत "के सेरा सेरा, व्हाटेवर विल बी, विल बी" से भी मैंने एक महत्वपूर्ण सबक सीखा है। अब मैं इस गीत का संदेश अपनाकर जीवन को सहजता से जीता हूँ – चीज़ों को बदलने की कोशिश नहीं करता, बल्कि उन्हें जैसा है, वैसा स्वीकार करता हूँ और खुद को परिस्थिति के अनुसार ढाल लेता हूँ।

जो होगा सो होगा, भविष्य किसने देखा है? बस आज को सरलता से जीएं और हर स्थिति में समझदारी से काम ले l

Arun escaped death in Rishikesh, but a sadhu stole his youth in return.

The city of Kolkata was quiet that evening as the rains had just subsided, leaving behind a cool breeze that filtered through the curtains of my flat.

 Jogen sat across from me, a distant look in his eyes as he narrated this peculiar story about his old friend, Arun.            There was a sense of disbelief mixed with genuine concern in Jogen's voice, as he recounted the events that had transpired over the past few months.

 Arun had always been a deeply religious man, spending hours each day in prayer, fasting, and seeking guidance from holy men. But lately, his devotion had turned into desperation. His horoscope had predicted that he wouldn’t live past the age of 50, and as his 50th birthday drew closer, a sense of dread consumed him. His eyes searched for a miracle, something that could change his fate.

 One day, Arun had ventured to Rishikesh, a city nestled in the foothills of the Himalayas, known for its spiritual ashrams and mystic sadhus. The town, with its rolling hills and sacred river Ganges, was shrouded in an aura of timelessness. Pilgrims from all over the country came seeking salvation, wisdom, or—like Arun—a reprieve from their own mortality. 

 It was there, amidst the towering peaks and the gentle hum of temple bells, that Arun encountered the sadhu. He was an old man with long, matted hair, a face weathered by years of meditation, and eyes that seemed to hold the secrets of the universe. His ashram sprawled across the hilltop, surrounded by lush green forests and the distant echoes of the Ganges flowing below. The place was alive with the presence of devotees, clad in saffron robes, all seeking the teachings of the sadhu. The sadhu had told Arun that he could help him cheat death. There was a way, he said, but it required complete surrender. Arun, driven by fear and hope, agreed to follow the sadhu's instruction, leaving behind his old life for six months.

 The ashram was an expansive place, with stone steps leading up to a massive hall where the sadhu conducted his rituals. His chelas, disciples, worked tirelessly, maintaining the grounds, preparing meals, and chanting prayers, their voices merging with the sounds of the wind and water. Every morning, Arun would wake before dawn and sit in meditation with the sadhu. The first few days were difficult, but soon the rhythm of the ashram engulfed him. The sadhu had given Arun one specific rule: he was never to look at his own reflection. No mirrors were allowed. Arun complied without question, trusting the wisdom of the sadhu.

 Time passed slowly in the ashram, the days blending into each other, as Arun grew more absorbed in his practice. Yet, he began to notice something strange. His body felt different. He felt weaker, older. His joints ached, his hair turned gray. Concerned, he approached the sadhu, who merely smiled and assured him that this was part of the process, a transformation that was necessary for his salvation. The sadhu's words, spoken with such certainty, calmed Arun's fears.

 And then, one day, without warning, the sadhu vanished. In his place appeared a young man, clean-shaven and full of vitality. The young man bore a striking resemblance to the sadhu, but his eyes—those same eyes that had once held the weight of wisdom—now seemed alight with youth. The man instructed Arun to leave the ashram and return home. 

Confused and disoriented, Arun obeyed, but as he made his way down the hill toward the town, a deep sense of dread washed over him. He stopped at a local shop and, for the first time in six months, bought a mirror. The reflection that stared back at him was unrecognizable. His face was wrinkled, his skin sagged, and his hair had turned completely white. Arun had aged twenty years in the span of months.

 Realization dawned on him—the sadhu had stolen his youth. 

 The story weighed heavily on my mind as Jogen finished speaking. Arun, now back in Kolkata, was a shadow of his former self, looking like a man in his sixties rather than his forties. But I couldn’t help but note the irony. "By default," I said, trying to lighten the mood, "Arun has escaped the prediction. His danger of dying before 50 has passed. He’s aged, but he’s alive." Jogen nodded, though he still seemed disturbed by the thought of the sadhu and his dark magic. "It’s strange, isn't it? The sadhu helped him escape death, but only by stealing his years. He lives... but at what cost?"

 As I sat there, thinking of the sprawling hills of Rishikesh, the ancient ashram, and the enigmatic sadhu who had exchanged youth for life, I wondered if there were other such stories—hidden in the mist of the mountains, waiting to be uncovered.

মাটির মানুষ

চরিত্র:

- **কমলবাবু**: পুরুলিয়ার ভালপাহাড়ের বাসিন্দা, যিনি মাটি ও মানুষের সাথে গভীরভাবে যুক্ত।

- **ভাটেল হেমব্রম**: একজন প্রবীণ সাঁওতাল উপজাতি, যিনি 'ডাউজার' হিসেবে পরিচিত, ভূগর্ভস্থ জল খোঁজার বিশেষজ্ঞ।

- **রাজীব**: শহরের বন্ধু, যিনি ঐতিহ্যবাহী পদ্ধতি নিয়ে সন্দিহান।

- **ডেলা হেমব্রম**: একজন তরুণ সাঁওতাল মেয়ে, পর্যবেক্ষক ও কৌতূহলী।

- **মনসারাম কুজুর**: সাঁওতাল উপজাতির আরেকজন প্রবীণ, জ্ঞানী ও ধৈর্যশীল।

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 দৃশ্য ১: কমলবাবুর আবাস, ভালপাহাড়

কমলবাবু ভালপাহাড়ের ছোট্ট বাড়ির বারান্দায় বসে আড্ডা দিচ্ছিলেন, আর সূর্য পশ্চিমে হেলে পড়েছে। আমি এবং আমার স্ত্রী মিষ্টি বাতাসের মাঝে বসে তাঁর গল্প শুনছিলাম। শহরের ক্লান্তি থেকে মুক্তি পেতে আমরা এখানে এসেছি।

**আমি**: "কমলবাবু, আপনি আমাদের এই জায়গার অনেক চমকপ্রদ গল্প বলেছেন। কিন্তু সম্প্রতি আমি শুনেছি সাঁওতালরা লাঠি দিয়ে ভূগর্ভস্থ জল খোঁজে। এটা কি সত্যি?"

**কমলবাবু**: (মুচকি হেসে) "হ্যাঁ, এটি একটি প্রাচীন শিল্প। let me share an extraordinary experience I had with the Santhals, particularly with Bhatel Hembram, the oldest dowser among them."

**আমি**: (উত্তেজিত হয়ে) "আচ্ছা, বলুন।"

**কমলবাবু**: "একদিন কলকাতা থেকে আমার বন্ধু রাজীব এসেছিল।"

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 দৃশ্য ২: পুরুলিয়ার গরম দিন

সেদিন খুব গরম পড়েছিল। মাটির উপরের তাপ এত বেশি ছিল যে  মনে হচ্ছিল চাঁদি ফেটে যাবে। বাপরে বাপ এরকম গরম আগে কখনও দেখি নি l গাছপালা শুকনো এবং ঝুলে পড়েছে। কমলবাবু,রাজীব, ভাটেল, ডেলা, এবং মনসারাম প্রস্তুত হচ্ছিল। ভাটেল একটি Y-আকৃতির লাঠি হাতে নিয়ে দলের সাথে গরম রোদে হাঁটতে শুরু করল।

ডেলা: (ভাটেলের পাশে হাঁটতে হাঁটতে) "দাদু, আপনি কিভাবে জানেন জল কোথায়? এটা কি জাদু?"

ভাটেল: (মৃদু হেসে) "জাদু নয়, নাতনি। এটি এমন একটি দক্ষতা যা আমি আমার বাপ ঠাকুরদা র কাছ থেকে পেয়েছি। লাঠি আমার সাথে কথা বলে।"

মনসারাম: (মাথা নাড়িয়ে) "ভাটেল সবসময় এটি অনুভব করে। তার বাবা-দাদা ও একইভাবে এটি করেছেন। এটি এমন কিছু যা আপনি আপনার হাড়ে অনুভব করেন।"

কমলবাবু: (রাজীবকে বোঝাতে) "রাজীব, দেখ, এখানে মাটি শুকিয়ে গেছে এবং জল খোঁজা অত্যন্ত জরুরি। সাঁওতালরা তাদের জীবন ধারনের জন্য এই প্রাচীন প্রথার উপর নির্ভর করে।"

রাজীব: (সন্দেহভরে) "এবং এই লাঠিটি আসল সম্বল, বিশ্বাস হয় না?"

ভাটেল: (হেসে) "দেখবেন বন্ধু। পৃথিবীর সাথে যোগাযোগ করার নিজস্ব উপায় আছে।"

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দৃশ্য ৩: অনুসন্ধান শুরু

দলটি নিরলস সূর্যের তাপে হাঁটতে থাকে, মাইলের পর মাইল। Y-আকৃতির লাঠিটি শক্ত হাতে ধরে, ভাটেল মাটির ওপরের সূক্ষ্ম পরিবর্তনগুলো পর্যবেক্ষণ করছে। ডেলা তাকে নিবিড়ভাবে দেখছে এবং তার পদক্ষেপগুলি অনুকরণ করছে।

ডেলা: (কমলবাবুকে ফিসফিস করে) "দাদু, আপনি কি মনে করেন আজ জল পাওয়া যাবে?"

কমলবাবু: (মাথায় হাত বুলিয়ে) " হ্যাঁ রে পাগলি,জল পাওয়া গেলে ভাটেল পাবে।"

ভাটেল হঠাৎ থেমে হাত তুলে বলেন, "চুপ, সবাই। আমি শুনতে পাচ্ছি।" দলের সদস্যরা থেমে যায় এবং সব শব্দ স্তব্ধ হয়ে যায়। ভাটেল স্থির হয়ে দাঁড়ান, লাঠিটি মাটির দিকে নিচু হয়ে যায়। হঠাৎ, লাঠিটি যেন একটি জীবন্ত জিনিস, মাটির দিকে সোজা ঝাঁপিয়ে পড়ে!

ভাটেল: (ফোকলা দেঁতো হেঁসে) "এখানে। জল এখানে।"

রাজীব: (আশ্চর্য হয়ে) "আপনি এত নিশ্চিত কীভাবে?"

ভাটেল: (আত্মবিশ্বাসের সাথে) "লাঠি কথা বলেছে। এখানে খোঁড়ো।"

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 দৃশ্য ৪: খনন

সবাই ভাটেলের দেখানো জায়গা খোঁড়া শুরু করে। সূর্য পশ্চিমে হেলে পড়েছে এবং তাদের ঘাম ঝরছে। ঘণ্টা ঘণ্টা ধরে খনন করা হলেও, কিছুই পাওয়া যাচ্ছে না।

রাজীব: (হাঁপাতে হাঁপাতে) "আপনি নিশ্চিত, ভাটেল? আমরা ঘণ্টার পর ঘণ্টা খনন করছি।"

মনসারাম: (খুঁড়তে হাঁটতে) "ধৈর্য ধরো, রাজীব। পৃথিবী তার গুপ্তধন প্রকাশ করতে সময় নেয়।"

ডেলা: (উৎসাহিত হয়ে) "দাদু কখনো ভুল করেননি।"

হঠাৎ, একজন খননকারীর  চিৎকার।

খননকারী: "জল! জল দেখতে পাচ্ছি!"

দলটি উল্লাসে নেচে উঠলো। জলের একটি ছোট স্রোত গর্তে গড়াতে শুরু করে এবং ধীরে ধীরে আয়তনে বৃদ্ধি পায়।

ভাটেল: (নিঃশব্দে হেসে) "এটা নির্ভর করে কে কত বিশ্বাস নিয়ে জিগেস করছে, তবে পৃথিবী সব সময় দিচ্ছে, আমরা পৃথিবীকে মর্যাদা দি না।"

কমলবাবু: (রাজীবের দিকে ফিরে) "এখন কি তুমি পুরানো পদ্ধতিতে বিশ্বাস করো, বন্ধু?"

রাজীব: (বিস্ময়ে) "আমি বিশ্বাস করতে পারছি না। এটি অবিশ্বাস্য।"

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 দৃশ্য ৫: ভালপাহাড়ে ফিরে

দলটি ভালপাহাড়ে ফিরে আসে, ক্লান্ত কিন্তু বিজয়ী। তারা ল্যাম্পের চারপাশে বসে, গল্প ও খাবার ভাগ করে নেয়।

কমলবাবু*: (রাজীবের উদ্দেশে) "এখানেই জীবন। আমাদের প্রবীণদের পুরানো পদ্ধতি ও প্রজ্ঞা আমাদের টিকিয়ে রাখে।"

রাজীব: (চিন্তা করে) "এই ঐতিহ্য থেকে আমরা অনেক কিছু শিখতে পারি। এটি হারিয়ে না যায় যেমন আমরা আধুনিকতার চাপে জল ফ্রিজে রাখি।"

ডেলা: (ভাটেলের পাশে বসে) "দাদু, আমাকে লাঠি শুনতে শেখাবে?"

ভাটেল: (ওর মাথায় হাত দেয়) "একদিন হবে। আপাতত, আমাদের উচিত পৃথিবীর কথা শোনা ও সম্মান দেওয়া, গাছপালা বাঁচিয়ে রাখা। তখন জল খোঁজার জন্য এত কষ্ট করতে হবে না।"

মনসারাম: (কাপ তুলে) "ভাটেলের কাছে, জলের ফিসফিসকারী এবং পুরানো পদ্ধতি যা আমাদের গাইড।"

সবাই: (কাপ তুলে) "ভাটেল!"

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 দৃশ্য ৬: একটি শান্ত প্রতিফলন

রাতে, কমলবাবু এবং রাজীব বারান্দায় বসে আকাশের দিকে তাকাচ্ছেন। 

রাজীব: (নিরবতা ভেঙে) "ধন্যবাদ আমার সাথে শেয়ার করার জন্য, কমলবাবু। এটি একটি অভাবনীয় অভিজ্ঞতা ।"

কমলবাবু: (মাথা নাড়িয়ে) "মাটি অনেক কিছু গোপন রাখে, রাজীব। আর এখানকার মানুষ শুনতে শিখেছে। এটি মনে রাখার মতো একটি পাঠ।"

রাজীব: (মুচকি হেসে) "আমি এটা কখনো ভুলব না।"

রাত গভীর হয়, এবং গ্রামের শব্দগুলি শান্তিপূর্ণ ছন্দে স্থির হয়। পুরুলিয়ার বিস্তীর্ণ আকাশের নীচে, পৃথিবী এবং এর লোকদের জ্ঞান একটি নিরন্তর ফিসফিস রয়ে গেছে, যুগে যুগে তাদের পথ দেখায়।

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**কমলবাবু** যখন অক্লান্ত ও নিঃস্বার্থভাবে ৩০ লক্ষ গাছ লাগালেন, তখন একটি পুকুর মাঝখানে সৃষ্টি হলো, জলাভাব কিছুটা কমলো এবং হয়তো ডাউজারের আর দরকার পড়ে না l

আজ কমল বাবু নেই কিন্তু ঐ তিরিশ লক্ষ গাছ তাঁর কাজের সাক্ষী l তিনি ঐ তিরিশ লক্ষ গাছ, মাটি, পুকুর এর মধ্যে দিয়ে আমদের মধ্যেই সর্বদা আছেন l জয় বৃক্ষনাথ!

Remembering Dr. Kamal Chakraborty: A beacon of compassion, wisdom, and literary brilliance..........

Remembering Dr. Kamal Chakraborty: A beacon of compassion, wisdom, and literary brilliance.

.........

Dr. Kamal Chakraborty, a towering figure of humanism, philanthropy, and literature, left for his heavenly abode yesterday, leaving behind a legacy that will continue to inspire generations. As the founder of Bhalopahar School, he dedicated his life to the education and upliftment of Santhal students in Purulia, ensuring that the light of knowledge reached the most underprivileged corners of society. 

To me, Dr. Chakraborty was not just a close friend but a man with a golden heart. His warmth, generosity, and unwavering commitment to the betterment of others set him apart as a beacon of hope and compassion. It was through his support and encouragement that my Bengali short stories saw the light of day, with their release at the Kolkata Book Fair—a moment made all the more special by his presence.

His book stall at the fair was always a highlight for me, a place where literature came alive with his stories and recollections. But now, with his absence, the fair will never be the same; it will feel lifeless, a shadow of the vibrant experience it once was. 

Three years ago, my wife and I had the privilege of visiting Bhalopahar, a visit made unforgettable by Dr. Chakraborty's engaging anecdotes about Bengali literary icons like Sunil Ganguly, Samaresh Majumder, Nabanita Dev Sen, and Shankha Ghose—luminaries who were not just his contemporaries but his dear friends. His stories brought these literary giants to life, making us feel as though we were part of their circle, if only for a moment.

We had promised to return, but now, with his departure, another visit to Bhalopahar seems unimaginable. The world has lost not just a brilliant mind and a compassionate soul but also a rare individual whose life was a testament to the power of kindness and the written word.

Dr. Kamal Chakraborty's legacy will live on in the countless lives he touched and in the pages of the books he helped bring to the world. He will be deeply missed, but his spirit will forever remain a guiding light for those of us fortunate enough to have known him. #bhalopahar #drkamalchakraborty

A brew of coincidence

Chapter 1: The New Machine

SNR had always prided himself on his ability to learn new things. Whether it was a new technology during his days at BHEL or the latest gadget that caught his eye, he loved the challenge of mastering it. So, when he purchased a sleek, modern coffee maker, he was excited. He imagined himself brewing the perfect cup of cappuccino, the rich aroma filling the kitchen, and the frothy milk creating that perfect balance of bitterness and creaminess.

But the reality was far from his expectations. The first few attempts were a disaster. The espresso was either too weak or too bitter, the milk barely frothed, and the result was a sad, lukewarm imitation of what he had hoped for. Frustrated but undeterred, SNR decided to approach the problem like any other—by analyzing it.

He soon discovered that the secret to a good espresso lay in the coffee's grind. The finer the grind, the more intense the flavor. After experimenting with different types of beans and adjusting the grinder, SNR finally managed to pull a shot that was dark, aromatic, and strong. But there was still the matter of the milk. Whole milk, he learned, was the key to getting that rich, velvety froth. Fat-free milk just wouldn’t cut it.

After several trials and errors, he finally managed to create a cup that was close to what he wanted. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a start. Satisfied with his progress, SNR decided to take a break and indulge in another of his passions—reading.

Chapter 2: A Parallel Struggle

SNR had been engrossed in Fredrik Backman’s *Us Against You*, the second book in the Beartown series. The small town’s struggles, its characters’ intertwined fates, and the emotional depth of the story had captivated him from the start. He admired the way Backman portrayed human relationships, with all their complexities and imperfections.

As he read, SNR came across a passage that made him pause. Peter, one of the central characters, was struggling with a new coffee maker, a gift from his daughter, Maya. Peter’s experience mirrored SNR’s own—fumbling with the unfamiliar machine, the frustration of not getting it right, and the small victories when he finally managed to brew a decent cup.

SNR chuckled to himself, marveling at the coincidence. He could almost picture Peter in his kitchen, muttering to himself as he tried to figure out the machine’s settings. It was as if Backman had been observing Roy’s own struggles and decided to write them into the story.

As he continued reading, SNR found himself increasingly drawn to Peter’s character. Peter’s determination to get the coffee right, despite his initial failures, resonated with him. It wasn’t just about the coffee—it was about the small, everyday challenges that we all face, and the sense of satisfaction that comes from overcoming them.

Chapter 3: The Connection

Later that evening, SNR sat down with his newly brewed cappuccino, savoring the rich taste and the perfectly frothed milk. He thought about the journey that had led him to this moment—the trials, the errors, the learning, and finally, the success. It wasn’t just about making coffee; it was about the process of learning and adapting, something he had done all his life.

He picked up *Us Against You* again, his thoughts lingering on Peter. SNR realized that, like Peter, he too was navigating the complexities of life, albeit in different ways. Whether it was mastering a new coffee maker or managing the challenges of aging, the key was to keep going, to keep learning, and to find joy in the small victories.

SNR smiled, feeling a sense of camaraderie with the fictional character. It was as if Peter had become a friend, someone who understood the struggles and triumphs of life. And in that moment, the line between fiction and reality blurred, leaving SNR with the comforting thought that, in the end, we’re all just trying to brew the perfect cup—one day at a time.

কাঁটা তার

আমি অন্য দিনের মত সেদিনও লেকের ধারে হাঁটছিলাম সকালে l সারা রাত বৃষ্টি পড়েছে, গাছ থেকে ফোঁটা ফোঁটা জল ,একটু ভিজে ভিজে ভাব l হাফ প্যান্ট আর টিশার্ট এ আমি l টিশার্ট ঘামে ভেজা, বেশ জোরেই হাঁটছিলাম, পেছন থেকে কে যেন আমায় ডাকছে l

স্যার, একটু শুনবেন?

আমি ঘুরে দাঁড়ালাম, এই কুড়ি বাইশ বয়েসের এক যুবক, সাধারণ জামা কাপড়, মাঝারি হাইট l

আপনি কি,আমার নাম বললো l

হ্যাঁ,কেনো?

আপনি কি ফারাক্কায় ছিলেন,এই বিরানব্বই, তিরানব্বই সাল l

ছিলাম, কেন জিগেস করছো?

আমার দিকে একটা পুরনো মানি ব্যাগ এগিয়ে দেয় আর বলে এটা কি আপনার? এই ব্যাগে আপনার পুরনো ভিজিটিং কার্ড পেলাম, সেটা দেখে NTPC থেকে আপনার খোঁজ পাই!

ব্যাগটা হাতে নিলাম,অনেক পুরানো কথা মনে পড়ে গেল l

আমার জীবনে ফারাক্কা পোস্টিং একটা বিশেষ চ্যাপ্টার, আমার বাংলায় প্রথম পোস্টিং, সেই তিন বছর বাংলা কে খুবই কাছ থেকে দেখেছি l ঘেরাও দেখেছি এবং ঘেরাও হয়েছি l কিন্তু চুটিয়ে সেমি আরবান বাংলা উপভোগ করেছি l

ফারাক্কায় প্রথম লিচু বাগানে গাছ থেকে পেড়ে লিচু খাওয়া কিম্বা আমের সময় সদ্য গাছ থেকে নামানো পাকা মালদা আম, সব ঐ টেম্পোরারি ওয়ার্কার দের দৌলতে,ওরা ওদের গ্রামে নিয়ে যেতো l

সে সব গ্রামে গাড়ি ঢোকে না, কাঁচা রাস্তা, ছড়িয়ে ছিটিয়ে ওদের বাড়ি আর লিচু কিম্বা আম গাছ বাড়ির সামনে, কাছেই পুকুর l

তবে ইলেক্ট্রিসিটি পৌঁছেছে l তখন অবশ্য এখনকার মত বাড়িতে বাড়িতে টিভি ছিল না, হ্যাঁ ট্রানজিস্টরে গান ভেসে আসতো l

আমার বাংলোর দেওয়াল পেরিয়ে রাস্তা গঙ্গার ধার দিয়ে, ফারাক্কা ব্যারেজ থেকে বেরিয়ে গঙ্গা মোহনার দিকে l

বাংলো টা এনটিপিসির টেম্পোরারি টাউনশিপে!

সামনে গার্ড গেটে, ওদের থেকে নানা রকম গুজব আর খবর পেতাম l

আমার পুরানো ব্যাগ টা নিয়ে ছেলেটি কে বললাম চলো ঐ বেঞ্চে বসি, জিগেস করলাম, তোমার নাম?

বরকত,সে বললো l

আমার আব্বু এই ব্যাগটা খুব যত্ন করে রাখতেন l

আমার মন আমাকে ফারাক্কায় ফিরিয়ে নিয়ে গেল l

সে এক মজার ঘটনা, বরকতের বাবা জাফির প্রায় আমার কাছে আসত, ও কন্ত্রাক্টরি করত l জোয়ান আমার চেয়ে অনেক ছোট, তখনও ওর বিয়ে হয় নি lজাফীর আমাকে বলেছিল সে প্রায় বাংলাদেশে যায়, জিগেস করছিলাম ভিসা কি করে জোগাড় করে ! 

আমাদের ভিসা টিসা লাগেনা,  বাবার হাত ধরে কালিয়াচকে বাজার করতে আসতাম বেড়া পেরিয়ে, এখনও অনেক লোক ওপার থেকে এসে কলিয়াচকে রিক্সা চালিয়ে টাকা কামিয়ে চলে যায়,ওদের বাপ ঠাকুরদা ঐ কাজই করত l

ভাবলাম সত্যিত বেড়া তো পার্টিশনের পরে লেগেছে, ওরা কিন্তু এটা মেনে নিতে পারেনি পেটের দায় l কই পাখি গুলো তো বেশ এদেশ থেকে ওদেশে যায় , ওদের তো কোনও ভিসা লাগেনা, এটা প্রায় সেই রকম ! অনেক বছর পরে আগরতলা যাই, ওখানের বিখ্যাত কালী বাড়ি টিলার ওপরে, সামনে বেড়া আর ওপারে বাংলাদেশের রেলওয়ে লাইন l ওখানেও জানতে পারি যে ওপার থেকে বাংলাদেশী এপারে দিন মজুরি করে বিকেলে ফিরে যায় l এখন অবশ্য সব কাঁটা তার দিয়ে ঘেরা l

মজা করে জাফির কে বললাম আমাকে একদিন ঐ রাস্তা দিয়ে বাংলাদেশ নিয়ে চল l

আপনি যাবেন,কিন্তু আপনা কে লুঙ্গি ফেজ এসব পরতে হবে, যাতে ওদের সংগে মিশে জান l

ও পরের দিন লুঙ্গি ফেজ নিয়ে হাজির, চলুন এক রত্তিরের তো ব্যাপার l

আমিও লুঙ্গি টুঙ্গি পরে বেরিয়ে পড়লাম, ভাগ্যিস গিন্নি আর ছেলে কলকাতা গেছে!

চড়লাম ওর মোটর সাইকেলের পেছনে, গার্ড কে চোখ টিপে বলালম কারুকে না বলতে! 

দাদু গার্ড ডিউটি তে ছিল, ফোকলা দাঁতে হেঁসে মাথা নাড়লো l

জাফির কে আমি মনে মনে গহর ভাবতাম, শ্রীকান্ত র সেই বন্ধু যে কমললতা কে ভালবাসত আর আমি শ্রীকান্ত আমার প্রিয় চরিত্র, জানি না কতবার শ্রীকান্ত পড়েছি, রোমাঞ্চকর ছন্য ছাড়া জীবন l কমল লতা ছবিতে উত্তম শ্রীকান্ত আর নির্মল কুমার গহর, সুচিত্রা কমল লতা!

বোধ হয় সেই দিন একটু বেপরোয়া হয়ে গেছিলাম, শ্রীকান্তের ভূত আমাকে পে বসেছিল l

জাফির মোটর সাইকেল চালাতে চালাতে মজা করে বললো একটু মেহেন্দি চুলে লাগাতে পারতেন! বেশ লাগছে ফ্রেঞ্চ কাট দাড়ি তে l আমি তখন ফ্রেঞ্চ কাট রাখতাম,মা মারা যাবার পর ছেঁটে দিয়েছিলাম l মনে পড়ে গেল মা দশ দিন আমার এখানে কাটিয়ে গেছে, রোজ গঙ্গার ধারে বেড়াতে যেত, ভালই দিনগুলি কাটিয়ে গেছিল!

আমি যদিওবা লুঙ্গি পরেছিলাম কিন্তু ভেতরে প্যান্ট আর প্যান্টের পকেটে আমার নতুন মানি ব্যাগ, কোনো আইডেন্টিটি কার্ড ছিলনা, মনে হয় জাফির পরে ওটা রেখেছিল l আমি নীল রঙের  ফতুয়া পরে ছিলাম!

প্ল্যান অনুযায়ী আমরা কালিয়াচকের একটা চায়ের দোকানে আসি l জাফির বাইকটা পার্ক করে আর আমরা চায়ের দোকানে ঢুকি আর অপেক্ষা করতে থাকি কখন বাংলাদেশীরা ঘর ফেরার জন্য আসবে l কথা ছিল আমরা ওদের সঙ্গে দল বেঁধে যাবো, বিএসএফ এর সংগে একটা সমঝোতা ছিলো l

কিন্তু কিছুক্ষণ পরে দেখি এনটিপিসি তে কর্ম রত এক cisf (Central Industrial Security Force)জোয়ান ঢোকে আর আমাকে স্যালুট দিয়ে বলে স্যার আপনি এখানে l আমি একটু অপ্রস্তুত হয়ে বলি এই ভাবলাম যদি কিছু বাংলাদেশ থেকে পাচার মাছ পাওয়া যায় l জোয়ান টা সিম্পল টাইপ, বলল স্যার ফারাক্কা বাজারের চেয়ে ভালো মাছ কোথায় পাবেন, গঙ্গার টাটকা মাছ l ও কিন্তু আমার ঐ সাজ দেখে কিছু বললো না, মনে হয় ঐ পরিস্থিতে ওটাই স্বাভাবিক ভেবে!

আমি বললাম ঠিক বলেছো, চলো হে জাফির ফেরা যাক l

আমার সেদিন বাংলাদেশ যাওয়া হলনা l আমি আমার টাকা সমেত মানি ব্যাগ জাফির কে গিফট করি,কমসে কম এতটা পথ তো এলাম আর শুধু 10 কিলোমিটার বাকি ছিল বাংলাদেশ যাওয়ার , কাঁটা তার l

পরে অবশ্য ফারাক্কা থেকে বাংলাদেশের মাটিতে পা দিয়েছিলাম আমদের সেন্ট্রাল গভর্মেন্ট অডিটারদের দৌলতে l ওরা আমাকে অনুরোধ করল বাংলাদেশ বর্ডার দেখাতে l গেলাম ওদের নিয়ে, অডিটের ছেলে গুলো পাঞ্জাবি,ওরা বিএসএফ কে পটালো, বললো ভাই আমদের ঐ সাঁকো টা অব্দি যেতে দাও বাংলাদেশের ভেতরে, আমরা তাহলে চাল মেরে আমাদের দিল্লির বন্ধুদের বলতে পারি যে আমরা বাংলাদেশ ঘুরে এসেছি ! পাঞ্জাবিরা এমনিতে খুব সহজেই বন্ধু হয় যায়,ওরাই আমদের বেশ কিছু ভেতরে নিয়ে গেলো l বর্ডারের গ্রাম যেরকম হয়, খেত, সবুজ সবজি, জলা মাঠ, কিছু ছবির তোলা হলো l ব্যাস, বাংলাদেশ ঘোরা হলো l

আমি ভাবুক হয়ে লেকের ধারে বরকতের সঙ্গে বসে হাতে আমার পুরানো ব্যাগ l

ও আমায় জানালো যে জাফির কোরণায় মারা যায় ও এখন ওর ব্যাবসা চালাবার চেষ্টা করছে l আমি ওকে জিগেস করলাম কোনো পয়সার দরকার আছে, ও বললো না l 

আমি ওকে আমার চেনা ফারাক্কার কিছু কন্ট্রাক্টরের মোবাইল নম্বর দিলাম! মনটা ভরাক্রান্ত হয়েগেলো ভেবে জাফীর আর নেই, ওর হাসি খুশি মুখ চোখের সামনে ভাসতে লাগলো,ওর ভব ঘুরে জীবনের গল্প ছবির মত আমার মনের পর্দায় ভাসতে লাগলো ,আমি আর বরকত লেকের ধারে বসে, কিন্তু আমার মন তখন তিরিশ বছর আগের ফারাক্কায় ঘুর পাক খাচ্ছে l

A Reunion with Shadows: Rediscovering Srikanta

The Mysterious Srikanta

Chapter 1: A Chance Encounter

In the sprawling expanse of Farakka, amidst the humming of machines and the constant bustle of construction,  I found a peculiar companion in Srikanta. A village boy from Bengal, Srikanta had an aura of simplicity and mystery that intrigued me. We first met when Srikanta showed up at my bungalow, offering freshly plucked mangoes from his village. From then on, our bond grew stronger. 

Srikanta would vanish for months, only to reappear with baskets of seasonal fruits like litchis and jackfruits. Colleagues warned me about this enigmatic man, hinting at his dubious background. But I didn't bother as I can judge a person easily having dealt with thousands,I  saw a reflection of my older cousin and uncle, both colorful characters in their own right. Srikanta never asked for favors and was always there when I  needed him, fostering a mutual trust between us.

Chapter 2: Whispers of the Past

My personal assistant once confided in me that Srikanta was originally from Bangladesh and had been involved in political struggles there. In Bengal, where politics polarized people into left or anti-left factions, I  remained neutral. This neutrality perhaps drew Srikanta closer to me. However, i never pried into Srikanta's past, content with the unspoken understanding that existed between us.

Ournconnection was unshakable until I  completed my stint at Farakka. With my transfer in 1994, Srikanta disappeared, leaving behind memories of shared fruits and silent camaraderie.

Chapter 3: An Unexpected Reunion

Years later, after retirement, I frequented Ooty for meetings related to windmills. On one such visit, I spotted a familiar face among the tea gardens' serene beauty—Srikanta. Time had aged us both, but the spark of recognition was immediate. Srikanta invited me to his bungalow, nestled within the tea estate. Despite the passage of years, Srikanta's restless energy remained unchanged.

Over tea, Srikanta revealed the strange story of his journey to Ooty. He confirmed he was from Bangladesh and had indeed been embroiled in political turmoil. But his tale took an unexpected turn when he mentioned a wealthy Bangladeshi benefactor who had changed his life.

Chapter 4: The Twist

Srikanta recounted how he met this wealthy Bangladeshi during a particularly perilous time. The benefactor, impressed by Srikanta's resilience and resourcefulness, offered him a new beginning away from the political chaos. Srikanta was given the responsibility of managing a tea estate in Ooty, a perfect cover to escape his past.

However, as the night deepened and their conversation continued over dinner, I sensed a subtle dissonance. Despite the familiarity, certain details didn't align with his memories. The next day, at my hotel, i received a letter that unraveled the truth. The letter was from the man i had met, who confessed that he was not Srikanta. He had gathered the details of my friendship with Srikanta from my enthusiastic recounting and felt compelled to continue the charade.

The letter read:

 Dear Mr. Roy,  

Meeting you yesterday was an unexpected yet cherished experience. I must admit, I am not the Srikanta you knew. Your spontaneous joy and detailed memories of Srikanta carried me into a role I had never imagined playing. As our conversation progressed, I felt a bond that, for those few hours, made me feel as if I truly was your old friend.  

 I apologize for the deception, but I couldn't bring myself to disrupt the warmth of our reunion. I hope you can forgive me and cherish the memory as much as I do. I promise to stay in touch, for now, you have a new friend who holds the spirit of your old one.  

Yours sincerely,  

 Not-Srikanta

Chapter 5: A Bond Rekindled

I sat with the letter, a mix of emotions swirling within him. While the revelation was startling, it didn't diminish the warmth of our interaction. In a way, I  had found Srikanta again, not in person, but in spirit. This new friend, who had stepped into Srikanta's shoes, had brought back a part of the past I had cherished.

I penned a reply, expressing his gratitude for the encounter and his understanding of the situation. I concluded by affirming that the bond we had formed was real, regardless of the name it was under.

As i left Ooty, I  felt a renewed sense of connection. Life had a strange way of bringing people together, and sometimes, it took an unexpected twist to rekindle old bonds. I looked forward to future meetings with my new friend, knowing that the spirit of Srikanta would always be with me, in a different form but just as meaningful.

মল রোডের সেই রাত্তির

 "যখন আমি দার্জিলিংয়ে আমার হোটেলে ফিরে এলাম, তখন কুয়াশাচ্ছন্ন রাতের বাতাস আমাকে স্যাঁতসেঁতে কফিনের মতো আঁকড়ে ধরেছিল। স্ট্রিটলাইটগুলি, নিচে চলে আসা মেঘের দ্বারা বিচ্ছুরিত, নির্জন রাস্তায় একটি ভয়ঙ্কর আভা ফেলেছিল। আমি বুঝতে পারছিলাম অনুভব যে কেউ যেন আমাকে ফলো করছে, আমার হাড় হিম হয়ে আসছে আমি এই হিল স্টেশনে ভৌতিক এনকাউন্টারের অনেক গল্প শুনেছি এবং আমি ভাবছিলাম যে আমি এই অলৌকিক ইতিহাসের সর্বশেষ অধ্যায় হতে যাচ্ছি না তো l

 “হু ইস দেয়ার?”  আমি ডাকলাম, আমার আওয়াজ ঐ ঘনো জঙ্গলের বড় বড় গাছে Echo হয়ে আমার কাছে ফিরে এলো যেন ভেগচাঁচে.  প্রতিক্রিয়াটি ছিল একটি উপহাসমূলক নীরবতা, আমি ভাবতে লাগলাম যে আমি একজন ব্রিটিশ কর্নেলের অস্থির আত্মা নাকি কোন দুষ্টু গোর্খার প্রেতাত্মা আমাকে পরীক্ষা করছে ।

 আমার মাথায় তখন অনেক রকমের চিন্তা ঘুর পাক খাচ্ছে , তখন একটি দৃঢ় পদধ্বনি আমায় বাস্তবে ফিরিয়ে আনে ।  কুয়াশা থেকে সেনাবাহিনীর পোশাক পরা এক দুরন্ত ভদ্রলোক বেরিয়ে এলেন, প্রতিটা বিন্দু অবসরপ্রাপ্ত অ্যাংলো-ইন্ডিয়ান কর্নেলের ড্রেস ।  কিথ, সে নিজের পরিচয় দিল, তার মুখে একটা বেপরোয়া হাঁসিl

 "মনে হচ্ছে কেউ তোমাকে অনুসরণ করছে, তাই না?"  তিনি জিজ্ঞাসা করলেন, তার কণ্ঠস্বর নিচু এবং ষড়যন্ত্রমূলক।  আমি মাথা নাড়লাম, এবং সে জেনেশুনে হাসল।  "আমার সাথেও হয়, বুড়ো মানুষ। তবে শুধুমাত্র শীতকালে। আমার মনে হয় এটা কুয়াশা এবং পাইন গাছ আমাদের সাথে ছলচাতুরি করছে।"

 আমি স্বস্তির নিঃশ্বাস ফেললাম, ভাবলাম হয়তো এটা গ্রীষ্মকালে আমার আর্থ্রাইটিসের ঋতুর সমতুল্য।  কিথের আশ্বস্ত হাসি ইঙ্গিত দেয় যে কিছু রহস্য অমীমাংসিত রেখে দেওয়া ভাল, দার্জিলিং এর মল রোডের ঐতিহ্যগত আকর্ষণ রক্ষা করে।

 এক পলকে , সে কুয়াশার মধ্যে অদৃশ্য হয়ে গেল, আমি কি পুরো ঘটনা টা কল্পনা করেছি, ও কি সত্যি !  কিন্তু আমি যখন আমার হাঁটা চালিয়ে যাচ্ছিলাম, তখন আমি এই অনুভূতিটা ঝেড়ে ফেলতে পারিনি যে কিথ এখনও সেখানেই আছে, আমার উপর নজর রাখছে - এবং ভূত।"

আমি এখন কলকাতায় বসে যখন সেই রাত্তিরে কথা  ভাবি তখন ভাবি যেন আমার জন্য ঐ সময়ের ঐ ঘটনা কোন নাট্যকার শুধু আমার জন্য সাজিয়ে ছিল, কভিডের পর আর দার্জিলিং যাওয়া হয় নি,কোনো আসা যায় না কারণ সেই দিনের সেই মুহূর্ত তো পাবো না !

Dead man walking

In the bustling city of Delhi, amidst the chaos of daily life, my wife and I found solace in our evening walks at the DDA Sports Complex in Pashchim Vihar. It was a routine we cherished, a time to unwind and observe the world around us. Yet, one seemingly ordinary evening, our routine took a surreal turn.

As we strolled along the track, I couldn't help but notice a peculiar figure among the regular evening walkers. Sporting a French beard, dark glasses, and a suspiciously full head of hair for his age, this gentleman stood out like a sore thumb. But it wasn't just his appearance that caught my attention—it was his behavior.

On one occasion, as he passed me on the track, I noticed a sudden change in his gait, as if he were trying to conceal something. Intrigued, I decided to investigate further. The following day, I arrived early and discreetly positioned myself on a nearby stone bench, keeping a watchful eye on the mysterious walker.

To my surprise, when he thought no one was watching, his limp miraculously disappeared, revealing a familiar stride that sent chills down my spine. It was then that I realized the uncanny resemblance to my late friend, Sarat Dutta. But how could this be? I had attended Sarat's funeral just two years prior, mourning his untimely demise from COVID.

Haunted by the possibility of encountering a ghost, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease. Night after night, I lay awake, grappling with the inexplicable reappearance of my deceased friend. But curiosity got the better of me, and the next day, I decided to confront the enigmatic figure head-on.
I confronted him by calling his name and he half turned but realising that he got caught started walking fast. But I was determined to unravel the mystery of reappearance after death so I walked fast  and confronted him.
He was annoyed and started speaking in Hindi, "Why are you chasing me?"
Hearing his Hindi I couldn't stop my laugh,"Well your bad Hindi has exposed you,Sarat!"
Somehow I got some idea about this mystery.
I told him," During COVID time there have been cases of wrong body taken by relatives as the bodies were handed over in completly wrapped condition so there was no scope of looking at the faces. The name tag with address were the only identification. Your case must be similar to that."
He looked guiltly at me and pulled me to a bench and told his story.
Sarat's story
.....
You know that I took VRS from IOC and started a business of maintenance of refineries. But as COVID came in 2020 my business failed,I had to take loan to pay salaries of my staff. The loan was piling up then I was down with COVID. I have only one son who invited you for my funeral and you know my wife died in 1998. I was put in the nearest government hospital. There I found many patients were coming who had no address.
Me and my son hatched a plan. I switched my alloted bed with a critical case patient without any address. That poor guy readily agreed. As he was on my bed so he became me. Because we were all COVID patients so the nurses would rarely come near us. After a few days that fellow died and my son got a ring from the hospital to take the body. He collected that body fully disinfected and wrapped like a Mummy. He with his friend went Kewratala to burn the body in electric furnace. Thus I died and you attended my funeral,we planned to perform it prominently by issuing newspaper notification. So my workers and loan shark came to know I was dead. We were staying in rented house and my son does a lowly paid job. There was no scope of his paying out the debts and wages to my workers. They too realised it was bad financial case. I ran away to Delhi,grew this French cut and put on this wig. No one suspected any thing but then you appeared from no where to Pashchim Vihar. I avoided CR Park ,South Delhi thinking that most of the Kolkata Bengalis have relatives staying  at those places.
Adopting a disguise, I vanished into anonymity, my French cut and wig serving as shields against prying eyes. But in a city teeming with memories and secrets, even the most meticulously crafted facades can unravel with the slightest misstep.

And so, as fate would have it, our paths crossed in a twist of serendipity, threatening to expose the carefully woven web of deception that shields me from the consequences of my past life. As I navigate the labyrinthine streets of Delhi, every shadow and every glance serves as a reminder of the precarious balance between truth and illusion.
While narrating his pitiful story he broke down. Passerby were looking curiously at us.
I understood his delicate position so promised not to divulge his whereabouts.

Caution :Friends because of secrecy I have used false identity,I had no friend named Sarat in Indian Oil.My encounr with him didn't take place in Pashchim Vihar,Delhi!

The Half-Life of Knowledge in Engineering: A Personal Reflection

The Half-Life of Knowledge in Engineering: A Personal Reflection

When I graduated from IIT Kharagpur in 1965 in Electrical Engineering, the landscape of engineering was vastly different from what it is today. The fundamental principles we learned, such as Ohm’s Law, Kirchhoff’s Law, and Fleming’s Thumb Rule, remain constants in the field. However, the applications and technologies built on these principles have undergone a sea change. Reflecting on this evolution, I realize that the half-life of our technical knowledge—the period after which half of what we have learned becomes obsolete—is a critical concept to grasp in our ever-advancing field.

During my college days, much of what we studied served to broaden our vision rather than prepare us for the specific technologies we would encounter in our careers. In the 1960s, materials science was in its nascent stage, and many of the high-strength, lightweight metals we take for granted today were still under development. The equipment we used—motors, switchgears, and generators—have since evolved dramatically, driven by innovations in materials and manufacturing processes.

The rapid pace of technological advancement, particularly with the advent of computers and artificial intelligence, means that the knowledge acquired by today’s engineering graduates will have a much shorter half-life than mine did. The only viable solution is continuous learning and knowledge upgrading. Alvin Toffler, in the 1960s, foresaw this acceleration, predicting that the time from concept to production would shrink dramatically in his best selling book "The future shock". His prediction has come true, with product development cycles now measured in months rather than years.

A striking example of this rapid obsolescence can be seen in the automotive industry. Australia, once a car manufacturing hub, ceased its car production when it couldn't compete with cheaper, more efficient Japanese models. I once met an Australian industrialist who manufactured windshields and rear-view mirrors. His business, once thriving, went bust under the onslaught of cheaper Chinese imports. This stark reality highlights the risks associated with setting up a manufacturing plant in today’s competitive global market. The danger of obsolescence is ever-present, as competitors can quickly emerge with cheaper or more efficient alternatives.

In my career, I have seen the transformative impact of these technological advancements firsthand. Working at the Barauni Refinery of Indian Oil, I witnessed the transition from an old Russian-built refinery to a new digital process. This change was so profound that it required a complete overhaul of the workforce, with older employees taking voluntary retirement and new, tech-savvy staff being brought in. It was a hard decision, but one that was necessary to keep up with the rapid pace of technological change.

At BHEL, I had to adopt a policy of continuous learning and adaptation. When my juniors came to me with problems, I encouraged them to propose at least two solutions. This approach not only fostered innovative thinking but also prepared us to handle the inevitable technological changes that lay ahead. 

Reflecting on my experiences, I see the importance of root cause analysis in navigating these changes. Tools like the fishbone diagram help us identify the underlying issues, enabling us to adapt and find solutions. However, even with these tools, the key takeaway is that in today’s world, staying static is not an option. Continuous learning and adaptability are crucial to staying relevant and competitive.

In conclusion, the half-life of knowledge in engineering is shortening, driven by rapid technological advancements. To navigate this ever-changing landscape, we must commit to lifelong learning and be prepared to adapt quickly. The story of Australia’s automotive industry and my own experiences underscore the challenges and opportunities that come with this fast-paced evolution. By embracing change and continuously upgrading our skills, we can stay ahead in this dynamic field.

Chaos juggled with humor wins

Subramanian had always been a curious man, and his curiosity often led him to the strangest of places. One day, he found himself climbing the hills beyond Rishikesh, seeking out sadhus who were known for their mystical powers. The hillside was dotted with holy men sitting under trees, each deep in meditation, looking like spiritual vendors displaying their wares to attract disciples.

Subramanian, however, wasn't interested in these regular sadhus. He had a very specific purpose in mind: he wanted to learn the art of bilocation—the ability to be in two places at once. This, he believed, would solve his most pressing problem back in Tamil Nadu: managing his two wives. He had read somewhere that Western saints could perform this trick, and he was determined to learn it.

As he ventured deeper into the jungle, the usual sadhus faded away, replaced by the sounds of nature. Finally, after hours of trekking, he stumbled upon a small clearing where an old sadhu sat cross-legged, his eyes closed, surrounded by an aura of tranquility.

"This must be the one," Subramanian thought, approaching with a mix of reverence and desperation.

The sadhu opened one eye, seemingly aware of Subramanian's presence. "What brings you here, my son?" he asked in a calm, deep voice.

"Great Sadhu, I seek the knowledge of bilocation," Subramanian replied earnestly. "I need it to manage my... complex domestic life."

The sadhu raised an eyebrow. "Bilocation? And why would you need such a skill?"

Subramanian explained his predicament: how he had ended up with two wives, each blissfully unaware of the other's existence, and how maintaining this delicate balance was becoming increasingly difficult.

The sadhu chuckled. "Ah, the things we men do for peace. Very well, I will teach you, but you must follow my instructions to the letter."

For the next few weeks, Subramanian trained under the sadhu's guidance. The exercises were bizarre: he had to meditate while balancing a coconut on his head, chant mantras while hopping on one foot, and even practice juggling with fire sticks. Despite the oddity of the tasks, Subramanian persevered, convinced that he was on the verge of mastering bilocation.

One day, the sadhu declared that Subramanian was ready. "Tonight, you will attempt bilocation," he said. "Find a quiet place, meditate deeply, and you will be in two places at once."

That night, Subramanian did as instructed. He found a secluded spot, sat down, and began his meditation. He felt a strange sensation, as if he was being stretched, and then—snap! He opened his eyes and found himself sitting in two places: one still in the jungle, and the other... in his home in Tamil Nadu, right between his two wives!

At first, Subramanian was thrilled. "It worked!" he thought. But his joy was short-lived. Both wives, startled by his sudden appearance, began questioning him simultaneously. He realized he could hear them both clearly, and worse, he had to answer both at the same time.

"Where have you been?" one asked.

"Why do you look so strange?" the other demanded.

As Subramanian tried to respond, he found that his words were jumbled, answering one wife's question with the other wife's answer. It was a comedy of errors. The more he tried to explain, the more entangled his lies became.

Finally, in a fit of panic, he tried to undo the bilocation, but he couldn't remember how. The sadhu hadn't taught him the return technique!

Back in the jungle, the sadhu was watching through his mystical powers and chuckling to himself. "Ah, the lessons we learn the hard way," he mused.

Subramanian spent the next few hours running between rooms, trying to keep up with both wives, who were now more suspicious than ever. Exhausted and desperate, he finally collapsed, wishing he had never sought out bilocation in the first place.

The next morning, Subramanian returned to the jungle, his face a mixture of fatigue and resignation. "Great Sadhu, I need your help. This bilocation is more trouble than it's worth."

The sadhu laughed heartily. "The secret to peace, my son, is not being in two places at once but being present where you are needed the most. Now, let me teach you the art of graceful escape."

And so, Subramanian learned the most valuable lesson of all: sometimes, the best magic is simply learning how to manage the chaos of life with a sense of humor and a lot of patience.

"From Soviet Blueprints to Modern India: Personal Reflections on Russian Expertise, Friendship, and Unseen Ties

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I always considered Russians as better partners for us compared to Americans. In the initial stages, all our heavy industries like refining, steel, mining, fertilizer, and heavy machinery PSUs like BHEL and Hindustan Antibiotics,discovering oil in Anklewar and Kallol of ONGC in Gujarat were done with Russian collaboration and financial support. Even IIT Bombay was funded by the Russians. My encounters with Russians began during my Barauni Refinery days. Both the Barauni and Baroda refineries were built with Russian collaboration. They freely shared their technology, complete with detailed calculations. Whenever we faced a technical issue at Barauni, I would head to the technical service library and pull out the original calculations and blueprints. This access to Russian technical documentation allowed me to learn a great deal that wasn't covered during my time at IIT Kharagpur, which was built under the Colombo Plan.

My next significant contact with the Russians was at Vizag Steel in 1989. The blast furnace and raw material handling systems there were based on Russian technology. Russia was still unified then, but I left Vizag for my next posting at Farakka Super Thermal Power Station in December 1991, just as the Soviet Union was disintegrating into multiple smaller countries.

During my Bhopal days starting in 2000, I once again engaged with Russia and Ukraine. We collaborated with the hydro lab Kharkhob in Ukraine to design a runner, enabling us to compete against Alstom,Voith etc and win the contract of Kameng Hydro in Arunachal . I met Alexendrov during this time, a highly skilled technocrat with seven patents to his name. He played a crucial role in bringing mechanical designers for our transformers. When I visited Russia and Ukraine in 2003 for meetings with LMZ, Alexendrov acted as our interpreter and guide. Tragically, I recently learned that he is no more. We found that the world renowned Technological set up LMZ was owned by a Russian oligarch,an arrogant character like Putin.

Why am I writing this? Because in the last two years, I've read two books focused on Russia that paint a dismal picture of the condition of Russian intellectuals: "Second Hand Time" by Nobel-winning author Svetlana Alexievich and "A Gentleman in Moscow" by Amor Towles. Reading these books made me feel sad. I witnessed a man like Alexendrov, with his high caliber having 7/8 patents acting as our guide and interpreter. In India, he would have been revered. We used to pay him $100 a day, covering his fare, boarding, and lodging. In contrast, an American or German expert in 2003 would have cost us at least $500 a day. Today, an Indian expert costs a minimum of Rs 50,000 a day.

Indian business fraternity has taken advantage of the collapse of Russia by engaging Russian technicians and engineers in new steel plants established by companies like Mittals, Jindals and Ruias. I've seen numerous skilled Russian engineers contributing to these projects at a fraction of the cost we would have paid for Western experts. This access to affordable expertise has significantly aided India's industrial growth, proving yet again the long-standing value of our partnership with Russia.

This trend is not limited to industrial sectors alone. Private airlines in India have also employed many Russian pilots. These pilots, often with extensive experience and high levels of training, were available at a cost significantly lower than their Western counterparts. Their presence has helped maintain high standards of aviation safety and service while keeping operational costs manageable.

Additionally, I have seen groups of Russians coming to India to purchase ready-made garments in bulk, while we were staying in Karol Bagh ,Delhi I have seen hoards of Russians staying in seedy cheap hotels in Pahargaunj.They would purchase cheap readymade garments to be sold in Russia. These groups often include former doctors, engineers, and other professionals who now engage in trade to support their families. They buy garments in India and sell them back in Moscow, leveraging the cost advantages and quality of Indian textiles. During my visit to Russia I was about to buy some garments then our guide warned laughingly that those were all from India.

These examples illustrate the broad spectrum of Russian expertise that India has harnessed over the years, contributing to various sectors of our economy. While it is beneficial for us, it is equally a poignant reminder of the challenging circumstances faced by many skilled Russians who have had to adapt to new roles far from their original professions.

In "Second Hand Time" by Svetlana Alexievich, the Nobel-winning author presents a haunting portrayal of post-Soviet Russia through the voices of ordinary people. The book is a collection of interviews that reveal the disillusionment, nostalgia, and hardships experienced by those who lived through the transition from communism to capitalism. Alexievich captures the emotional and psychological toll on Russian society, painting a picture of a nation struggling to redefine its identity amidst economic and social upheaval.

"A Gentleman in Moscow" by Amor Towles offers a fictional yet equally compelling view of Russian history. The novel follows Count Alexander Rostov, an aristocrat sentenced to house arrest in a grand hotel across the street from the Kremlin in the wake of the Bolshevik Revolution. Through his eyes, we witness the dramatic changes in Russia over several decades. Despite the constraints of his confinement, Rostov maintains his dignity and wit, forging deep connections with the hotel's staff and guests. Towles' narrative beautifully captures the resilience and adaptability of the human spirit in the face of monumental societal changes.

Reading these books made me reflect on the fate of Russian intellectuals and professionals like Alexendrov, who, despite their immense talent and knowledge, found themselves in diminished roles due to the socio-economic turmoil in their country. These personal stories and historical narratives underscore the profound impact of geopolitical shifts on individual lives and the enduring connections between our nations.

During my IIT days, I was an avid reader of spy thrillers where Soviet Russia was often depicted as the villain. I was particularly fond of James Bond novels; in "From Russia with Love," SMERSH, the anti-espionage wing of the USSR, was the villain group. Those days, the Cold War between the US and USSR had divided the world into two blocs—those aligned with the US, those aligned with the USSR, and those who remained neutral, known as the third world. However, I wasn't personally influenced by these books as I didn't analyze them deeply. My project guide was Prof Zerikhin ,a Russian but our discussions never ventured beyond the subject matter. This personal connection, however brief, reinforced my belief in the value of Russian expertise and the enduring professional ties we have built over the years.

Climbing the Stairway to Heaven: Journeying to Inner Peace and the Mystical Realms of the Mind

When I met Joshi, he was a changed man. The spark in his eyes was different, calmer, as if he had found an inner peace that eluded many of us. He shared his journey with me, a path that led him back to his roots in Uttarakhand. There, he met a sadhu who transformed his life. Intrigued, I pressed for details. "What did he do, or rather, what did you ask?" I inquired, eager to uncover the secret. Joshi smiled, a serene expression softening his features. "I wanted peace and control over my forgetfulness," he began. "So, what did the sadhu do?" I prodded gently. "He taught me self-hypnotism," Joshi replied. "I spent a month in his ashram, and it was no easy feat. To master self-hypnotism, I had to practice diligently. Creating a void in the mind is a real challenge when thoughts are racing incessantly. He advised me to lie down in a secluded place, close my eyes, and focus my mind on one subject to evacuate the clutter. I chose to imagine climbing a stairway to heaven." As he recounted his experience, I could almost picture Joshi lying under the canopy of ancient trees, the rustle of leaves and the distant hum of the Ganges serving as the backdrop to his mental journey. Each day, he would retreat to a secluded spot within the ashram, a place where the world seemed to pause. With eyes closed, he would take deep, measured breaths, feeling the cool earth beneath him and the warmth of the sun above. The sadhu's teachings were simple yet profound. "Imagine an endless stairway," he had instructed Joshi. "A stairway that ascends to the heavens. Focus on each step, feel the texture under your feet, the weight of your body shifting as you climb. Let everything else fade away." At first, Joshi's mind was a storm of thoughts, a chaotic dance of past memories, future anxieties, and present distractions. But with each session, he grew more adept at silencing the noise. The imaginary stairway became his anchor, each step a journey deeper into his own consciousness. Weeks passed, and Joshi's determination bore fruit. One day, as he climbed his mental stairway, he felt a profound stillness. The incessant chatter in his mind dulled to a whisper and then ceased altogether. He had reached the void the sadhu spoke of – a place of pure potential, where the mind could rest and rejuvenate. "I got hypnotized," Joshi continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "In that state, I found an incredible sense of calm. I could dig out information from my memory, details that were otherwise lost in the chaos. It even allowed me to embark on imaginary journeys based on books I was reading." He paused, his eyes twinkling with excitement. "One of the most extraordinary experiences was when I read 'Lost Horizon' by James Hilton. I was so captivated by the idea of Shangri-La that I decided to use it as my focus during self-hypnosis. In my mind, I traveled to that mystical valley, met the monks, and experienced the tranquility and wisdom of Shangri-La as if I were truly there." His vivid description transported me to that serene, fictional paradise. Joshi spoke of walking through the lush, verdant valleys, engaging in deep conversations with the wise monks, and feeling the profound peace of Shangri-La envelop him. The practice not only helped him manage stress but also opened new worlds of imagination and memory retrieval, enriching his life in ways he had never thought possible. His transformation was nothing short of miraculous, a testament to the power of the mind and the ancient wisdom of the sadhu. As I listened to Joshi, I couldn't help but feel a spark of curiosity and hope. If he could find such profound change, perhaps I could too. Inspired, I decided to give it a try, to seek out my own stairway to heaven and explore the depths of my consciousness. Thus began my journey, guided by Joshi's story, towards inner peace and mastery over my mind. The path was daunting, but with each step, I grew more confident, more attuned to the silent strength within. And in that silence, I discovered a world of possibilities, waiting to be explored.

### The Sweet Rewards of Higher Aspirations: Lessons from Nature and Life

Beyond the Low-Hanging Fruit: Striving for Higher Goals

During my tenure in Bhopal, I had the privilege of staying in an official bungalow that boasted a large courtyard filled with fruit-bearing trees—mango, guava, and jackfruit. During guava season, I noticed an interesting phenomenon. The guavas within easy reach were not particularly sweet, while the birds seemed to enjoy the guavas perched high up on the branches. Curious, I had those higher guavas plucked and found them to be much sweeter than the lower ones. It struck me that the guavas at higher branches were getting more sun and air compared to the ones on the inner or lower branches.

This observation led me to a broader reflection on life and effort. While low-hanging fruit, representing minimal effort, can yield quick results and keep us motivated, the true rewards often lie higher up, requiring more effort and perseverance. This principle is not only evident in nature but also in various facets of life, including professional achievements, personal growth, and societal progress. Here, I illustrate this premise with examples from the Indian context.

 Education and Career Advancement

In India, education has long been seen as the gateway to better opportunities. For many, the initial goal is to secure a basic education, akin to plucking low-hanging fruit. However, the competitive landscape demands higher aspirations. Take the example of Sundar Pichai, CEO of Alphabet Inc. and its subsidiary Google. Pichai's journey from a modest upbringing in Chennai to the helm of one of the world's leading tech companies exemplifies the pursuit of higher branches. His determination to pursue engineering at IIT Kharagpur, followed by advanced studies at Stanford University and the Wharton School, required significant effort and perseverance but ultimately led to unparalleled success.

Entrepreneurship and Innovation

The Indian startup ecosystem offers another vivid example. While establishing a small business can provide immediate returns and satisfaction, the most impactful innovations often require venturing beyond the obvious. For instance, Flipkart, founded by Sachin and Binny Bansal, started as an online bookstore. The initial success was the low-hanging fruit, but their ambition to transform Flipkart into a comprehensive e-commerce platform akin to Amazon required navigating complex logistics, technology challenges, and fierce competition. Today, Flipkart is a leading e-commerce giant in India, thanks to their willingness to reach higher.

Social and Environmental Initiatives

In the realm of social and environmental progress, the story of Dr. Arunachalam Muruganantham is particularly inspiring. Known as the "Pad Man," he revolutionized menstrual hygiene in rural India by developing affordable sanitary pads. Initially, it would have been easier to accept the status quo or make minor improvements, akin to picking low-hanging fruit. Instead, Muruganantham aimed higher, conducting extensive research, developing a low-cost machine, and fighting societal taboos to empower women across India. His efforts have had a profound impact on health and gender equality.

Conclusion

The lessons from my courtyard in Bhopal underscore a universal truth: while low-hanging fruit offers immediate gratification, true fulfillment and significant achievements lie in reaching higher. Whether in education, career, entrepreneurship, or social change, the effort to aim higher and persevere yields sweeter rewards. In the Indian context, this principle is exemplified by individuals and initiatives that have transformed challenges into opportunities, pushing beyond the obvious to achieve greatness. As we navigate our own paths, let us be inspired to look beyond the immediate and strive for the higher branches, where the ripest and sweetest fruits await.

The Strategic Edge: Harnessing the Power of Alternative Solutions in Management

In the ever-evolving landscape of modern management, the need for alternative solutions has never been more critical. The old adage, "necessity is the mother of invention," holds true as organizations and individuals alike strive to navigate challenges with creativity and resilience. This mindset fosters innovation and ensures preparedness, embodied in the often-repeated mantra of having a "Plan B."

#### The Power of Alternative Solutions

An alternative solution, even if seemingly wild or initially cost-ineffective, demonstrates proactive thinking and resourcefulness. It signifies that a team has anticipated potential hurdles and is prepared to address them. This foresight can be the difference between seamless continuity and disruptive setbacks.

During my school days, walking served as a simple yet effective alternative to relying on the state bus. This early lesson in adaptability has profound implications in today’s corporate world. Consider the transformation of work environments: the COVID-19 pandemic highlighted the necessity of remote work. When traveling to the office became impractical, work from home emerged as a viable alternative, showcasing the agility of businesses to maintain operations amidst unprecedented disruptions.

#### Modern Examples of Alternative Solutions

1. **Remote Work:**

   Remote work, once a privilege or a rarity, has become a cornerstone of modern business continuity planning. Companies that had the infrastructure and policies in place for remote work found themselves better equipped to handle the sudden shift brought on by the pandemic. This alternative solution not only ensured business continuity but also reshaped the future of work, emphasizing flexibility and employee well-being.

2. **App-Driven Cab Hiring:**

   In urban environments, personal conveyance often leads to challenges such as parking difficulties and the stress of navigating crowded streets. Young professionals have increasingly turned to app-driven cab services like Uber and Lyft. This alternative eliminates the hassles associated with car ownership, offering a convenient, stress-free solution that underscores the shift towards a sharing economy.

3. **Technological Adaptation:**

   In the industrial sector, technological advancements often necessitate significant shifts. Organizations must identify knowledge gaps and adapt accordingly. My experience at the Barauni Refinery exemplifies this. The transition from an old Russian-built refinery to a new, digitally controlled process required new skill sets. Indian Oil’s approach of offering voluntary retirement and recruiting new staff with relevant expertise ensured a smooth technological transition.

#### Planning for Alternatives in Management

Management honchos emphasize the importance of Plan B for a reason. It is not just about having a backup; it’s about cultivating a culture of preparedness and resilience. Here are key strategies for integrating alternative solutions into management practices:

1. **Scenario Planning:**

   Regularly engage in scenario planning to anticipate potential disruptions. Identify critical areas where alternatives might be needed and develop comprehensive plans to address them.

2. **Encourage Innovation:**

   Foster a culture that encourages innovative thinking and problem-solving. Employees should feel empowered to propose unconventional solutions without fear of failure. During my tenure at BHEL, I followed a policy for my juniors: "When you are coming to me with a problem, then come with two solutions." This approach not only encouraged them to think critically but also prepared them to handle challenges independently.

3. **Continuous Learning:**

   Invest in continuous learning and development programs. Equip your team with the skills and knowledge needed to adapt to new technologies and methodologies.

4. **Flexibility and Adaptability:**

   Build flexibility into your operational processes. Whether it’s through flexible work arrangements, scalable technology infrastructure, or versatile supply chains, ensure your organization can pivot when needed.

5. **Feedback Loops:**

   Establish feedback loops to regularly assess the effectiveness of alternative solutions. Learn from experiences and refine your strategies to enhance future preparedness.

#### Conclusion

In conclusion, the necessity of alternative solutions in management cannot be overstated. Whether it’s walking as a backup to the state bus, working from home during a pandemic, or using app-driven cabs to avoid urban congestion, the ability to pivot and adapt is crucial. By embracing the philosophy that necessity drives invention, managers can foster a proactive, resilient, and innovative organizational culture. This approach not only ensures continuity in the face of adversity but also drives long-term success and sustainability.

ভাল থাকা

যথারীতি ছাতা হাতে সকালে লেকে হাঁটার জন্য বেরিয়ে পড়লাম l রাত্তির 2 থেকে বৃষ্টি হচ্ছে l লেক প্রায় ফাঁকা, আমারো বিছনা ছাড়তে ইচ্ছে হচ্ছিল না,বেশ ঝাঁপিয়ে বৃষ্টি হচ্ছিল!
আমাদের বয়সে অভ্যাস টা নিয়ম মত চালিয়ে যেতে হয় l
ঐ যে ওঠার পর ফ্রেশ হয়ে নিয়ে একটু ফ্রি হ্যান্ড এক্সারসাইজ করা,তার পর চা বিস্কুট, কিছু ড্রাই ফ্রুট ব্যাস হাঁটার জন্য তৈরি l
লিফট অপারেটর প্রাণেশ হেঁসে বললো কি স্যার বৃষ্টি তেও ছাতার দিকে ইশারা করে l আমি মাথা নাড়লাম, ছেলেটা ভালো,ও জানে আমি কখন বের হই তখন লিফট থামিয়ে বেরিয়ে আমার জন্য অপেক্ষা করে অবশ্য কোনো কল না থাকলে!
আমদের বয়সে কেউ যখন চেনে তখন ভালই লাগে, retirement এর পরে লোকে আস্তে আস্তে ভুলতে বসে l আমরা যারা হাউজিং সোসাইটি থাকি তাদের একে অন্যর সংগে লিফটে তো দেখা হয়ে যাইই, তার পর ঘাড় নেড়ে বলা "ভাল" l কিন্তু যারা নিজের বাড়ি তে থাকে তাদের অবশ্য পাসের বাড়ীর সংগে আলাপ কিম্বা কাজের মাসির সংগে কথা বলা l সেদিন WhatsApp এ মেসেজ পেলাম যে যাদের বয়েস হচ্ছে তাদের বেশি করে কথা বলা l কথা না বললে আস্তে আস্তে আলজেইমার রোগ ধরবে lআমার বউ তো বলে আমি বেশি কথা বলি l শুনেছি আমাদের এক আন্তিও যে বেস বড় পোস্ট থেকে retire করার পর পয়সা দিয়ে বাচ্চা ছেলেদের ডেকে গালা গাল দিত, যতদুর মনে হয় তিনি ডিস্ট্রিক্ট ম্যাজিস্ট্রেট ছিলেন ইউপি তে, এলাহাবাদে থাকতেন! ঐ গালা গাল দেওয়া অভ্যাস ছিল, চোর ছেচড় কে নিয়ে ডিল করতে করতে গালা গাল দেওয়া অভ্যাস হয়ে গেছিল !
আমার অবশ্য ঐ রকম কোনো ইস্যু নেই হ্যাঁ এই একটু আড্ডা হলে মন্দ হয় না l
আমায় দেখে কেউ হাঁসলে অমি ও হেঁসে হাত তুলে বলি "ভাল তো"! অচেনা তো কি হয়েছে,এই তো সেদিন DKS ক্লাব বউয়ের সংগে বিকেলে চা আর চিকেন কাটলেট খেতে গিয়ে ছিলাম l কিছু দূর প্রায় আমার বয়সী একজন রোল খাচ্ছিল আর আমার দিকে তাকাচ্ছিল, কোথায় দেখেছি টাইপ, প্রায়ই হয় এরকম l
বিল সাইন করে উঠলাম যাবার সময় ওনাকে বললাম ভাল, হেঁসে বললেন হাঁ,আলাপ করলাম নিজের নাম বলে l ওনার নাম কুন্তল, বউ জিগেশ করলো চেনো ওনাকে, নাতো,এখন আর চেনার দরকার পড়ে না l হেঁসে কথা বলাই একটা বড় পাসপোর্ট l
যা বল ছিলাম বৃষ্টি তে লেকে হাঁটতে হাঁটতে এক marwari ভদ্রলোক আমাকে ছাতা নিয়ে হাঁটতে দেখে মাথা নাড়ল আমিও হেঁসে হাত নাড়লাম l ভাল লাগল যে দূর থেকে আরেক জনের সঙ্গে  আলাপ হল!
এগুলো কে ইংরেজি তে বলে নোড্ডিং একুইন্টেন্স l
কিশোরের হিন্দি গান মনে পড়ে গেলো প্যার কিয়ে যা!
ভাগ্য ভাল যে আমদের চার দিকে এত লোক কথা বলার জন্য, শুধু একটু সহানুভূতি দরকার l
শেষ করি, বৃষ্টি এখনও পোড়ছে আর খিচুড়ির গন্ধ রান্না ঘর থেকে ভেসে আসছে!

S N Roy

S. N. Roy, born in Allahabad and raised in Delhi, distinguished himself early on with a strong academic foundation. In 1960, he completed his higher secondary education with distinction in Chemistry, Physics, and Maths. His academic prowess led him to IIT Kharagpur, where he graduated with Honors in Electrical Engineering in 1965.

Roy's professional journey began with a competitive entry into the Indian Oil Corporation Refineries division, where he started as an engineer trainee at the Gauhati refinery. After completing his training, he moved to Barauni Refinery in 1967, quickly advancing to the level of senior engineer. During his tenure at Barauni, he gained extensive experience in electrical maintenance and managing a captive power plant. Roy also represented the refinery in football, eventually captaining the team, and became the badminton champion of Barauni for seven consecutive years before taking voluntary retirement from both sports due to his workload at the refinery. Despite this, he continued to play badminton throughout his BHEL tenure and later picked up tennis in Bhopal, which he continues to play.

In 1978, Roy made a significant career shift to BHEL. Over the next two decades, he played a crucial role in commissioning several major thermal power stations, including those at Panipat, Singrauli, and Wanakbori. His expertise also led him to oversee the completion of the captive power station of Vizag Steel Plant. He further demonstrated his leadership by completing the Farakka Thermal Plant of 2x500 MW for NTPC.

Roy's career continued to flourish as he took on the role of General Manager in Kolkata in 1994. From 1996 to 2000, he served as the Regional Head of BHEL, Power Sector Eastern Region, where he handled the erection and commissioning of thermal, hydro, and gas power stations. His strategic vision and management skills culminated in his appointment as Executive Director of BHEL, Bhopal, from 2000 to 2003.

Upon retiring in 2003, Roy did not slow down. He took on the role of Independent Director at WPIL and Techno Electric Engineering Co., where he managed a wind power station of 200 MW, featuring the highest capacity wind turbine generator of 2.1 MW from Suzlon. He is also a Fellow of the Institute of Engineers, a prestigious recognition of his expertise and contributions to the field.

Roy's expertise in management extended beyond his professional roles. He shared his insights through various management articles, such as:

1. **The Power of Lateral Thinking in Problem Solving**: This article explores the importance and application of lateral thinking in management. It includes examples of how unconventional approaches can lead to innovative solutions in various scenarios.

2. **The Importance of Alternative Solutions**: Discussing the necessity of having a plan B, this article emphasizes that alternative solutions are crucial in ensuring continuity and overcoming unforeseen challenges. It includes anecdotes from his own experiences, such as walking as an alternative to using the state bus during his school days and the modern preference for app-driven cab services.

3. **Leadership Lessons from Technological Transitions**: This article covers his observations and experiences during technological transitions in organizations. It includes his visit to Barauni Refinery, where he witnessed the shift from old Russian-built technology to new digital controls, and the importance of identifying knowledge gaps and making tough decisions.

4. **Tactful Refusal in Management**: This piece highlights the art of saying no without jeopardizing professional relationships or responsibilities. It includes his experience with Mr. Rangarajan at BHEL, where he tactfully refused a task that was beyond his department's resources.

5. **Motivation through Effort and Achievement**: Drawing from his observation of fruit-bearing trees in his Bhopal bungalow's courtyard, this article uses the metaphor of low-hanging and high-hanging fruit to discuss motivation and the importance of setting higher goals for long-term success.

Beyond his professional achievements, Roy has a rich personal life filled with creative pursuits. His hobbies include sketching, watercolor painting, writing short stories and management articles, and playing golf to maintain physical fitness. He married in 1972 and has a son who is settled in Australia.

Roy is actively involved with Bhalopahar, an organization dedicated to the education and welfare of underprivileged children, providing them with opportunities for a better future. He organizes funds to help run the establishment.

Roy has also made significant contributions to literature, having published a management book in both English and Hindi, along with three books of short stories in Hindi and one in English. His writing reflects his deep understanding of both technical and human aspects of management and life.

S. N. Roy is known for his friendly and easily accessible character. He is known for helping the poor and readily contributes to charity, reflecting his commitment to social welfare.

Roy's life story is a testament to his dedication, expertise, and passion in both his professional career and personal interests, making him a remarkable figure in his field and beyond.

"Second Chances: A Tale of Loss, Love, and Rebirth"

Srivastava often comes to my flat in Delhi. The other day, he came with a strange story about his friend Garg. Garg was sitting in his drawing room in Dehradun when a man arrived with a 10-year-old boy, claiming the boy was from an orphanage but kept mentioning Garg. The boy said he was his son Avi. However, Garg’s only son, Avi, had died in a landslide during a trek in the hills, while his wife, Swati, who didn't go on the trek, survived. Govind, the boy, looked at Garg and said, "Papa, it's me, Avi!" Then he suddenly climbed the stairs and went to Avi's bedroom. Garg was stunned. Swati had since remarried.

The story told by Srivastava about Garg

......

Garg sat in his Dehradun home, contemplating the strange turn of events. The mountains loomed in the distance, a constant reminder of the tragic day he lost Avi. The memory of the landslide was vivid, the grief still raw. Swati had remarried and moved on, but Garg was trapped in a web of memories and sorrow. The arrival of Govind had thrown his life into turmoil, reopening wounds he thought had started to heal.

Govind, with his innocent face and earnest eyes, was a constant enigma. Every day, the boy unveiled more details about Avi's life—details no outsider could possibly know. Garg was both fascinated and terrified by the possibility that this boy might indeed be the reincarnation of his son.

"Papa, remember how you used to take me to the river for fishing?" Govind asked one evening.

Garg's heart skipped a beat. Avi had loved those fishing trips. They were a sacred ritual, a father-son bond forged in the quiet stillness of nature. "Yes, Avi, I remember," Garg replied, his voice choked with emotion.

As days turned into weeks, Govind seamlessly integrated into Garg's life. The house, once echoing with silence, now resonated with laughter and warmth. Ramu, the faithful servant, watched with a mix of wonder and skepticism.

One night, Garg decided to test Govind. He asked him about a secret spot in the hills, a place only he and Avi knew. Without hesitation, Govind described the location in precise detail, even recalling the inscription they had carved into a rock: "Avi and Papa, forever."

The final piece of the puzzle fell into place. Garg's doubts began to melt away, replaced by a cautious hope. He decided to embrace this second chance, but with vigilance.

One afternoon, while going through Avi's old drawings, Govind found a sketch of a mountain range. "This was the last one I made before... before the accident," he said softly. Garg felt a pang of sorrow but also a flicker of acceptance. This boy, Govind, had somehow bridged the gap between past and present, allowing him to feel Avi's presence once more.

However, the mystery of the man who brought Govind still lingered. Garg hired a private investigator to uncover the truth. The investigation revealed that the man was indeed a con artist, but Govind had no ties to him. He had been abandoned at the orphanage and seemed to have genuinely remembered his past life.

Relieved, Garg decided to adopt Govind legally. He took him to the hill where Avi had died and performed a small ceremony, seeking closure for both their sakes. They scattered flowers and whispered prayers, the wind carrying their words to the heavens.

As the years passed, Govind thrived under Garg's care. The boy's uncanny memories of his past life began to fade, replaced by new experiences and a future filled with promise. Garg found solace in the fact that while Avi was gone, he had been given the gift of a new son—a second chance to love and be loved.

In the end, Garg realized that life's mysteries often defy explanation. He chose to embrace the present, cherishing the moments he had with Govind. Together, they healed, finding joy and purpose in the simple act of living.

The mountains stood as silent witnesses to their journey, timeless and unyielding, much like the enduring bond between a father and his son.

The Modern Success Story of the Old Parable: The Race Between the Rabbit and the Tortoise

## The Modern Success Story of the Old Parable: The Race Between the Rabbit and the Tortoise

The classic parable of the race between the rabbit and the tortoise is a timeless tale that emphasizes the virtues of persistence and steady progress over flashy but unsustainable speed. In today's fast-paced business world, this story finds modern resonance in the trajectories of various companies across industries. Let’s explore how this ancient wisdom is reflected in contemporary success stories, specifically focusing on the airline industry, and draw parallels with other sectors.

### The Race Between Kingfisher and IndiGo

In the Indian airline industry, Kingfisher Airlines and IndiGo embody the roles of the rabbit and the tortoise, respectively. Kingfisher Airlines, founded in 2005, entered the market with a bang. Known for its luxurious services, including in-flight entertainment and fine dining, Kingfisher quickly became the darling of the industry. Its aggressive expansion plans and flamboyant branding captured the imagination of the public and media alike. However, this rapid growth and lavish spending led to severe financial troubles. By 2012, Kingfisher Airlines had ceased operations, leaving behind a trail of unpaid debts and stranded passengers.

In stark contrast, IndiGo, founded in 2006, took a more measured approach. Focusing on operational efficiency, cost-effectiveness, and consistent service, IndiGo steadily expanded its fleet and routes. Without the glamour and glitz of its competitor, IndiGo prioritized punctuality, affordability, and customer satisfaction. This strategy paid off. Today, IndiGo is India’s largest airline by market share, known for its reliability and strong financial health.

**Moral of the Story:**

Slow and steady wins the race. IndiGo’s focus on sustainability, efficiency, and customer satisfaction ultimately ensured its dominance, while Kingfisher’s rapid but unsustainable growth led to its downfall.

### Other Parables in Modern Business

The lesson of the tortoise and the rabbit can be seen in other sectors as well. Here are a few notable examples:

#### TCS vs. Satyam in the IT Industry

Tata Consultancy Services (TCS) and Satyam Computers started their journey in the Indian IT sector with different approaches. Satyam, the rabbit in this story, grew rapidly and was initially seen as a leader in innovation and growth. However, its downfall came with the 2009 accounting scandal, leading to its acquisition by Tech Mahindra.

TCS, the tortoise, focused on building robust processes, talent development, and long-term client relationships. This steady and sustainable approach has made TCS one of the largest and most successful IT companies globally.

**Moral of the Story:**

Long-term thinking and sustainable practices ensure lasting success, as demonstrated by TCS’s consistent growth and stability.

#### HDFC Bank vs. Yes Bank in the Banking Sector

In the Indian banking sector, HDFC Bank and Yes Bank illustrate the same parable. Yes Bank, with its aggressive growth strategy and high-risk lending, rose quickly but faced a severe crisis due to poor asset quality and governance issues, leading to a government bailout in 2020.

HDFC Bank, on the other hand, has consistently focused on conservative lending practices, strong governance, and customer satisfaction. This steady and prudent approach has made HDFC Bank one of the most reliable and profitable banks in India.

**Moral of the Story:**

Prudent risk management and consistent focus on core values are key to long-term success, as HDFC Bank has shown.

#### Google vs. Yahoo! in Search Engine Technology

In the early days of the internet, Yahoo! was the dominant player in the search engine market, akin to the rabbit. However, its unfocused strategy and failure to innovate led to its decline.

Google, the tortoise, focused on developing superior search algorithms and gradually expanded its services while maintaining a user-centric approach. Today, Google is not just a search engine but a technology giant with diverse offerings.

**Moral of the Story:**

Focused innovation and a user-centric approach can lead to sustained success, as evidenced by Google’s rise to dominance.

### Conclusion

The modern business world offers numerous examples that reaffirm the age-old wisdom of the tortoise and the rabbit parable. Whether it's IndiGo in the airline industry, TCS in the IT sector, HDFC Bank in banking, or Google in search technology, the underlying message remains the same: steady, sustainable growth, and a focus on long-term goals often lead to enduring success, while flashy but unsustainable growth can result in failure. The moral of the story continues to resonate, proving that in the race for success, slow and steady often wins the race.

In the Café of Rick: A Personal Reverie Inspired by "Casablanca"

**In the Café of Rick: A Personal Reverie Inspired by "Casablanca"**

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Of all the places, she had to come to my café in Casablanca. Rick Blaine's timeless words echo in my mind, resonating with moments in my life when, at the least expected times, I have encountered people who left a profound impact on me. One such unforgettable moment was meeting my late boss, Mr. Lahiri, at the popular Makaibari tea joint in Darjeeling. It was an experience to remember, filled with unexpected joy and nostalgia, unlike Rick, who was trying to avoid Ingrid Bergman.

My all-time favorite movie, "Casablanca," starring Humphrey Bogart, has etched its place in my heart. The film's iconic scenes, unforgettable dialogues, and profound emotions often transport me into its world. So many times, I have imagined myself in Casablanca, sitting in Rick's café, enveloped by the smoky ambiance, the tinkling of glasses, and Sam's soulful piano playing "As Time Goes By."

In my daydreams, I am Rick, running a café that serves as a refuge for lost souls, a place where stories intertwine, and destinies are shaped. The café is alive with the chatter of diverse patrons, each carrying their own stories of love, loss, and hope. It's a place where time seems to stand still, and the past and present converge in a delicate dance.

Just like Rick, I often find myself at the crossroads of emotions, navigating through the complexities of human relationships. The chance encounters, the fleeting moments of connection, and the bittersweet memories all find a place in the tapestry of my life. Mr. Lahiri's unexpected presence at the tea joint was one such moment. Our conversation over steaming cups of tea was not just about work but about life, dreams, and the paths we chose. It reminded me of the scene where Rick and Ilsa reminisce about their time in Paris, a city of lost hopes and unforgettable memories.

"Casablanca" teaches me about the power of sacrifice, the strength of character, and the resilience of the human spirit. Rick's transformation from a cynical, disillusioned man to a selfless hero who puts love above personal gain is a journey I deeply resonate with. It inspires me to face my own challenges with courage and to embrace the unexpected twists and turns of life.

As I sip my coffee, I am transported once again to Rick's café. The clinking of glasses, the hushed conversations, and the haunting melody of "La Marseillaise" fill the air. In this timeless space, I find solace and inspiration. Rick's café is not just a place in a movie; it is a symbol of hope, resilience, and the enduring power of love.

In the end, "Casablanca" is more than just a film for me. It is a reminder that life, with all its unpredictability, has a way of bringing us to places and people that shape our journey. It is about finding beauty in the unexpected and embracing the moments that make us who we are. And like Rick, I will always have my own café in Casablanca, a place where memories linger, and dreams are born.