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My strands of American Childhood

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I was born and brought up in central Calcutta, schooled in central Calcutta, but then grew up to become the core Bengali who had an American childhood! W e Bengalis know the characteristics etched in someone from central Calcutta. Her strings are pulled from both ends. She owns the traits of the more settled in old North Calcutta while desirous for the contemporary South Kolkata (Eastern Kolkata wasn't so prominent then.) We still lived in our hundred-year-old rented homes with 20-inch deep walls and cut-glass floors. But, we went to the top schools in the city. We religiously fed the street dogs, cats, and cows but reluctantly swapped our indoor plants for lack of water. Though I have been a Central Calcuttan all my childhood, I was never pulled by either of these strings. I held on to an American fiber that tugged me on and off! My mom's best neighborhood pal was an American lady! Well, I know you could expect someone of British descent at that location and era

Gastronomical Gratitude

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...we need to go back to our grandparents, re-examine their lives as a whole and then try reconstructing our own on those very principles that pervaded theirs. B esides politics, these days the next issue which is being talked on, diligently discussed, argued about and fought over for finality, is food. Every day, you will come across articles, messages, videos, advertisements and whatnot, about the way you should deal with your gut. Be it something as understandable as managing your bowel movements or something as incomprehensible as the workings of the solar plexus, some information or the other is being served up perpetually. Then again, most of the knowledge that is gained is contradicted with a new set of ideas and guidance even before one has properly taken to it. Mind you, each time it is said to be supported by more advanced scientific research and even further delving into the Ayurveda and other systems of medicine. And so, what happens to a person like me? I am left ba

Durga’s Homecoming

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A new journey begins for a new Durga designated to vanquish the new Asura, more appropriately, Asuras. A fter a precious interim of ten months, my little Durga was coming home. The joy was immense as was my anticipated relief. Through all my years, I never missed the opportunity of being in the proximity of the unique festival, the Durga Puja. Its exuberance overwhelms me every year and I respond to it ecstatically. But that year, it didn't even seem that the celebrations were going on. It didn't depress me though, for once, as I lay in bed away from the festivities that fostered the Feminine Energy of existence. Such was her captivity. No lesser than the one Maa Durga exercises on her devotees, I pondered. I could feel her twisting and jabbing in my belly. Little could we wait to see each other. According to Hindu mythology, Durga is created by the Gods to slay the evil demon, Mahishasura. She was born with astounding beauty and power, empowered by the colle