To a woman I had often seen in her bath.

She visits her nudity everyday like a razor in a house of glass; I watch her slide a hand along her thigh, extinguish a mass of hiding bubbles, she lets the silk of still water warm her, her neck thrown back, her hair afloat. In this moisture she is of all things sweet and surfeitto desire. Solitary, she creates a realm where pleasure is primary. Degas once painted such a woman in preparation to bathe–a silver tub, a gold wood floor; there was no water yet, and she stood alone, still owned by needs to ready and prepare. In my mind, however, I have always lent her violets and the coming future, the settling of limbs, the way that heat would cling right to her bones, The chill of air over her hardening,unsubmerged nipples, and the reverie in her imagining a lover’s lips on them, for they are wet and pronounced, ready to be lathed by tongues as she lounges in the place where her fantasy is succulent. And the water serves to cradle her, the softest, most needless thing she’sever known, that embryonic place where she has gained relief without cost, and in it, revels, making love to her soul’s self. Of all things this may be a ritual Before service or suicide, A preface to her day or an endless night Where she may meet love's embrace Or deaths cold delight. But this is where she can calmly pronounce the wonders that make her a woman. For her beauty here remains coerced in lather No matter how much time strikes

Khamta Banerjee - The newly found feudal gourd

Dear Calcutta, 12 months ago sometimes around this time I remember feeling profoundly heartbroken and disillusioned at the choice of my fellow denizen electing Madame Monster and her band of muggers into the seat at the hallowed Writer’s building. I am a Leftist and ardently so. However I did disapprove of a lot of things that the so called Marxist Party had been upto for the last 34 years. But still I deeply revered the intellectual resources of the Budhha Babu brigade which was in no way comparable to the road side thugs, gay women and wannabe television stars amidst other delinquents which formed the (To Murder Calcutta) party. I am sure FBI and CIA will track this post in no time and alert you of its content. At least some movies and books claims these security and intel organisations are very effective when it comes to the anti US. Mrs. Clinton had recently visited Kolkata and it gives me great pride that she enjoyed her brief stay here. It’s a shame that politicians can’t stay long in one place or else the opposition will start commenting on how they are wasting public money. But do come again when you retire with your own money along with your family. The Victoria Memorial will still be here along with roadside tea stalls to welcome you. But I hope that you don't get to see our present Chief Minister whom you liked so much. I don't know whether she said nice things about her just for the sake of friendly relations but if they were from her heart then i doubt her understanding of people. It may also be that she is not aware of her recent bloopers which bought shame to me as a citizen of my state. Calcutta in recent times has come to illustrate the fable of the Raven in Peacock’s plume. We have been implanted with the desires of aping the west, well even as far as Bombay as its westwards. We want Malls, we want Pizza, we want Starbucks and all sundries that Bollywood depicts. Mehendi and dancing has become a ardent part of the Bengali weddings to give you an insight. I had once slapped a cousin sister of mine who wanted to wear “Lehenga Choli” for my wedding. Well I am not here to write a sojourn on Calcutta culture but just to give you an insight how the inherent values of Calcutta was replaced by the greed and gander that consumerism promises. So it was just a matter of time illusions of an eastern London was formed and capitalized on by Mme Monster to lure the blinded denizens into her cordon. CPI(M) was ousted and Calcutta happily ushered in the disease called TMC led by the lethal Mme Monster. Needless to say the numbers of those who grieved at this fatalistic move by Calcutta were few, but genuine. Here in Dubai bottles of Champagne were opened and men and women had dressed like transvestites and had gay sex to commemorate “Poriborton”. We were shunned and publicly humiliated for being Socialists. Some such enthusiasts even gave up on socializing with us lesser ones (A concept I understood much later, as a Theorem 1 of Monster Govt). My wife a fellow empathizer asked me to cheer up, and take up photography to keep my mind of this mayhem. And lo behold it was a matter of time that the can of worms were opened and out came Mme Monster and her brigade contaminating the state. The best was on Last Saturday, whence she called a college going kid as a Maoist – just for asking her the question about the conduct of 2 of her ministers. Here is as she quotes in a letter to the press – “I asked you something that had been on the minds of most people around me, people who voted for 'paribartan' (change). Is this what we expect of our leaders? The ones who set examples and whom people follow. This is all that I wanted to know. What I got to know, instead, is that in West Bengal, asking a question can be the equivalent of being a Maoist” What do we do with this political Jack the Ripper who believes that painting Calcutta Blue – “Yuck” would bring in the change that the people of Bengal had desperately sought. A lot of forums are calling her an idiot, a joker, a dim wit. But friends it has earned her the brand ambassadorship of PEPSI. Now if I sit back and think of the “Hillary visit and the Pepsi felicitation” would you still call me a crooked leftist mind, challenging all that is connected with Mme Monster. A year has been over that you warmed the CM chair with your insane ass and the people in Bengal who once came out in huge numbers to elect you, are already relenting this change. It’s a pity that the youth who campaigned for the TMC some 11 months back wants re-election so that they can vote for the CPI (M) led Left Front not because they are good but because they are the lesser evil or at least that is what they hope now. It seems life for them has not really left them with any other alternative rather than to hope against another political hope. So let’s try and look into some of the news that have making headlines lately and the entire hollowness behind what was once hailed as an historical change. I reiterate that I am biased and my information may not be available on the Star Anandos, ABP and the other so called “Legal” Media. To start with the mis -government of West Bengal has managed to rewrite the High School syllabus (why??? Was it an inspiration from Ray’s Hirak Rajar Deshe and the magoj dholai – brain drain concept) with a definite political motive which has seen most of the history chapters on the Russian Revolution and Marxism disappear. The attempt is a clear drive to brush off any possibility of the youth of Bengal taking interest in the ideas of Marxism. But what the rulers fail to appreciate is this insecurity within themselves and the crisis of capitalism that has made them rewrite history textbooks in a fruitless effort to wipe out an idea. What the stupid oaf doesn’t realize that banned items generate the maximum interest amongst youth (remember Satanic Verses and how it sold). Next came the imposition of severe punishments to holders of dissenting opinions and political opponents. A professor, an academician, whose only crime was to circulate a cartoon of the Chief Minister of Pashchim Banga (formerly West Bengal). I remember years back a similar cartoon was drawn of President Nixon from her ally country. The cartoon depicted Khamata Banerjee as a looter of public money in collaboration with her present Union Railway Minister – Mukul Roy. And as a result the professor was arrested under a provision of law which was never meant for it. Before he was put inside the bar, he was beaten up in broad daylight by some local TMC goons in the presence of local police officials, who were reduced to mere spectators in the whole drama. In fact her ignorance towards the issues faced by the ordinary working people on the ground has been a talking point for some time now. Khamata Banerjee went to the extent of blaming a rape victim for getting raped only to conspire against her government! WOW what was she on, LSD? How many women do we know would call up rapists and say “RAPE ME RAPE ME I GOTTA PROVE A POINT”. Now this is a brand new concept for films, Karan Johar are your listening? Many women’ organizations and activists across the country started rallying against her callousness. But till date the culprits have not been brought to books. In fact the brother of the alleged rapist is a local financier of the party. And that is not all. The police officer who defied Khamata and went on to investigate the rape charges was soon transferred elsewhere. The culprits remain at large and the memory of the rape has been lost to the IPL frenzy. A few news papers who had occasionally criticized Khamata Banerjee’s rule have also been the target of her ire, so much so that, the state sponsored libraries were directed not to renew their subscriptions under a new law which sought to regulate which papers will be allowed in the libraries. The ones that have been kept out are the ones Ms Banerjee herself has been openly been naming in public as being critical of her. And more recently came the senseless move by the state government to evict slum dwellers at Nonadanga to be given away to corporate MNC’s. We gotta build London you see. It reminds me of the 80s movie “Coolie” where the villain apparently “Gaarib ko hatao to Gaaribi khud ba khud maar jayga” which translates “Kill the poor people poverty would automatically disappear. A slum full of refugees and job seeking youth from rural Bengal had come and settled in this locality with an ambition to start a new life with a new job. Nonadanga is what they have been calling home since the time they stepped into the city. A tin roof supported by those loosely held bamboo sticks was all that protected them from the vagaries of the weather. But on the afternoon of an unfaithful April sun, some municipality bulldozers crushed them to dust while the crying mob was being beaten up by the men in uniform. Even pregnant women were not spared. When it comes to state sponsored terrorism, Khamata Banerjee’s government truly has never discriminated against any caste or creed.In a recently held public meeting, Ms. Banerjee had the audacity to face thousands of people and proclaimed that her government deserves a 9 out of 10 if evaluated by the sane. Notwithstanding the insanities of her own government, the point is why would people have to dissent if everything is fine as she claims them to be. The fact remains that people have already become tired of all her boastful lies and fake promises. In a recent move, she has promised to start paying a salary to all maulavis in the state. This did not quite go down well even with her own supporters as the last thing they wanted in the name of change is the same old vote bank politics. Not only does this move goes against all notions of secularism, worse still it comes at the cost of public money in a state that is reeling under a Rs. 2 lakh crore debt. Besides the infighting between the Congress and the Trinamool has reached new heights and how long this partnership will continue is a question mark. What the people of West Bengal really want is a genuine political alternative that stand for the oppressed and the working people of the state and not be like a touchy 12 year old girl. But apparently our CM doesn't have the Tolerance factor in her. As a matter of fact she doesn't even understand the word. I am ashamed of her. She seems to me as a female version of Hoover who is breathing down our necks to brand us Communist and Maoist. Her Maophobia is going out of hands. And the things a Psycopath and a Paranoic can do is quite known to us all. We have left the city at the hands of our own Norman Myer. (Materal contributed from various sources) .>

For I love SRK (Stammer Rukh, Can't) - A romantic journey from a gay soldier to a Nintendo toy

I love you K-kkkkkkk-kiran. Off Course many of you have fond memories of throwing up on these lines. I had to puke my entire lunch and coke and chips and the truth to my then girlfriend about the fling I was having post viewing this spastic delivery of romance. However it took me 3 IPLs, anal sex and breast implants to really understand the commercial importance of this statement in the history of Calcutta cricket franchises - IPL. It was highlighted by a good friend and fellow transvestite who often sneak around corporate houses and toilets about how our hallowed team was named 76 moons ago. As he said, after the various blood rituals were completed at the ladies washroom (which included sacrifice of 5 rats and 21 pregnant cockroaches) of a prestigious Calcutta hotel SRK (Stammer Rukh Cant) and his jolly follies came down to the most important part of the ceremony, naming the team. Stammer Rukh in his usual charming, gay self said “Kkkkkkya Hoga mera team kkkka naam”, “kkkkoi kkkkkuch to kkkkkahey” “kkkkkkamino”. Well thus carried on the constant bombardment of SRK stammerositis till half the jolly follies were hurt or fatally wounded. Finally, to stop further life and property loss, it was decided the team would be kkkalled Kkkkkolkata Riders commemorating the bisexual cyclists, the sexually mute and the Bihari rickshaw pullers of this great city. Drafts were done. Logos made. And on the eve of the first press release some goofing journo caught Stammer Rukh’s KKKkkkkkks and Kolkata Riders or KR became KKKKR in front of a full media house. Now all brand honchos from the world over were summoned to justify the other Ks in the KKKKKR and stuff like Kamina, Killer, Kleptomaniac, Klutz, Kutta and million others were jotted down on a stolen sanitary napkin before Didi’s (Khamata Banerjee) very own maophobic, one eyed midget numerologist Mukul who chose the tag "Knights" as the 2nd K. (as the other K’s he couldn’t see) of KKR. Thus we Calcuttans proudly inherited KKR. While the straight and jealous few in the city fervently hoped that KKR would have the same luck as Kiran in that ill fated movie and get chance to be rid of Stammer Rukh. But alas Sunny Deol is not interested in Calcutta or IPL as long as they don’t get into mud wrestling. We love KKR. And we simply lurrve Stammer Rukh. We Indians are a emotional lot and always have a soft disposition towards the under privileged, criminals, invaders, terrorists, gays, handicaps, Americans and other social, political and physically partials. We cry every time a Bisexual or an American gets run over by a cow. We bleed for the culturally empty states of Bihar and Hariyana. We all contribute at least a part of our taxes to the spastic society of Bollywood. We feel so empathetic whenever we watch the poor things trying to do something on the screen. Never could figure out what. Well it’s the least we could do for charity – watch a SRK movie. As I was saying we love Stammer Rukh. We fell in love with him when he did his first gay film on the psychological redundants of the city “Paazipurrr”. Here was this awesome crime thriller where he was a stammering race car driver with a sinus problem. He ultimately managed to kill his girlfriend and her father by constantly stammering into their ears an old Sinatra song “My Black Black Bums”. He was about to kill the director, the producer and the entire crew by singing nasal songs before the society of stray animals apprehended him mistakenly for a cross breed between a stray pug and a parrot. (His clothes were blunt and too colorful you see). We loved this film. It had all that we had expected. Torture. Sodomy. Arson and Dogs. Having Stammer Rukh alongside in my formative years has done wonders to my character. I have grown up to be Strong, Confident and a Pervert. Stammer Rukh’s most scholarly flick was “Maya” It was universally popular amidst parents, teachers and pimps. It was the only legal Porn those days akin to “My friend’s Hot Mom”. This was a mindless story of a cougar in heat doing steamy seduction with a scarecrow. Stammer Rukh brilliantly portrayed the ethos and the pathos of a straw man. In bed Stammer couldn’t do much, as his only introduction to sex till then were Bangkok She Boys. However nobody was too keen on seeing him either. This movie had a overwhelming impression on me and the likes of me, who quickly developed everlasting sexual fantasies on older women. I still peep when my Grandma (96) goes in to pee. James Cagney’s Angel’s with dirty faces was first done in Bollywood in 1994 as Ganjaam and later shown across the Atlantic in the 1930s. This real to life portrayal of a cuckoo criminal has been engraved in the Parthenon of Bollywood, the Juhu Beach. This was also a terribly academic film of those days. Part of my friends who couldn’t become perverts due to lack of imagination found a new direction in life. Arson and Serial Killing. GGLJ (Gillwale Gulonia Le Jayenge) was a box office thump. Overnight 26000 girls all under the age of 12 decided to run away from home following the screening of GGLJ. This was a very touching story about a wannabe stammer from East End London with a sexual fixation on his Mandolin and a ugly black sailor cap. Both had apparently become a sort of obsession with him. He seemed to attach almost a spiritual importance to them. He refused to be a Paki cabby like his father and runs away to India (Like Kasab) and tries his luck at women below 12. It received a dozen awards at the Nutty Film Festival held each year at the Ranchi Mental Asylum, for its portrayal of child abuse and ugly head gears. The film also had a very good bit on aspiring Ornithologists specialising on vampire pigeons. Since then my affection for Stammer Rukh has driven me and many other learned jack asses to many many many of his intellectually unbearble and torturously repetitive films wherein he always played either a 40 year old college student (KKHH, DTPH, etc), a mal nourished Don with a fetish for used Sunglasses (Don 1, 2,3,4,5,…n), a Jewish Music Teacher from Poland (Maha bhatein), An American Transvestite with a nose job, A Pakistani Cab Driver with a wet palms, A goat, A agnostic horse, and many, many, many other immortal roles. I’m a bit foggy and don’t remember all the names as these movies have given me and the half of India a welcome Alzheimer’s so that we could be spared of the mental trauma of the aftermath. Well nevertheless it was a great bunch Stammer Rukh. Stealthier than the N Bomb. I never understood your movies I'm a bit short on brain myself the old bean would appear to have been constructed more for ornament than for use. But what made me love you was that fact even you didn’t understand them. I always found your films better than having long cozy chats with my putrid aunt. We still love you Stammer Rukh even if you are have been lately diagnosed with OCD and Paranoia which keeps on giving you illusions that you are King of Bollywood (Psst. Is there really a country by that name?). Had you been a bit healthy and drank your veggies as a child we could have still considered you as King Kong of Bollywood but whatever you are darling, you reign in this heart of mine and millions of dements like me, in million gay and silicon fantasies, right next to the Texan Chain Saw Guy. So what if the erudite love Amitabh Bacchan? We can cross China on a one eyed she horse to see you crying, stammering and even going to the extent of changing your sex to be like him – remember winning is not all. Its participation in the race, which you did. I hate Amitabh Bachhan with his tall structure, deep baritone voice, his manly looks, his series of beautiful women, his box office hits and his ability to act and recite. We love you for being the pansy that you are. We love you for your pony tail wig, your charming smile, your nintendo aspirations, your loud Armani ties and your bum friendship with that gay kid Karan Johar. For we need all sorts to make this world. You are probably the only movie star from Bombay who had the innate idiocy to ape Amitabh. When he did Don you did Done. When he did Realty Shows, You tried your hand at Unreality shows. When he burped, you farted”. We love you more because of this sweet jealousy and insecurity of yours that is so child like, so effeminate, so genuine and so gay. I firmly believe that one day you would stop sitting on the side-lines with a blanket over your shoulders, waiting for a chance to get into the game itself. And may the best girl win. It was a shock initially when you got into cricket. We all thought perfect piffle. How the deuce could Stammer Rukh know anything about it. But you proved us wrong again. We loved you each time when you screwed up with cricket and IPL. We love your stupidity that even without the faintest idea about the game you decided to own a cricket team. However you have made us proud by having the only delinquent team in IPL. We have snobs, louts, losers, cross dressers, criminals, Pakis and all sorts in our beloved KKR. You have given Eden Gardens and the stoic Bengali a new vision and perception every time you show up. Now Calcutta firmly believes that it is possible to do miracles with Plastic Surgery, boob job, and fairness creams work. We are thankful till you don’t take up commentary. Calcutta also holds a special place for you in politics. Your deep insight and kinky thoughts have made you possibly the only person east of Atlantic to fall in love with Khamata Banerjee. Its so wonderful to see your “I scratch your bum, you scratch mine” relation. We derive our hope and faith from you that she would soon transform our state into a sanctuary for all rapists, murderers, homos, niggers, psychos and all other wonderful kinds. Darling please deal with your mid life crisis and don’t go around beating men in uniform. I do understand its kinky. But wont want you to hurt your nose job someday. Stammer Rukh Cant, do carry on in the way you are, we Indians have always been a tolerant and ignorant lot. We would love you if help us become Pakistan again. We would worship you if you can bring silicon outside the microchip. We would want you if make Gayism the main religion of the country. However if (Oh God Please) you ever do decide to go into jute business, or decide to immigrate to Peru we’d be equally happy. Love an admirer. .

Porbortonsheel Pujo Ashcche! - Mc Donald Durga Dekko

Although I am a “rootless” or ruthless Bengali as has been generously estimated by some very close friends on both sides of the Atlantic, I do get my share of melancholy at the mention of the Durga Pujas. Since this is June and just a few months to go before the Dhak heralds in the festivals, my mind is also on a migrating mode. Casually, peeking at fares to Calcutta during those months, impassively bring up the topic at the dinner discussions and slowly creating a build-up and reminiscising about this wonder of a festival that has been so much a part of me. While doing this I perchance tumbled upon an article in Telegraph published not so long ago and I found it quite interesting and “Poribortornsheel”, which seems to be the key word that is making circles around the Calcutta periphery nowadays. I doused my petty bourgeoisie, anti – Poribortornsheel sentiments in a cup of cheap scotch and decided to join the bandwagon. Enough of “Ek-Chala Thakur”, who gives a damn anyways. I would plunge into the Mc Donald Durga and enjoy a cholesterol free snack of it. Sarbojonin is the essence in the good old city of Charnok nowadays. We now have Delhiites, Biharis, Marwaris, Pathans, Jaats even Pakistanis who have been acclaimed as the sons of Bengal. Well needless to say, this article spiked my interest by the concept of Durga Puja it suggested and the consumerist side of this event. Its awe inspiring how we as “Poribortornsheel” Bangali have designed strategies of this neo Durga Puja concept including stories about Puja committees that have sold all branding rights to an US company and another that has a promotional music video and about Zee Bangla coming up with the ultimate business plan, telecasting live the beautiful people at Maddox Square, the hallowed ground of my Puja memoirs of youth. This inspired my small snippet from a “Poribortornsheel” Puja Committee meeting. Setting: A Puja committee meeting, somewhere in Blue Kolkata. Circa 2012. Asit-da (ardently “Poribortornsheel” and a devout believer of Didi and also the president of this Puja committee): Nontu, so have the people from Sheyal TV Bangla (Fox TV’s Bangla venture) sent in the 1 Crore check for the Pujo sponsorship? Nontu (ardently “Poribortornsheel” and a devout believer of Didi and also the secretary of this Puja committee): Asit-da this year we decided to do things a little bit differently. Do you remember Habla? Asit-da: Of course how can I not remember Habla? A JU engineer, bright, focused, brings me the annual quota of single malt whisky. Stays in the US but still so committed to the cause and our parar pujo. During the Singur andolon, he was a front-line warrior with us, beating up the people who tried to enter the plant. I still remember Habla standing in the setting afternoon sun, throwing stones at the Nano plant and shouting Tata-Bye Bye. He also ran away with that communist footballer’s wife, well that's another story. So what about him? Nontu: Well after the Singur andolon, he joined Tata Consultancy Services as a business analyst and then went to US. There he forged an MBA with help of some Bangladeshi guys or something and has opened a marketing consultancy of his own in Manhattan. Some communist people even raised a rumor that he was selling fake Phd degrees to Africans. They would stoop to anything Chhi!! When he heard that we had given Sheyal TV Bangla exclusive sponsorship last year, he was pretty upset. He is still so much the parar chele, you see Asit-da. Asit-da: Why, has Sheyal TV Bangla said something against Didi’s (dubious) PhD? Do we have to go and break some chairs and computers at the Sheyal TV Bangla office? [Getting up] Nontu: No no not that. He feels that we should sell rights of different parts of the Pujo to different commercial entities. He called it “more bling bling”. He seemed so knowledgeable that we have decided to give the Puja rights to his firm “Jaaliyaati Inc.” and he will sell it out to different companies. He says we can get lots more money that way. This boy was always so smart. Asit-da: (a bit worried): I don’t know….how much more? Nontu: INR 2 Crore Asit-da, he says. Double of last time. Asit-da: The problem with these corporate sponsorships is that they make us do so many compromises. For instance, I have been wanting to do Ma Durga-r face in the image of Didi and the Asur with 3 heads—Ratan Tata, Saurabh Ganguly and Buddhadeb Bhattacharya but every time Sheyal TV has rejected my idea. I am sure even this time… (Looks depressed and forlorn) Nontu: Come on Asit-da. Be rational. I know that we owe a lot to Didi —after all had not Didi made all industries leave Bengal, we wouldn’t have such beautiful open spaces to have our Puja pandals. Think of the brilliant work she is doing for the environment, preserving oxygen, deleting unwanted Maoist people (mostly poor villagers) who are useless to the state. She has even taken up the role of scolding impish college children nowadays. Such a great woman. But come on, even then we cannot just put Didi’s face on Ma Durga! If we do, how will we ever get the “Red Bull” Sarad Somman award which you know has strong CPM connections? Besides we have a big list of choices for traditional Ma Durga’s face—-Deepika Padukone, Priyanka Chopra and Angelina Jolie. Surely we cannot compromise on that? Besides, this will attract the youth and promoters. Remember Didi has always mentioned to focus on the youth and promoters. They are the most gullible, brain dead and glue sniffed class that believes everything on Star Anando. If you insist, we will put Didi’s picture on Kolabou (Ganesha’s wife depicted by a banana-branch covered by a white sari)…. Asit-da: Okay okay….Whatever. So what does Habla recommend we do? Nontu: Well first of all, he has negotiated a sweet deal with the Sheyal TV guys. This year they will pay INR 50 Lacs but for that they only get rights for putting the television cameras in front of our pandal and not exclusive sponsorship like last time. Habla talked to the Sheyal TV people and advised them to be more upfront with its promotion of their program—no more “Sharod dorshon” (Durga Puja telecast) like last time which he felt didn’t quite convey the message. Asit-da: Not convey the message? Nontu: Yes. This time he recommends calling it “Bari theke Jhari” (Sneak from Home). The message is simple—why come all the way in the crowd and heat and jostle with the thousands to catch a glimpse of the boudi in a backless blouse or Rumki-Jhumki in a tight skirt, all the time pretending to be watching the idol, when you can sit at the comforts of your home, open a packet of Lay’s chips and a Pepsi and ogle in peace. Of course every 15 seconds the camera will cut away to an image of Ma Durga so that when thakuma (grandmother) or ma (mother) comes into the room, she will not know what you are doing. Asit-da: Sounds good. What about this year’s music video? Can your Boudi and I dance in it this time? I have lost 4 Kgs since last October. Your boudi has been taking Bollywood dancing lessons at South City. And I have even started dyeing my hair. Nontu (hesitantly): Actually Asit-da why don’t you do it next year? This year Sheyal TV has already conceptualized the promotional music video. There will be Bangla mega-star Dev dancing with a bunch of models from Uzbekistan, all clad in traditional Bangali white-sari-with-red-border(lal paar sari) and string tops to the tune of ” Jibonto Protima Darshan” (seeing live goddesses), which Habla says succinctly conveys our Pujo’s USP. Not sure yet, but Sheyal TV says they can also get Himesh Reshammiya to sing this song. If that doesn’t work out, we always have Aneek Dhar. Our very own son of Bengal, the man whose claim to fame is that he sings “Kajra Re ” and Sachin Dev Burman songs perfectly in a female voice. Asit-da: (A bit out of air) any caaltural event or is it all Bollywood? Maybe some Rabindra Sangeet? Didi always liked Rabindra Sangeet and she always misquotes from them. Ish if Kabir Suman wouldn’t have turned a traitor we could have called him. He was cheap and would have agreed to sing for 1 lac and a little shoulder brushing with the parar boudis, I still have some of his songs in my Laptop in a hidden file. (Sighs) Nontu (defiantly): Na Na. That would be sacrilege. He is a despot. A tormuj (Water Melon). Green outside and red inside. Besides, why do you want Kabir Suman? Can he sing? All bogus songs, Gariahat Mini Bus and what not. Don’t you know Shahrukh Khan is our new brand ambassador? Didi said he is a true Son of this soil. He was born and raised in Bengal. Our cultural aspirations should be around him only. We would get Himesh through Sheyal TV and have him sing all SRK songs across the 5 days. Asit-da: Sounds good. So what about the rest of the sponsorship? Nontu: Habla has another great idea here. Get individual corporate sponsorships for each God. For instance, Lord Ganesh will be sponsored by Dr. Sen’s Weight Loss Clinic, Laxmi Devi will be sponsored by Vyasa Bank, Sharma IIT classes have expressed deep interest in sticking a flier on Saraswati Devi’s head and branding her beena (Stringed instrument) and Lord Kartik will get a deal from Raymonds and Fair and Lovely cream for men. Each of these sponsorships is for approximately INR 10 lacs. For 30 lacs, Ma Durga’s rights have been sold to Kolkata Knight Riders. In exchange, Ma Durga will wear a KKR golden helmet, her trident will be replaced by a stump, the Asur will look like Salman Khan (who as you know is Knight Riders owner Shahrukh Khan’s sworn enemy) and the slogan “Korbo Lorbo Jeetbo Re” will be written in a semi-circular fashion behind Ma’s head. All the idols would wear the KKR jersey especially after our tumultuous win over that communist Dhoni. This victory Asit-da, is memorable event in Banglar history more important than Battle of Plassey. As Didi has rightly said this victory would accelerate the progress and development in the state. KKR is associated with our Bengali soil, the players and managers are all Bengalees and they have won with the blessings from the Bengalee mummies. We are even trying to put SRK’s face on Shiv Thakur. Asit-da: Excellent. So will Mithun-da be the brand ambassador of this year’s Pujo also? Nontu: Slight problem. Mithun-da is associated with the ICL besides he is also a bit Leftist, This year he made a movie called Shukno “Lal” Lonka. This was an absolute Maoist movie. He could have called it Shukno Pepe (Papaya), Begun (Egg Plant) or even Kola (Banana). No he had to call it Lanka (Chilly). If he is there, Kolkata Knight Riders will withdraw their sponsorship. Plus Mithunda might insist that Lord Ganesha’s face be modeled on Mimo’s with the Asur wearing a T-shirt that says “Am I a rejected person?” Now you see we already have 3 top contenders for Asur. Buddhadeb, Saurav and Ratan Tata. How can we give it to Mimo? Asit-da (Nodding in agreement): I still remember thirty years ago, when I was a kid, Sukhen Das wearing a jean jacket covering his paunch would inaugurate the Pujo. Well, in any case, if not Mithun-da then who? Nontu: We might try Rituporna... Asit-Da: No No are you crazy? Not that……ahem…. man! He is always obsessed with bodily fluids, be it urine or other things of a periodic nature. Besides he might even come wearing a saree. How can we have him as part of our traditional Pujo? Nontu: Arrey, I mean Rituporna the actress and not Rituporno. Asit-Da: Ooh! good good. The lady Rituparna and not half lady Rituparna you mean. Oh! I love her. (Quickly Looks around surreptuously). Did you see the sex scene in Charulata 2011. Killer I say. (Looks all excited and beaming) Nontu: Asit-da please get a grip on yourself. You just had an angioplasty 2 months back. You may be a TMC supporter but you have to stop this lechery. As I was saying, in addition, we have the usual sponsorships for food-stalls, the Grihini (housewife) Games every afternoon, basically everything we had last year. We are calling Mir to conduct the games. All the ladies like him. He has promised to do impersonation of Biman, Soniaji, Dhoni, Saurav and all other Maoisits. Asit-da: Nontu any sponsorship for the pandal décor? Nontu: Absolutely, with SRK and KKR with us DLF and Pepsi has promised to build our pandal just like South City Mall. Air Conditioned and everything. Just one condition, which the faces of all the idols and the inside of the pandals should be blue and all committee members should also wear blue. Which is fine as Didi is changing Calcutta to “Blue” we might as well follow her great steps? Asit-Da: Excellent. I really can’t stand the heat and sweat at this age any more. Even your Boudi complains about it. Kanu-da (ardently “Poribortornsheel” and a devout believer of Didi and 60 years old Vice President): Call me an old stick but is this Pujo? This seems to be a gigantic corporate enterprise—where is the personal touch, the feeling of community and togetherness, the simple joys of Pujo? Asit-Da: Kanu-da, you don’t understand things have changed…. Kanu-Da: I know I know. You guys have it so easy now. In our days, we had to fight for every paisa as we went from para (street) to para begging for chanda (subscriptions). I remember writing fake receipts from last year and shouting at people saying “You had paid Rs 500 last year. Why not this year” even when we knew the poor guy moved in a few months ago. And then there were the turf wars with Four Friends Boys Club with pipes and hockey sticks and hours spent standing on the main road, often in the pouring rain, stopping trucks and collecting “Ma Durga” tax. Ahh those days! (Sighs nostalgically). Things were so simple and personal. Intimidating the Chatterjee widow for Rs 100, vandalizing that miser Dr. Sarkar’s car every year—sometimes slashing his tires, sometimes scratching his bonnet with Gold Spot caps, peeing on the door of that crazy ass Pandey, puncturing the rice sacks of old Lalaji. I still remember the look of hurt and anguish on the face of the people when we would arm-twist subscriptions —ah the spirit of the Pujos. Nowadays you guys snap your fingers and so much money comes from these faceless corporate behemoths, who don’t even want you to beg and plead and grovel. Where is the fun? Nontu: Yes those old days sure sound good. But then again Kanu-da, as you know times have changed, we say for the better. Wait, that’s my cellphone….seems to be Habla from Manhattan…Hello….what? We got Himesh? And what? Wow ! Hey Asit-da hear this. We got Rakhi Sawant for Hayward’s 5000 Bhashan naach (“immerson dance”)? No kidding……… (All the thoughts are not entirely mine. All charecters are imaginery bears no resemblance with any person living or dead) .