Our Funarena!

Deben was not surprised when his old colleague Bedanta phoned him in the morning asking if he could come over for a social duty. Bedanta told him sometime back that the marriage of his only daughter was coming up, and that Deben must be free to attend on that date. Bedanta was not just a colleague, but also a friend thanks to their long association in work. There were family-level interactions too at various opportunities. His daughter, a sweet child, was known to both Deben and his wife Anjana. He already discussed it with Anjana not to miss that occasion and to buy a nice gift in advance. So he said yes immediately, and informed his wife that Bedanta would be visiting them in the afternoon. His afternoon nap had become mandatory since his retirement a few months back. For the past one month he had been mostly sleeping or lying down in the daytime too because of his road accident when his right hand was badly fractured. He was still having his right hand plastered and strappe

I was disturbed by various ‘business’ calls during work on that day. Since the Indian festive season was in full bloom such calls were not that unnatural. Getting exasperated with a plethora of telemarketing calls from banks, insurance companies and the like I ignored one from an absolutely unknown mobile number. When the same number called again, I answered thinking it could be an important call from someone not at all connected to the lot. I cursed myself as the lady voice spoke up on the other side... ‘Hello Sir, I’m calling from xyz finance company...” “Yes?” I responded. “Sir, our xyz finance company is giving you an overdraft facility...” “Why?” “Sir, half of your monthly salary will be given as overdraft to you...” “Why?” “Sir, the amount will be totally interest free...” “Why?” “So Sir, where do you work and what is your monthly salary?” And then I hung up. The audacious lady tried several times later on. However, I decided to follow the age-old dic

The big boss seemed to be exuding benevolence of the highest order as he took in his company team members seated in front of him in the conference room. He often prided himself in knowing every member of his team on first name basis, and always listened to their views or problems in a very friendly way. Recently he initiated an office procedure to improve the overall quality of performance and operations. True to his nature, before implementing this procedure he wanted to know how everyone felt about it. He wanted free and frank opinions and also meaningful suggestions. So he called for this particular meeting. Although I was the latest addition to the team I had already gathered useful bits of information about my new boss. Again, true as always to his nature he never wanted to make it a predictable affair with members standing up and speaking in a monotonous serial order—one by one row wise. Instead, he decided who would speak at what time. He would announce names at random

Kumartuli or Kumortuli is located in the northern part of the city of Kolkata. The locality is a traditional habitat of the potters for nearly three hundred years. The potters or the artisans or the artists settled here during the restructuring of the Kolkata colonial region by the British East India Company. Earning a livelihood by making earthen pots and utensils first they gradually shifted to the making of the idols of Gods and Goddesses for various festivals round the year.  With increasing demand and quality of their creations over time the artisans became famous and Kumartuli came to be known as the hub of idol makers supplying thousands of idols, particularly of Goddess Durga, to whole of the state of West Bengal and to NRIs of around 90 countries across the globe. At least three months before Durga Puja, the biggest festival of West Bengal and one of the biggest across Eastern India, more than five hundred workshops come alive with hyper activity day and night.