My Page

It's a sad time for humanity. The world over, a wave of tyranny, willfulness and the might of power has taken over the lives of common people. The ordinary person never mattered anyway, but now their insignificance has reached new lows. Whether its in administration, business, health, education, science and technology, medicine, arms control, environment management, or simply quality of life, if you have the moolah, you have everything. And this is more pronounced in developing countries like India. We are so far away from real progress that it seems like it will take a lifetime to reach a decent quality of life. Yes, despite our space missions and IT supremacy, we are far away from real development. Quality of Life? Get a decent education they said. Well, prepare to shell out your life's savings first. Any school worth its name will demand exorbitant fees and security deposits that are guaranteed to give you a mini heart attack. Then comes the actual struggle of your child - k...

From the story, The Curious Mr. Rakshit.... "Of late, observing the young couple in the opposite flat had become his favourite pastime.  He would wait till they woke up around nine in the morning. As an early riser who woke up with the sun, he couldn’t fathom how they slept in so late. “Taking advantage of work-from-home”, he thought slyly. “Lazy no-gooders!” He had discovered other facets of their lives too, peeping from his window every now and then. The wife would argue with her husband every now and then. Obviously, he couldn’t hear what they quarrelled about, but he saw her pointing fingers at him and walking around agitated. The husband didn’t react much usually. Sometimes though, Mr. Rakshit observed him talk back defiantly to his wife. It satisfied him that the man refused to be cowed down. What was a man without a spine, huh? He would hide behind the curtain and see this drama being played out. His own life was plain vanilla compared to all this melodrama. His wife and he...

When an Indian film makes it the prestigious Cannes film festival, the world sits up and takes notice! And the lovely ladies swinging on the stage is a recent memory that brings a sense of pride. I had the good fortune to catch this film on screen recently. A review of such work is unnecessary, but still am bursting to say a few words. Right from the scintillating background score, to the events that unfold like pages fluttering in an open book, to the effortless performances, it's a masterpiece all right! The first half romances Mumbai- in the rains, at night, in the bazaars, in dingy rooms, in the local trains. Image source: Wikipedia  The second half shows what light truly is, brilliant sunshine, crashing waves and salty air in a small coastal village in Maharashtra. You can feel the taste of salt, the breeze in your hair and the touch of sand under your feet, the cinematography is so real. Payal Kapadia masters the art of holding back, of showing beauty in the mundane. The hosp...

Don't judge the book by its cover, they say. But in today's appearance-crazy times, a book is not only judged but also bought on the basis of its cover! So, an author has to spend considerable time threshing out ideas and images, and finally agreeing on something that truly reflects the spirit of her writing. And here's the result! Much heartburn, sulks and shouting matches later, I have finalized this. Hope my prospective readers like it too! Fingers crossed for the book release next week!  #bookrelease #coverreveal #shortstorycollection  #newbookalert

At a time when I'm gearing up for the launch of my third literary venture, here come some words of appreciation from people I look up to: Julie Bannerjee Mehta , noted Literary Critic, Academic and Author:  "The allure of Barnali Roy's style of telling a story is the lucidity and simplicity with which she weaves plot and chharacter. Refreshingly understated, yet persuasive in the deft way she reveals human emotions -- be it a innocent victim of a betrayer who used her, or a parent who is unable to understand his child-- she conjures her fictional  landscapes with the deep understanding of the pain and separation of the blows that young and old must battle everyday. Her insightful  prose is for readers across borders." Sourabh Mukherjee , bestselling Author of true crime and psychological thrillers: "Set in contemporary urban India, Barnali's stories are about self-discovery. In her free-flowing yet impactful narrative style, she writes about our dreams and as...

There's something about autumn. A sense of wistful yearning. A longing for the past. A chair by the window, with a cup of tea, and memories for company.  It's the season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, as Shelley had said so memorably.  A year is almost coming to an end. We take stock of what we have done through these 10 months. What dreams remain to be fulfilled,  what aspirations are waiting to get closure. Some stories evoke the sense of autumn. Aftertaste is a book of such short stories...coming out soon. #newbookalert #autumnstories #shortstories #aftertaste #halflivedlife #mellowed #lifestories

Image Source - IMDb Have you seen poetry on celluloid? A soft, lilting song playing out in slow motion? A story unpeeling itself, episode by episode?  I have revisited Shoojit Sircar's exquisitely beautiful movie, October. The whole film unspools like poetry in motion. Each frame, each movement, each word adds to the lyrical quality of the touching film. And Shantanu Moitra's mellifluous background score brings it to life. I still can't get that haunting music out of my mind. Whoever would have thought a mainstream film - about a sudden, freak accident that sends the lead actress into coma could be so very ephemeral, so lyrical? Most part of the movie unfolds in a hospital room, amidst catheters, ECG machines, drips, and hospital beds. Yet, the way the director has handled this serious theme is spectacular.  Celluloid lyricism, economy of expression The director works his magic through poetic frames, expressions, seamless transitions, verbal and non-verbal imagery. His stor...

Durga Pujo is a week long celebration these days in Bengal. Dazzling decorations, jaw-dropping idols, exclusive theme-based decor, lighting, sound effects, installations, the entire city of Kolkata is now a giant road-show or carnival or feast for the senses.  From the second or third day of Debi Paksha, the crowds start swelling and you bump into all kind of revelers or "pandal hoppers", as we call them.   For the uninitiated, pandal hoppers are that breed of enthu-cutlets visitors who flit from pandal to pandal ticking off the must-see pujas from their list. This list has the names of this year's popular "theme pujas", as well as the traditional crowd pullers. Also included in the list are the "award" winning pujas that are discussed on social media for either uniqueness or shock value or some other x-factor.  The variety of pandal hoppers is eclectic. From the bundle of endless energy kids, to the selfie-clicking youngster, to the middle aged honcho...

It's almost October... This time used to be the best to shop for new clothes, given that Durga pujo is just a week away. But this year, it's been starkly different. Not even the pandemic could dull festivities,  as the R.G.Kar incident has. Tilottama still waits for justice. So do scores or rape/molestation/abuse victims suffering in silence in our country. We are shaken, shattered, in no mood to celebrate.  Yet.....and yes, there's a yet. For several small craftspeople, artisans, weavers, designers, this is the time they do maximum business every year. To sit and mourn is not something they can afford.  There is a Banglar Tanter Haat on in Boi Mela grounds, Korunamoyee, Salt Lake, for the past two weeks. Business has been abysmal, say the artisans sadly, yet resignedly. They too are hoping Tilottama gets justice.  But they have families to feed. When they don't have even a single sale in a day, they know they can't buy that trinket for their daughter back home. The...

At some point of our lives, we need to ask ourselves - what is more important? To raise one's voice against what's wrong. or to just let things be and get on with our regular lives? Be immune to something - since it hasn't happened to me, or stand up and protest - because it can some day? Come September-October, and there's a festive feel in the air in our country. Ganesh puja, followed by Navratri and Durga Puja, then Deepavali, are the mega festivals we wait for all year.  To Celebrate What? But festivals are enjoyable only when civic systems are in good health and the society is healthy. If there is glaring rot in society, no festival or celebration can cheer us up.  People in power dangle the carrots of religious festivities, along with the pet drugs of Bollywood, celebrity weddings and IPL, to distract public attention from actual problems plaguing our society. Maslow had explained the hierarchy of needs about a century back. Unless the basic requirements of safety...

Farah Bashir's Rumours of Spring recounts her own experiences as a girl growing up in turbulent Kashmir. The book is semi-autobiographical and recalls the horrors of insurgency in Kashmir, particularly it's devastating effects on the lives of ordinary people. Each part of the book describes a particular phase in her life. Growing up in the 90s, when terrorism besieged Kashmir, she recounts how her family - living in a large mansion in downtown Srinagar, bears the brunt of losses in family business, snatching way of personal freedoms, simple pleasures and mostly, the liberty to live the life they want.  The language is intimate, drawing you within, as if you are a fly on the wall in her drawing room, observing things. She paints images through her words and descriptions. Of a shuttered window, of an abandoned attic, of closed cinema halls, and barbed wires, marching boots and flashing searchlights.  She focuses on the impact that army clampdowns and constant policing had on ord...

The recent horrifying, stomach-churning incident in Kolkata is not a one-time aberration. It keeps occuring in our country. And we women are also responsible for this stinking rot in society. Ask yourself these uncomfortable questions. How many of you protest when a girl wearing "revealing clothes" is cat-called?  Did you show your support for our wrestlers protesting against a habitual offender? Did your blood boil when you saw pictures of our sisters in Manipur paraded naked?  When rapists are released from prison or routinely escape punishment, do you raise your voice? How many of you have tolerated violence or even casual sexism in your own home? Do you turn the other way when transgenders are leered at? Do you grin and bear it when the men in your family crack obscene jokes? Do Kathua and Hathras ring a bell? And lastly, how many of you thronged cinema halls to make misogynistic horrors like Animal and Kabir Singh blockbusters? I have asked myself and am distinctly feeli...

My beloved country India is at the threshold of completing 77 years of independence. Its certainly a joyous occasion, one that needs to be cherished and celebrated.  Then why am I not feeling like celebrating? Why does my spirit dampen like the dark clouds? Why am I not proud of what my country has become? Why does a heavy sadness weigh on my heart? Because I am aware of what is around me. For one, inequality is at a historic high. While an appalling number of people are still sleeping hungry, without a roof over their head, we hear of never-seen before monstrous wedding celebrations. We learn that 2% Indians are worth more than 80% Indians' collective net wroth. We see open flouting of norms, rules, standards to manipulate the market and secure profits. We know ballots are being tampered. We hear judges being threatened, we see the police serving the powerful.  Students burning the midnight oil to clear unbelievably tough competitive exams are being cheated of a fair chance o...

Its an open secret that the education system in India is in a mess. Examinations are still considered the touchstone of a student's worth. Relentless suicides and the running away of young children from home under academic pressure, have not been able to dent our obsession with marks. The IITs and IIMs are still Meccas for the middle class, and getting into them means enrolling their child in coaching factories in Kota. Doesn't matter whether they can cope or opt to tie a noose around their neck. How does a otherwise good student deal with this pressure to excel, particularly when her performance has not been to her satisfaction? How does parental scrutiny and censure hit a young vulnerable mind? This excerpt from my story will give an idea: Excerpt from Can I Wash Off the Shame? Ma and Dad were making such a big deal about the ICSE results, she was really worried. She – their only child, the sole flagbearer of their ambitions, what if she didn’t perform that well and did just ...

Writing isn't easy or immediately rewarding, but still I love to write. Maybe because I have so many things to share, so many anecdotes to tell, so many lives to vicariously live. Would you like to know about my second book, and why I wrote it? A glance at Fragrance of Dried Flowers My second book, Fragrance of Dried Flowers , as the name suggests, deals with the paradox of dried flowers having their own fragrance, a rare kind of beauty. It is the imperfect people who create happiness, build relationships with love, and seek solace within themselves. If we, as parents, can contribute our bit by being less critical, less judgmental, and more forgiving, the world would truly be a happier place. Parents, particularly mothers, have a strong role in shaping the lives of their children. A mother’s unconditional love is critical in the life of a child. She can bolster her child’s self-esteem with her kind words and constant support, or break it with her rejection. In the story, “ Ca...

Hollywood has a way with animation films that strike the right balance between entertainment and life lessons. And Disney coupled with Pixar is a match made in heaven! What gems they have given us - Inside Out being the most amazing one. A brilliant film that personified emotions and took us into a tween girl's headspace, it won the Oscar for best animation film that year. Now the sequel comes with a lot of viewer expectations riding on it. Part 2 doesn't disappoint, but doesn't fascinate either. Diving into Riley's head just as she crosses 13, one would have expected more of a complexed story. Instead, the film focuses on the ice-hockey tournament that Riley is preparing for, and the introduction of new emotions, notably anxiety. Anxiety hogs a lot of space, both in terms of screen space and the way it messes up Riley. True, it does control a large part of a teenager's life, but so do confusion, angst, bewilderment and changing priorities. Wish the film t...

Part 2 of my travel diary to Kashmir starts here.  Day 3 We left Srinagar after our boat ride on Dal Lake, stopped at Pulwama for a quick lunch, then proceeded on national highway towards Pahalgam. Passing some pretty villages and oh-so-picturesque spots on the road, we travelled on till the air became distinctly chillier and the snow thicker on peaks. We reached at 8.30, and the inky blue skies revealed icy peaks all around. The river Lidder was running along, and our guest house was situated a stone's throw away. That meant that it was really COLD! Yes, Pahalgam is situated on a higher plane, and is a good 6-7 degrees lower in temperature than crowded Srinagar. At nights, the temperature drops to 3 even in peak summer! A recent snowfall had caused the chill to increase, and we rushed to our room for warmth of a heater. Unfortunately, power being a problem, there was no room heater. Electric mattresses were fitted on the bed, that took their own sweet time to warm up. The rooms we...

Kashmir - Heaven on Earth , was on my travel destination list from God knows when. Maybe from the time I watched " Kitni khubsurat yeh tasveer hai " from the Hindi film Bemisal? Or maybe those picture-perfect images they showed of the Dal Lake, shikaras, the impossibly green valleys surrounded with white peaks on Doordarshan? Or was it earlier, since the time I watched Shammi Kapoor serenading Sharmila Thakur with " Yeh chand sa roshan chehera " on  a shikara, from the film Kashmir Ki Kali? And who can forget " Yeh haseen vaadiya, yeh khula asmaan " from Roja - the first mainstream film to address the elephant in the room - that of growing terrorism in this beautiful paradise? To me, Kashmir symbolized the ultimate natural heaven, that elusive chimera that remained out of reach for ordinary people like us for more than thirty years. And when something is unreachable, it becomes irresistible. So, for my silver jubilee anniversary,  it was obvious that I wan...