Didi Darling, I Understand

Didi Darling, I Understand

Some days ago, we were treated to great hopes that a certain saffron party might be lapping up votes in the North East of the country but Didi declared through her noble spokesperson that she didn’t really care. The C.M. OF Bengal wasn’t bothered. Not a bit. Not a mite. Scared? Who she? Didi and her goons---er, sorry, I mean team were aiming for Lal Quila, that is Delhi, that is the Prime Minister’s slot. Wow! We were impressed. We puffed and preened. We wagged our tails. 

Ipsita Roy Chakraverti

Then Did set sail for Delhi to round up the would-be army of allies, the poor foot soldiers who would love to be on the winning side but didn’t have a leader to blaze the way. Didi, huffing and puffing, raised the flag of a prospective front which would overcome and squash the present government at the Centre. We all held our breaths. Was Didi doing all this to divert our attention from the anti-incumbency turmoil that her own state government in Bengal is facing?

 Be that as it may there was more hi-jinks to come. Didi in Delhi, holed up with family, that is Abhishek at South Avenue and called the would-be ministers and netas to come and see her. She proposed to talk about how they could best oust the nasties at the Centre. First, if I am not mistaken, came poor Arvind Kejriwal, with a colleague. I think it’s so cute that Arvind and Mamata are called ‘ Babli and Bunty’ . Anyhow, Didi welcomed them and before launching forth into a flurry of plans for the future she insisted they have fried, vegetable pakodas! Each one eight pakodas. No more. No less. The magic number? Had her tantric in Kolkata told her that each participant would be under her spell if she could stuff these down their gullets? But wait. Bunty was wise. He refused. Excused himself by saying that he had a health issue which prevented him from partaking of such food. He told his sweating colleague to do the honours. Poor chap. Didi was disappointed but something is better than nothing. The AAP chap had to gobble the pakodas down.
When Congress leader Ghulam Nabi Azad heard of the goings on at Abhishek’s he hastily said that all ‘charcha’ would be over ‘chai’---not pakodas.

Meanwhile, Didi met a few more disgruntled politicians who had not received much from the present regime. The motley crowd planning to take over Lal Quila was not quite what she had expected but she kept her chin up. Brave Didi. Now, she wanted to meet the Congress glamour girl Sonia who had made it a point to keep away from her. So had Rahul. But Didi was determined. She fixed up a sort of short meet with Sonia and that is all we know of Didi’s famous march to Delhi to rouse and raise a third front.

Net result? Now we hear the most fantastic and hilarious new that after Didi’s onslaught Chandrababu Naidu is doing a round of prospective allies, Sonia Gandhi says she is willing to be PM and even our poor, old, well into years former President, Pranab Mukherjee, is shuffling through the Constitution wondering if a former President can become a future Prime Minister.
What has Didi done?! And all the while she had been trying to make it quite, quite clear that she was The One. Why are people so dense?

Indians - You Are Not Wanted !

INDIANS- YOU ARE NOT WANTED!

The Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi is a man with remarkable wit and charisma. He also has  an almost instinctive knowledge of what his audiences need to hear. He can capture them in a heartbeat. But as an Indian, I felt rather overlooked and not quite appreciated when Modi met Trump in June.

First of all, wasn’t he made to wait too long for the appointment during the time Trump spent fiddling with Twitter? Then I definitely feel the hotel could have been better. For a Prime Minister, there are more imposing places to put up in Washington. Then the much hyped handshake was a bit childish I thought. The hugs were more with Modi’s initiative than Trump’s His speech was proper and diplomatic but one could not help comparing it with the Obama-Modi speeches of not so long ago.

The long and short of it is, that Trump has nothing against Modi. He certainly respects him---if he respects anyone. He may even like our Prime Minister, But Trump dislikes anyone from our part of the world. He likes aesthetic things. I believe he has quite a collection of artefacts. He likes people from the western side of the world. He likes white skin. He likes blonde hair. He feels more at home with it. He wants to build up his vote banks with his own kind. That is the white variety. His attitude is now with sure footed agility, infiltrating the white masses—the white-collar worker, the daily wage earner, and yes the upper echelons. It is bound to. This is human nature we are talking about. Would Sonia Gandhi have made it to the top of the Congress pile if she were not the ‘great white queen’? We Indians are racists too—in our own sweet way. 

Ipsita Roy Chakraverti

I also find it very startling to see how Indians cling on to their so called western identities, no matter how much they are insulted, humiliated and finally killed. There have been so many hate crimes in the past few months but Indians choose to ignore them, thinking that they will not be next. They find excuses like ‘it’s a global market’, ‘we have a right to be here’, and take out protest marches, and the next day Trump’s regime again kicks out a few more Indians. They lose their jobs but are willing to subsist on dole. One NRI kept on saying, ‘this is my second home’. Trump does not agree at all.

So, what I’m left with thinking is that job or no job, Indians save your self-respect and come back. Or go somewhere else, if they’ll have you. But don’t hang around where you are not wanted. The whites shrink away when they see you. Your children are needled at school and isolated. I have heard it said by Indian friends visiting India---‘’Oh they stay in their own group and we stay in our’s.’’  Those are the saddest words I have ever heard. Why should Indians be treated like outcastes and lepers? Pick up your pride if any remains. 

Elder Sister & Her Filmy Darlings

Elder Sister & Her Filmy Darlings

Of late, Tollywood actors have been in the news for all the wrong reasons. But then can one expect anything more from them? I had the misfortune to be drawn into a tele-film and one or two TV serial episodes in order to play myself when my own stories were being filmed and what I saw from close quarters was really sad. Barring a very few our Tollywood film population is a lot one tries to avoid. They bore one with their lack of grey matter and at the same time they frighten one with their inordinate ambitions and greed. They’ll do anything to get a role, sign a contract, make more money or put down a rival actor or actress.

Unfortunately they feel a Wiccan can help them achieve any or all of their goals.  They pursue me---sometimes openly and more often with wile and guile so that their rivals won’t get wind of it. These days when one of the breed phones me---I airily say, ‘wrong number’. I really can’t take it anymore!

What amazes me is how and why a certain lady chief minister pampers them and molly coddles them. At important political rallies they look very sweet, the little, or not so little poppets, sitting prettily on the stage while the chief minister strides around, flapping a white shawl, looking on with pride at the dollies---both male and female. They touch her feet. When asked to, they sing. Elder sister holds hands with them and sways to the music. Sometimes one of them even kisses her on the top of her head and she blushes purple. I believe they draw in the crowds. But does she need them so much? Where’s her own confidence? Can’t she and her own team bring on the masses without the Tollywood Barbies? 

The saddest sight is at Delhi and the Parliament. These poor mites can’t speak a word. They need direction, my lovelies. Direction. You see they had been given tickets to contest the General Elections and due to Bengal’s misfortune, they won a seat to Parliament. But what happens next? They get nice little quarters on South Avenue, they get their substantial salaries but-----they can’t pronounce a word when it comes to bringing up an issue or representing their state. After all, there is no director here, saying  ‘’Action’’  and ‘’Cut’’. These players and performers from the Tollywood entertainment world cut  pathetic figures in Delhi. Poor things. But I’d say they’ve been shoved into this predicament by their mentor, and elder sister in Kolkata. Maybe she felt they would be easier to handle having very little matter up in the head---but is this good for Bengal? We are being laughed at. Isn’t it bad enough that the lady CM is called ‘mad’? Goodbye to the good name we once had for being the intellectuals of the land.

I just remembered a well-known make-up artist once said recently that it’s hard to make the dollies look intelligent. It’s well nigh impossible. Won’t elder sister help? One request. That’s all. Don’t send them to Delhi. I blush for them.

Tears and Tantrums Over the Sex Cocktail

Tears and Tantrums Over the Sex Cocktail

My last blog dealt with the tamasha which goes on over the sex cocktail in our present day society. What I wrote obviously hit many a raw nerve for what tears and tantrums there followed, my lovelies. Some who thought they were being targeted went into depression. Now, now, you must know I’m not an unkind person but it’s like this. I am fond of so many of you as individuals. But you can’t expect me to be fond of your way of life. That has to be my decision and attitude. So many of you are talented, intelligent, creative young men and women. I admire your talent. Not your sexual orientation.

The late Rituparno Ghosh used to confide so many of his problems regarding his way of life. He was unhappy about the route his life was taking. He was devoted to me and I was truly fond of him. But I still feel that being gay did not work for him. I think Indroneel Mukherjee is a vastly creative designer and an extremely witty conversationalist. But Indroneel should not take it amiss if I cannot follow his attitudes regarding gender. At one time a young Tollywood actress crossed my Wiccan path and wanted me to teach her. She was acting in my serial Parapaar on ETV Bangla. She is talented and a lovely young woman. She confided in me about her orientation. I taught her the Wiccan tenets for awhile but I realized  that Wicca was not for her. She could never be a Wiccan. I asked her to move on. Also I felt it was my duty to my other students to keep our Brigade homophobic as it is meant to be.  

Ipsita Roy Chakraverti

In the course of my life and work  I have come across other young men and women, gay and lesbian.  They respect me and I am always happy to see them. But it has to end there. I may teach them a thing or two about Wicca but I cannot accept them as long term students.  Yes, I am homophobic.  The thought of a same-sex sexual relationship is unacceptable to me. Wicca believes in natural bonds. Wicca believes in Nature. A gay or lesbian relationship is unnatural.

The LGBT general cries itself hoarse that gays are born not made. That may be true. But in that case keep yourselves to yourselves. Make your own community. Do not intrude into the straight and homophobic world. I have often heard them claim that their way of thinking has a lot in common with Wicca. Heaven forbid! Wicca believes in straight relationships, it believes in being alone if need be. It believes in supremacy of spirit and mind. The body comes a second or third. Wicca believes in emotional  and intellectual bonding. Not in the LGBT cocktail of the sexes.

A Circus of Genders

A Circus of Genders

Yes, I mean it. Seriously. Have you stopped to consider which of the many genders you belong to? Take your pick. What will be your pleasure? Like wine or whisky. I know and am quite aware of the fact that different sexual orientations have been around in the past. Well known people in history, and even in more recent times, from all walks of life have had same- sex liaisons and attachments and got on with life. But that’s just what I mean. They were attachments. Two people bonded irrespective of sex. Perhaps one can even claim that they had spiritual connections. The mind and emotions played a part.

 What I see around me these days is a circus of genders. Not very long ago, homosexuals were not called ‘gay’ as they are now. They accepted their tag of ‘queer’. I think that word said it all. It’s such a pity that the lovely word ‘gay’ which can raise thoughts of happiness and being carefree should be applied to them. In the past, people sniggered a bit when they saw two men walking down the street together---maybe arm in arm. But that was their business---and as I said maybe they had a lot in common. Nowadays, as I look around me I find it’s a fad----perhaps a queer one, but it’s a way of attracting notice. It’s a way of stating that you’re ‘different’ from the chap on the street.

Ipsita Roy Chakraverti

A bright young man once told me that he had turned ‘gay’ ever since he discovered that his boss was that way. The problem arose when his rich girlfriend ditched him. He was willing to please both but she objected. I asked him what sex he really was. My lovelies, that’s a darned awkward question to ask but he wanted my advice. His answer after a bit of thought, was that he felt he was bisexual! My. My. Isn’t one greedy? Swinging both ways. He said his being ‘gay’’ had paid dividends at office. But when he told his girl, she blew her lid. She asked him how he would like it if she ’made out’ with another girl. He said he wouldn’t mind it since society was changing. Also, he said he wouldn’t mind  it if it helped in the rat race. How disgusting can one be!

This LGBT movement we spend so much time acclaiming today, is just another way of pandering to aberrations of the mind. We have forgotten the exhilaration which comes from mind and spirit. We seek distorted thrills from unnatural acts of the body. Why has this phenomenon escalated? Maybe our society, especially Indian society has become broken into units. People are isolated one from the other. If somebody is ill or even passes away in a flat, the neighbours are unaware or don’t care. It’s a mad race for money and success. People are lonely. Strange psychological twists of mind arise.  If being queer brings a bit of company---so be it. It is also an inexpensive way of life. Marriage and a family mean money and responsibility.

Please understand. I’m not against any gender. After all, in today’s world surgeons are turning men into women and the other way around. Then they get married. It’s just that I’d feel a bit weird if a ’transformed’ individual sat close to me. Do I sound racist? I’m not. By the way, a well-known film director once asked me if all Wiccans were ‘asexual’. I guess that means we don’t give that much importance to sex. We’re cold? No, it’s not that my dear. It’s just that we tread the straight and narrow.

The Return of Lover Boy

The Return of Lover Boy

Countless times forlorn looking women have begged and demanded my time for a sane bit of advice. Should they take back an errant boyfriend or husband, who has wandered, strayed, had quite a rollicking time with a few dozen ’other women‘ and then returned home to a patiently waiting girlfriend or wife after the games have gone against them or have become too demanding on body and purse? What would be the right and wise thing to do? Should they forgive and forget? What would a Wiccan do, these poor women ask?

Ipsita Roy Chakraverti

My dears, I tell them, a Wiccan would not have got herself in that spot in the first place. No man ever strays from a Wiccan woman. A Wiccan woman makes sure of that! But be that as it may, my advice in this case of the deserted wife would be-----do not take him back. Let him suffer and stew. Decide what to do with him in your own time, in your own way. Also to be considered is, has he been up to this kind of philandering very often? 

If you remember, I wrote in my book, ‘Beloved Witch’--
"When you fall once I say it is God’s carelessness. When you fall twice, you should have been more careful. When it happens again, you belong to neither darkness nor light."

So my lovelies, has he made a habit of this? Flirting and sleeping around? And then, he expects you to take him back? Perish the thought. The answer is no. You’ll be much happier and richer without him. Don’t forget the alimony. Don’t be a birdbrain and say you want nothing from him. Ofcourse you do. You want money from the louse, for creating all this heartache and humiliation for you. Pinch him where it hurts.

A faithless husband or boyfriend will never change. It’s in his genes quite likely. It’s a part of his trying to be one up on you. Somewhere he may have a complex that you are much better than him---and in all likelihood you are. Or he may just have a gigantic libido which can’t keep away from women…… in which case the sooner you drop him the better.

In the old days of America, remember the case of the Clintons? Bill, Hillary and Monica? After all that happened and the salacious details, Hillary took Bill back. That was a wrong move. If she had played it smart she would have been the U.S. President today. That would have shown guts. 

Love Spells for the Mature Woman

Love Spells for the Mature Woman

One sees face creams and lotions advertised for the ‘mature’ woman. They promise to bring back that youthful glow and tautness. I doubt if they can but there’s no harm in trying and hope is a good feeling to nurture. But love for the mature woman? Well, my lovelies, that’s what the creams and lotions were for in the first place. Or didn’t you guess? She’ll look so good that the desired male will crawl into her clutches. And now for the love spell !

I’ve often written tongue in cheek about love spells in my books—waiting to see the reactions. I keep hoping the fair sex will show empowerment and laugh the spells away, push them to one side and sneer at my impudence.
But alas! They don’t. They fall hook, line and sinker into the trap.
I can understand it when the pyts---that’s the pretty young things, the foolish little hopefuls,  pine for lost boy friends and yearn for the no-gooder who has ditched them. After all, give the young things time to learn and surely one day they will grow up.

But what about the older, experienced, much married matron who decides to have a secret fling and wants love spells from me? She’ll sidle up to me at some public event  and whisper to me how much she admires me and my books. She’ll talk of the depth and truth in what I say. And then, after a few false starts she’ll dive into the subject she has been hiding in her ample bosom. Love spells! Can she see me privately? Can I provide her with some? I tell her as kindly as is possible for me, that I don’t really work with love spells-----leave alone provide them. I don’t believe in love spells or in other spells for that matter. Yes, sounds and words and certain juxtapositions of these have been used as mantras and chants from very ancient times---but that is a different matter altogether. But a few lines of rhyme strung together will not bring the desired one. Inner strength is what she should strive for. Alas! She refuses to believe me. She thinks I want to keep the goodies for myself. She is obviously desperate. I turn away to talk to someone else and she walks away in a huff.

Tells one a lot about the emancipated Indian woman. Where is her independence? Her backbone? Does she still depend on what I consider hocus-pocus to bring her what she considers desirable? Or is our society picking up the wrong values from the west? Family life is no longer based on values. It’s a plastic, cosmetic based world out there. The inner beauty has vanished. No longer needed. It’s a pity.