Category Archives: NRI’s / PIO’s

A Doctor’s Quest

Education, NRI's / PIO's, Records, All, Science & Technology, World Opinion

Since when did you want to become a doctor? Since I was a child in Chittagong. My father wanted my elder brother, whose schooling was being taken care of by a well-to-do family, to be a doctor but I too dreamed of becoming one.

But you weren’t even going to school… Yes, while my friends attended school, I used to sell fruit in the market but I made sure I progressed too. When they were back, I’d take their class notes and copy them. This went on till I was 13 or 14, when I became a tutor to some four- and five-year-olds and could pay the fees. So, I managed to go to school in classes IX and X and did well in matriculation. It got me a scholarship and took care of my Class XI and XII fees. I continued to be a tutor, and that was the time I began to believe that I could become a doctor. Though I had good results in the intermediate exams too and was eligible, I was told it wasn’t possible to get into medical studies in Chittagong, in what used to be East Pakistan.

And you decided to come to Kolkata… That the standard of education was much higher in India was motivation too. I arrived in 1955, all but penniless and armed with a letter from Mrs Nellie Sengupta and permission to stay at the zamindar’s Kolkata home for a few days. I discovered that Mrs Sengupta’s contact had fallen on bad times and was saddled with graver problems than mine. That’s when my struggles began. I went from one medical college to another but without any success. One day, overwhelmed by a sense of hopelessness, I was at College Square, when a man sitting on the same bench pulled me into a conversation. He literally dragged me to the famous Sarbadhikari house on Amherst Street and told me to seek an audience with Dr Kanak Chandra Sarbadhikari the next morning. I managed to meet the influential orthopaedic surgeon but he told me that I couldn’t get into a government college because I had no papers. He arranged for me to face the board at National Medical, which was then a private college. The interview went off well and I was in.

But you still had no money… I couldn’t afford hostel fees but managed somehow. Among things I did was carry the stretcher up and down buildings for St John’s Ambulance Brigade. It was hard work but it allowed me to stay at Netaji Bhavan. Later, when I started receiving refugee stipend, I moved to the hostel.

How did you end up in Newcastle? My life has been like a ship with a captain, dragging me from one place to another with the sole aim of making me a good surgeon. I had no resource to get into postgraduate education in Calcutta and the refugee stipend was also stopped. While I was contemplating all this, I fell in love and got married in secret. That was the best thing I did in my life. Leaving her behind at her parents’ place, I went to England in 1961 with very little money and without doing internship. After a month of going from one place to another, I finally landed a job at the Berry General Hospital in Manchester. The one year there got me the registration number, and after drifting from one speciality to another, circumstances had me landing up in the neurosurgery department. Gradually, I grew fascinated by what the neurosurgeons were doing — their fight between life and death, working on the pulsating brain to cure patients. I told myself I should be a surgeon for the most precious part of the body.

So, the struggle continued in England? Yes, it was hard. I had no holidays, working even on weekends to make ends meet for the growing family (son was born in 1963 and daughter in 1965).

How did you stay focused and pursue a high ambition despite poverty and other problems? Struggle has always spurred me to strive harder. I am sure it is largely because of my childhood moorings. In Chittagong, even as my mother somehow kept us alive, my father filled us with teachings of the great souls. They sounded hollow initially but became a source of great strength later. Swami Vivekananda’s words in particular provided the answer whenever I was confronted by doubt and dilemma. Soon, I knew nothing could stop me from achieving my goal.

When did you consider settling in India? The moment I passed FRCS from Edinburgh and England, my wife was keen to come back to India. I too wanted to serve here. It was 1971 by the time I could save enough for plane tickets. However, I couldn’t find a job here and we went back. A second attempt, in 1973, got me a job in Safdarjung Hospital in Delhi but they were only into head injuries. I was doing a much higher level of work. I failed to get a suitable placement and realized a job in India was not for me. I went back and worked harder to try to get a career in England. It was difficult for an Indian doctor to get a consultant’s job there at that time. During this period of despair, I got a call from Dr William Sweet, the famous neurosurgeon of Harvard University. I worked with him at the Mess General Hospital but I did not quite enjoy it and went back to the National Health Service in Newcastle.

You became a world famous surgeon… At that time, the success of aneurysm surgeries was very poor and I decided to take it as a challenge by making it my area of work. I travelled the world at my own expense to get better at it, meeting doctors, writing in publications.

You treated several VIPs. Can you tell us about it? On one occasion, in the mid-80s, I received a call from the PMO and later came to know it was Gopalkrishna Gandhi (who would later serve as governor of Bengal) at the other end. I had to rush to Delhi to attend to President Venkataraman’s wife, who had a brain haemorrhage. She insisted she be treated in Newcastle. After she had recovered sufficiently, she didn’t want stay in the hospital or move to a hotel. So, she came to stay at our house, and it became a fortress. They were charming people and strict vegetarians, so my wife and I became vegetarian chefs for a while! Soon, VIPs from different parts of the world wanted their loved ones to be treated by me. When I reached retiring age (65) in 2002, the Newcastle hospital named the OT ‘Robin Sengupta Theatre’ in a rare gesture. They wanted me to continue and I finally stopped in December 2012. I am now an emeritus consultant there.

You’ve had other honours as well… In 2003, the BBC did a programme ‘A Day in the Life of Dr Robin Sengupta’, which was a part of their ‘What is best in NHS’ series. Then, because I have trained so many Indian neurosurgeons in England, the Neurosurgery Society of India named me ‘Neurosurgeon of the Millennium’ in 2000. The National Academy of Science made me an honorary fellow. I was really moved when former President APJ Abdul Kalam gave me the Vivekananda Samman at the ‘World Confluence of Humanity, Power & Spirituality’ organized by SREI.

Why did you choose Kolkata for the Institute of Neurosciences Kolkata (I-NK)? Apart from an emotional connect with the city that made me a doctor, I also saw the urgent need for neurological services in eastern India. I had attained a great deal but I asked myself, ‘Should I now slip into a comfortable life in England, enjoying the fruits of my struggle and hard work, while people continued to suffer?’ Friends and relatives tried to dissuade me from such a task but Vivekananda’s words reminded me that it was better to wear out than rust away. My wife and I donated all our resources and so many others helped raise the funds, but I built I-NK with the support of the Kolkata Municipal Corporation and the government of West Bengal. I am looking for a bigger campus to set up facilities for top-level education and research and extend world-class services to more people. I-NK already has an association with the Newcastle hospital and more doctors from around the world will want to work here. There is no dearth of cases here. I am hoping the state government will join in this effort and we’ll do wonders.

What have you learnt and unlearnt in these 15 years of I-NK? I learnt that handling patients and their relatives here is a different art. In the West, they want to know the truth. Patients too want it, even if means asking ‘Doc, how long do I have?’ Here, not only will relatives insist that you not tell the patient, they often don’t want the truth themselves. All they want are false assurances.

What do you see when you look back? I see my struggle but also the sacrifices of people around me, particularly those of my family. The struggle may have been tasteless and painful at that time, but it’s like vintage wine now. That’s what time does. When I lost my only son, who too was studying medicine, in an accident in 1983, I was overcome by a sense of guilt at not having spent enough time with my family as I chased my goal. I still do surgery; it seems I’ll never be able to rest. There’s still so much left to do.

source: http://www.timesofindia.indiatimes.com / The Times of India / Home> City> Kolkata / by Arup Chatterjee & Debasish Konar, TNN / October 17th, 2014

Xavier’s alumni shares expansion vision

Education, Leaders, NRI's / PIO's, Records, All, World Opinion

Kolkata :

This year’s Beyond Boundaries — the annual global convention of St Xavier’s College — will reach out to its global alumni to collect funds to aid the college’s ambitious expansion plans.

The convention is slated to be held at Melbourne between October 10 and 12.

“In the last three years, we have partially reached our vision,” said Fr Felix Raj, the college principal. “The Raghavpur campus, which is the rural face of St Xavier’s College, has benefited around 126 students who have already enrolled in various courses started on the campus. In Raghavpur, we have been able to begin three courses at the moment — BCom honours, Bengali Honours and BA (general) courses. We will soon open history honours and political science honours on the same campus. We are also planning to start a community college and offer certificate and diploma courses along with degree courses on vocational subjects. Primarily, we are aiming to start vocational subjects like mechanics, agriculture, fisheries and nursing, among others. We will also take care of placements,” he added.

Fr Raj spoke about the college’s further plans of expansion. “By 2017, a communication campus is set to be unveiled at the EM Bypass plot which St Xavier’s College has acquired behind the Satyajit Ray Film and Television Institute (SRFTI). The campus will offer graduation and postgraduation courses in journalism, mass communications, videography, multimedia and animation. The Educational Multimedia Research Centre (EMMRC), which is now at Park Circus and run by the college, will be shifted to the same campus,” he said.

The St Xavier’s College (Calcutta) Alumni Association (SXCCAA) plays a vital role in the college’s expansion process, said Firdausul Hasan, secretary of the association. “Every year, we have a mission and this year it is raising funds to aid expansion. The Rajarhat campus of the college, inaugurated by CM Mamata Banerjee last year, will also host an engineering college and the convention will help us realise Father Felix Raj’s vision 2020, which is our mission for this global convention,” Hasan added.

“This vision will only be possible with the alumni’s help. They have always stood by us. As president of SXCCAA, I am confident that the vision will be realised because of the association’s support,” said Fr Raj.

source: http://www.timesofindia.indiatimes.com / The Times of India / Home> City> Kolkata> TNN / October 01st, 2014

Couple’s mati-manush tale with roots in Kentucky and shoots in Calcutta farm

Agriculture, Green Initiatives / Environment, Nature, NRI's / PIO's

AparjitaKOLKATA28sept2014

Kentucky, 2005: Aparajita Sengupta, a 25-year-old English literature student doing her PhD in Indian cinema, and Debal Mazumder, a 31-year-old senior software developer, rush out of their Kentucky home with a cup of cereal each in their hands, she to her university and he to his software firm. Weekends are a blur, driving around town, visiting malls and meeting friends over drinks at a pub.

Calcutta, 2013: Aparajita and Debal are eight years older and in a different time zone, living a very different life. They have ditched their formal shoes to slip into work chappals. Instead of shopping and pubbing on weekends, they shovel manure and harvest crops. Meals are no longer about takeaways but growing food using organic and biodynamic methods. In their farm, called Smell of the Earth, said to be the first of its kind in the country!

“I am a full-time farmer now!” exclaims Aparajita, 33, her broad smile and sickle in perfect sync.

She is standing in an 11-bigha community-supported agriculture (CSA) farm in Thakurpukur on the southern fringes of Calcutta. “I join in the digging and harvesting but not the tilling because that requires a bullock and a plough, which I still don’t know how to handle,” she says, almost apologetically.

This rare mati-manush tale, with roots in Kentucky and shoots in Calcutta, began with Aparajita and Debal starting their life together in the US like any other young immigrant couple vying for their own small piece of the so-called American dream. Then something happened. Not professional instability, illness or a family crisis. Just a simple realisation that the food they were eating was “poison”.

“We were drawn to food-related issues in the US and the growing influence of GMO (genetically modified organisms) back home. It scared us that the rate of disease, birth defects, cancer and allergies related to food production was so high,” says Debal, 39, who continues to work as a software developer for his American employer while pursuing his other dream.

ArgiKOLKATA28sept2014

We had witnessed the beginning of farmers’ markets and CSA in the US, a movement that has gained unprecedented momentum in the last eight years. But India was going in the reverse direction and we felt the need to come back and do our bit in spreading awareness, starting with Calcutta’s urban population.”

And so, in the summer of 2011, the couple left their adopted American way of life to return to the chaos of Calcutta. “When we left Kentucky, we weren’t sure we would be able to start immediately because we knew we wouldn’t be able to afford land sufficient for farming in Calcutta. Our first aim was to raise consciousness among middle-class families by writing articles or filming documentaries,” says Debal.

An opportunity came knocking when a friend offered a family-owned plot in Thakurpukur, which they happily “borrowed” through a land-share agreement. In a matter of months, Debal and Aparajita’s Smell of the Earth farm had found 26 members, including software and advertising professionals, college professors, an accountant, a banker and a photographer. They pay Rs 2,000 each for organic vegetables every month.

The farm, over an hour’s drive from the couple’s Santoshpur home, is not your usual faux rural setting meant for weekend outings. It is a plot of land meant for agriculture and Debal and Aparajita intend to keep it that way.

Smell of the Earth had its first harvest in January with fresh leafy greens, radish, peas and cauliflower. Coming up are cabbage, coriander, French beans, tomato, pumpkin, brinjal, bitter gourd, potato, onion and chillies.

“Ours is a low-tech, low-energy and low-input poly and multi-cropping farm. We do inter-cropping instead of using pesticides to avoid disturbing the biodynamics. We use pond water and not ground water, and plan to make a transition to solar power,” says Aparajita.

She and Debal are quick to dispel the notion that they are in it for the money. “We don’t want to grow as a farm or expand as a business. What we would like to see grow is the idea. We want more people to look at our model and replicate it so that there can be a large network of such communities. If 30 more families were doing what we are doing, we could move towards a sustainable environment of healthy people,” Debal says.

What makes the couple happy is the enthusiasm of friends, colleagues and neighbours about their initiative. “When they came and saw the farm and attended meetings, they realised that this wasn’t just about paying Rs 2,000 for organic vegetables every month but about participation, building a community and protecting the ecosystem. The vegetables come as a bonus, as one of our members puts it,” says Aparajita.

The CSA model had started in Germany in the 1960s and was adopted by Japan before it made inroads into North America two decades later. But it was only in the new millennium that the movement gained momentum in the face of environmental awareness and food scandals in the US. Today, there are more than 7,000 CSA farms in the US and around 2,000 in Central and Eastern Europe, but just about a hundred in Asia.

A typical CSA farm comprises a community of individuals who pledge their support to an urban farm operation where the growers and consumers share the risks and benefits of food production using organic and biodynamic methods. In exchange for a monthly membership fee and a little labour during harvest, members receive shares from the farm’s bounty throughout the growing season, delivered every week.

At the Thakurpukur farm, Wednesdays and Fridays are reserved for delivery, when Aparajita fills organic cotton bags with the harvested veggies and ferries them across the city to members’ homes.

All other days, too, Aparajita is busy at the farm, having given up a post-grad teaching stint. She helps with the work and planning for the season with Manoranjan, a local farmer who has been appointed caretaker. Debal joins in on Sundays with the couple’s three-year-old daughter Kulfi.

Once a month, the members go on farm visits and assemble at the farmer couple’s Santoshpur home to watch documentaries and share books. “We keep updating our Facebook page [Smell of the Earth] with pictures of the farm and share tips and recipes on vegetables growing for the season,” says Debal.

“We recently had a wonderful experience: a two-week permaculture course [the development of agricultural ecosystems intended to be sustainable and self-sufficient] in a small village near Darjeeling. It’s still a learning process because what did we know about farming?” adds Aparajita.

Back in 2000, Jadavpur University alumnus Debal couldn’t see beyond the career that awaited him in Kentucky as a software developer, while ex-Presidencian Aparajita left Calcutta four years later to do her PhD at the University of Kentucky. It was in the US that they met, fell in love and got married.

“When we had left India we were looking at diverse opportunities of building our careers and starting a new life. We were quite unclear if we would ever come back. We bought a house, a car, had our daughter there, but once this issue started affecting us, we were convinced that we wanted to come back,” recalls Aparajita.

“We had never really been conscious about what we were eating until we started getting bothered by the taste of vegetables, the idea of processed food and TV dinners that simply go into your microwave. Onions were the size of papaya,” says Aparajita. “And chicken tasted like soap,” quips Debal.

A chance meeting with an Indian couple growing organic food helped them understand the difference between what they were eating and how nature meant food to be. “We borrowed some of their books, watched movies and visited websites they recommended. We started buying our grocery from organic food chains even though it cost us three times as much before exploring food co-operatives and farmer’s markets,” says Aparajita.

Joining a CSA farm at Lexington in Kentucky — set up by Erik Walles, “an American scientist who gave it all up to start farming” — sealed the dream Aparajita and Debal are now chasing.

WHO ARE THEY?

Aparajita Sengupta, 33, and Debal Mazumder, 39. They gave up their life in Kentucky to come back to Calcutta in 2011 and start a community-supported agriculture (CSA) farm in Thakurpukur, called Smell of the Earth.

WHAT IS A CSA FARM?

A farm comprising a community of individuals who pledge their support to an urban farm operation where food is produced using organic and biodynamic methods.

WHAT ABOUT SMELL OF THE EARTH?

Aparajita and Debal’s farm has 26 members who pay Rs 2,000 each for organic vegetables every month and participate in the movement. Its first harvest in January comprised fresh leafy greens, radish, peas and cauliflower. Coming up are cabbage, coriander, French beans, tomato, pumpkin, brinjal, bitter gourd, potato, onion and chillies.

source: http://www.telegraphindia.com / The Telegraph, Calcutta / Front Page> Calcutta> Story / by Mohua Das / Saturday – March 02nd, 2013

Barcelona musician joins gypsy and Baul music

Arts, Culture & Entertainment, NRI's / PIO's, World Opinion

Kolkata :

He was born and brought up in Belgrade by his Bengali mother and Serbian father. He got his degrees, including a Masters, in Austria, where he spent eight-odd years. But with a name like Robindro, he could not escape music.

Barcelona Gipsy Klezmer Orchestra’s clarinet player-scholar Robindro Nikolic is in town, holding workshops and bringing the worlds of gypsies and bauls together.

“My mother, Manjula Mukherjee had gone to Europe with her parents who were diplomats based in Yugoslavia. She studied medicine, but later took up Ayurveda. She met my father, who is a Serbian, at Belgrade,” Robindro narrated in his accent.

He further explained what brought him to Kolkata for the first time, four years ago.

“In Switzerland in 2007, I was performing with Zubin Mehta when I met Pandit Tanmoy Bose, who was collaborating with Anushka Shankar. We exchanged numbers, spoke about music. He urged me to make my own music as I was part of a huge orchestra. He really inspired me. In 2010, I came to Kolkata, where Bose introduced me to many people — musicians like guitarist Bodhisattwa Ghosh with whom I jammed at Someplace Else, and the cultural organization Banglanatak. I was keen to research on music medicine and music therapy, so Bose’s wife, Bonnya, who was with ITC Sangeet Research Academy at the time, introduced me to their archive where I spent considerable time,” he told TOI on Wednesday.

“Many people think my name is Brazilian or Portuguese. But I tell them no, it’s Bengali,” he said.

When prodded on his association with Indian music, he said, “I have researched on the broad science of Indian ragas and music therapy in India. But this is the first time I’m having a musical exchange with Bengal folk musicians. We found many similarities between the folk forms of the two worlds. ‘Doina’, a Jewish folk form from East Europe, is very similar to Baul, as my fellow musicians pointed out. It’s about spirituality and not religion. I’m also keen on exploring the Bengal wind instruments.”

But Baul is not a “new love” for him, he said. “When I was little my mother would travel back home and get, among others, Baul music recordings for me.”

Singer Dipanwita Acharya, who was part of the workshop, said, “It was a wonderful experience. And I’m so happy to learn about ‘Doina’. So many similarities with our Baul music and the storyline of these music forms are the same globally.”

Percussionist Sandip Bag, who played ‘dubuka’, an instrument from Middle East, at the workshop, said the rhythms Robindro played were quite different, and this was a refreshing experience.

Arpan Thakur Chakraborty, a guitarist, added, “This was very helpful for me. I learnt a lot about scale variation and progression while playing ‘jazz manouche’ or gypsy jazz with him.”

source: http://www.timesofindia.indiatimes.com / The Times of India / Home> City> Kolkata / by Shounak Ghosal, TNN / September 25th, 2014

An indentured worker’s journey

Arts, Culture & Entertainment, NRI's / PIO's, Records, All, Travel, World Opinion

This new contribution to diaspora studies maps a woman’s tumultuous passage from India to West Indies

COOLIE WOMAN — The Odyssey of Indenture: Gaiutra Bahadur; Hachette Book Publishing India Pvt. Ltd., 4th & 5th Floors, Corporate Centre, Sector 44, Gurgaon-122003. Rs. 599.
COOLIE WOMAN — The Odyssey of Indenture: Gaiutra Bahadur; Hachette Book Publishing India Pvt. Ltd., 4th & 5th Floors, Corporate Centre, Sector 44, Gurgaon-122003. Rs. 599.

Usha V.T

Gaiutra Bahadur’s Coolie Woman is an attempt to recreate the journey of an indentured woman labourer — a woman from India —who travelled to the West Indies and eventually to the United States. Diaspora studies have often pointed out that a wide array of social and economic deprivations drove villagers from their homes to travel to faraway lands. And as this author reiterates, the practice of imperial capitalism destroyed traditional livelihoods, while at the same time colonialism created new routes for moving across the subcontinent, in several guises.

The author justifies the use of the term coolie , despite its derogatory connotations, at the very outset. In fact, she devotes a whole chapter to a discussion of the term and its use in the current context. “As it turns out, mystery darkened the lives of many women who left India as coolies. The hind of scandal was communal. Some historians have called indenture “ a new form of slavery,”

In many ways it was: once in the sugar colonies, coolies suffered under a repressive legal system that regularly convicted more than a fifth of them as criminals, subject to prison for mere labor violations, which were often the unjust allegations of exploitative overseers.”

What makes the work interesting is the autobiographical nature of the narrative. The protagonist is the author’s great grandmother Sujaria, whose life and adventures are the occasion to map the tumultuous journey of the woman from her home in India to the West Indies. With the help of historical records, legal documents and tales of indenture, Gaiutra Bahadur attempts to recreate her grandmother’s historic journey. She says: “What I found was a revelation. I once thought that my great grandmother must have been an exception .” And a little later we read: “In which category of recruit did my great grandmother fall? Who was she? Displaced peasant, run away wife, kidnap victim, Vaishnavite pilgrim or widow? Was she prostitute…”

The sexuality of the women and her exploitation in terms of her body both during the journey to the new land as well as in her survival in the land of her slavery through sexual negotiation takes prime place in some of the seminal chapters of the book. They were exploited physically and their reputations were then “dismembered”. This was done systematically both by the men who exploited them as well as by the men who had no sexual stake in the women. Though it was seen that gender imbalance caused sexual chaos in the colonies among the indentured labourers and their functionaries, the women were made to suffer not merely physical agony but mental torture through character assassination. Some of the comments and statements that Gaiutra cites are from public figures held usually in high regard: Even men without a sexual stake in the women cut them to pieces. The Reverend C.F Andrews, indenture’s greatest critic, rued the women he met in Fiji. “The Hindu woman in this country” he reported, “is like a rudderless vessel with its masts broken being whirled down the rapids of a great river without any controlling hand. She passes from one man to another and has lost even the sense of shame in doing so ”.

Of course none of the opinionated colonisers bother to talk to the women or ask for their version of the reality they face on an everyday basis for survival. Yet they make their judgements on the character of the women vocal and the woman as always is silenced and humbled for circumstances beyond her control.

In 1906, the author’s great grandmother and her new born arrived at Rose Hall Plantation, on Canje Creek. She did no field work there as the narrator informs us… “Dey send her, and she cyaan make it in the field, because her feet was soft …” Instead Sujaria was assigned to be a child minder. This was the job that Jamni, the woman at the edges of the Nonpareil uprising, either as kept woman or rape victim, reportedly had. And this was the job that my great grandmother was given. Perhaps this was because she had a baby to support alone and her caste background had made her useless in the fields. Or perhaps, she possessed a pretty woman’s advantage. (p 148)

Gaiutra explains how caste class and gender are factors that develop new meaning as the woman moves from her own land through along, perilous journey into a new world where her survival depends on her capacity to negotiate with the multiple forces that are decisive to her existence. Her sex, though her weakness, now becomes a major factor that she can utilise for negotiating her survival. In a way of life, that is exploitative, survival become the centre of the labourer’s existence and the author explains how it is achieved in individual cases.

The narrative is supported with documents such as legal references, captains’ or doctor’s logbooks from the ships, police records, administrative reports, photographs etc.

These neglected narratives are footnotes to colonial history and women’s history in particular. It becomes her middle passage:

middle-passaged

passing

beneath the coloring of

desire

in the enemy’s eye

a scatter of worlds and bro

ken wishes

in shiva’s unending dance

(Arnold Itwaru, “We Have

Survived”)

With an astute eye for detail Gaiutra Bahadur, trained as a journalist, unearths sumptuous information buried in documents and records hitherto less-explored areas pertaining to women in indentured labour amounting to sexual slavery, and the odyssey of indenture is presented in a nonchalant manner. However having said that, the documentary nature of the work makes it a little tedious and uninteresting at times over several pages.

The author’s self-conscious struggle to motivate the reader to share individual experiences — albeit factual, in places slipping into a fictional style — is sometimes a bit laborious and too obvious. Gaiutra Bahadur’s Coolie Woman traces the story of how one woman’s experience represents an entire spectrum of woman’s experience: the book is a veritable source book for further research in diaspora studies.

source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Features> Book Review / by Usha V.T / September 16th, 2014

Neel Mukherjee shortlisted for 2014 Man Booker prize

Arts, Culture & Entertainment, NRI's / PIO's, Records, All, World Opinion
Mukherjee was the only Indian-origin author to be longlisted earlier this year.
Mukherjee was the only Indian-origin author to be longlisted earlier this year.

London:

Kolkata-born British author Neel Mukherjee’s latest novel The Lives of Others, set in troubled Bengal of the 1960s and centres around a dysfunctional family, has been shortlisted for the prestigious Booker Prize 2014, in its debut as a global literary award.

Mukherjee, who studied at Oxford and Cambridge, was also the only Indian-origin author to be longlisted earlier this year, the first time the prestigious literary award opened up for anyone writing in English regardless of nationality.

“We are delighted to announce our international shortlist. As the Man Booker Prize expands its borders, these six exceptional books take the reader on journeys around the world, between the UK, New York, Thailand, Italy, Calcutta and times past, present and future,” said A C Grayling, chair of the 2014 judging panel.

“We had a lengthy and intensive debate to whittle the list down to these six. It is a strong, thought-provoking shortlist which we believe demonstrates the wonderful depth and range of contemporary fiction in English,” he added.

Mukherjee, now a British citizen, has been selected for his second novel published in May this year. The book is based in Kolkata and centres around a dysfunctional Ghosh family in the 1960s.

Mukherjee reviews fiction for the Times and the Sunday Telegraph and his first novel, A Life Apart was a joint winner of the Vodafone-Crossword Award in India.

The others on the shortlist include American authors Joshua Ferris for To Rise Again at a Decent Hour and Karen Joy Fowler for We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves; Australian Richard Flanagan for The Narrow Road to the Deep North; and British authors Howard Jacobson for J and Ali Smith for How to be Both.

Previously, the prize was open only to authors from the UK and Commonwealth, Republic of Ireland and Zimbabwe. For the first time in its 46-year history, the 50,000-pound prize has been opened up to writers of any nationality, writing originally in English and published in the UK.

source: http://www.deccanchronicle.com / Deccan Chronicle / Home Lifestyle> Books-Art / PTI / September 09th, 2014

Biz guru’s mantra for students

Business & Economy, Education, Leaders, NRI's / PIO's, World Opinion
Kunal Banerji at the interactive session. (Anup Bhattacharya)
Kunal Banerji at the interactive session. (Anup Bhattacharya)

Kunal Banerji, an associate professor of management at Eastern Michigan University and a St. Xavier’s alumni, addressed students of JD Birla Institute’s management department on quality management.

The management guru dwelled upon the three cornerstones of business excellence — quality, profitability and productivity — at an interactive session organised by the Calcutta Management Association, in association with The Telegraph, on August 29.

He peppered his lecture with topics ranging from compensation and appraisal to use of suggestion systems and continuous improvement efforts to illustrate why it’s important to improve product quality, or how to do it more effectively, in the service sector.

Banerji drew from his Total Quality Management and Business Excellence, a research paper he co-authored with David E. Gundersen and Ravi S. Behara, to answer most of the questions.

He explained how quality is more perceptual than real. “Till a point of time all foreign goods were considered to be of the best quality… that is how our psyche was built. After 1992 (post-liberalisation of the economy), this perception of quality changed.”

On behalf of the CMA, its executive committee member Asok K. Banerjee thanked Banerji for discussing his research extensively with the students. “We had a great audience and a wonderful ambience.”

Banerji said: “It was a mixed crowd and that is always very interesting. Honestly, I didn’t expect such a big crowd. I don’t get such a big crowd in the US, probably because of the population rate.”

J.N. Mukhopadhyaya, the director of the JD Birla Institute’s management department, said he was happy that the seminar turned out well.

source: http://www.telegraphindia.com / The Telegraph, Calcutta / Front Page> Calcutta> Story / by A Staff Reporter / Friday – September 05th, 2014

Prince Dwarakanath lies forgotten in a corner of London

Historical Links / Pre-Independence, NRI's / PIO's, Records, All, World Opinion

On August 1, 1846, a treacherous thunderstorm raged through London. ‘Vivid flashes of lightning’ struck, the wind howled, and in a hotel room, very close to Bond Street, a ‘Prince’ died. Dwarakanath Tagore was only 52 when he died in the company of just two members of his vast family — a son and a nephew.

Four days later, they buried him, without ceremony in Kensal Green Cemetery. Among the mourners were his youngest son Narendranath, nephew Nabin Chandra Mukherji, four medical students who had accompanied him on his trip to England and his former partners Major Henderson and William Prinsep. Queen Victoria and Prince Albert — who had welcomed him to their court like ‘an old friend’ just over a year ago — sent four carriages. It was a princely send off.

Whatever may have been his reputation back home, in London Dwarakanath was the darling of fashionable society. He gave lavish parties, dined with royalty in England and France, showered his friends and hosts with expensive gifts and gave generously to charities. He was immensely popular with European ladies and made no attempt to conceal his many ‘friendships’. He even kept a boat on the Thames with a certain Mrs Caroline Norton — a divorced, small-time Victorian poet of some ‘beauty and wit’ — where he hosted the literati of the day from Charles Dickens to WM Thackeray.

It is all a very different picture today. Although, the city that he so loved continues to remain popular with most of his fellow countrymen, not many people come to see him. We took the Bakerloo Line on the Underground, got off at Kensal Green Station, and turned left. It was late September and the trees had started changing colour. Kensal Green is huge — 72 acres in fact — and is one of London’s oldest and most distinguished public burial grounds. It has many celebrated residents from scientists, botanists, actors and royalty — Ingrid Bergman and Freddie Mercury among them.

But just as we walked though the very impressive archway of the main gate, we realised we were quite lost. In the absence of any map or directions it was near impossible to find Dwarakanath. Although I knew what his grave looked like, I had no idea where it was. And there was not a soul in sight. A little later, a group of Americans ambled in for a guided walk with a ‘Friend’ of Kensal Green. And this ‘Friend’ – locals who volunteer their time – showed us the way.

Just yards from the main gate, where we had been rummaging the last half hour, lay Dwarakanath. The ground was a little sunken. The grave, simple and grey, simply said ‘Dwarkanath Tagore of Calcutta’. Obit 1st.

The ‘Friend’ who knew a bit about the man seemed curious in our interest. “Nobody visits him these days. Not even on his anniversary. You would think someone from the Indian High Commission or his fellow Bengalis would come to lay flowers. But, I have seen no one.”

Standing there — a little overgrown and overlooked by numerous other graves of different ages — it is difficult to imagine the life and times of Dwarkanath Tagore, once the ‘most prominent citizen’ of Calcutta and the leading force behind the first joint-stock commercial bank in India, Union Bank. Pioneer, philanthropist and partner in Carr, Tagore and Co, Dwarkanath dabbled in everything from customs, salt, tea, coal and steam navigation to indigo and sugar plantations and opium. A great friend of Rammohun Roy, he was a strong voice behind the anti-Sati movement, freedom of Press in India and women’s education. Never shy of controversy, he was almost the self-styled mayor of Calcutta at one point.

The hotel where he died still stands, although under a different name. Brown’s Hotel on 33, Albermarle Street is now a luxury five-star hotel in Mayfair. A room for a night costs anything between £460 and £3,000 and a Sunday three-course lunch for two will set you back by £100. A stay fit for a ‘Prince’ indeed.

— The author is a former journalist who has worked for British and Indian newspapers. She now works at Bath Spa University

source: http://www.timesofindia.indiatimes.com / The Times of India / Home> India / TNN / August 01st, 2014