Hockey player Keshav Chandra Dutt | Photo Credit: Rajeev Bhatt
He was part India’s historic feat at the 1948 Olympics where they beat home team Britain 4-0 at the Wembley Stadium in London to win the first gold post Independence.
Two-time Olympics gold medallist Keshav Chandra Datt, the last surviving member of the Indian hockey team in the historic 1948 London Games, passed away here early on Wednesday, according to a Hockey Bengal (HB) statement. He was 95.
An HB official said Datt’s last rites would be performed after the arrival of his daughter Anjali from abroad in a few days’ time.
A product of the famous Government College, Lahore — which also produced Olympians like Syed Jaffar, Commander Nandy Singh and Munir Dar — Datt, born in Lahore on December 29, 1925, participated in the 1948 London and 1952 Helsinki Games respectively.
Some claim that he could not take part in his third Olympics, in Melbourne in 1956, due to “professional commitments with Brooke Bond”.
Datt — who migrated to India after the partition and played in Bombay and then in Bengal — was part of the Dhyan Chand-led Indian squad that toured East Africa in 1947. As a half-back, he played in 22 matches and scored two goals.
In 1949, Datt had the honour of playing against hockey wizard Dhyan Chand, who led the Rest of India squad, in two exhibition matches here.
First, Datt was part of the 1948 Olympics squad and in the second he was a member of the Bengal team.
In his autobiography Goal, Dhyan Chand rated Datt as one of the finest half-backs of that time.
Best moments
Defeating host Great Britain 4-0 in the final at the Empire Stadium, Wembley, London, to win Independent India’s first gold in 1948 on the British soil and then thrashing the Netherlands 6-1 four years later in Helsinki to bag the second consecutive Olympic Games title were the finest moments of Datt’s career.
By the age of 26, he had the prized possession of two Olympic gold medals.
He was among the last ones to witness India’s monopoly in the Olympics as it faced some challenge in the 1956 Games where it experienced tight matches — including 1-0 wins over Germany and Pakistan in the semifinals and final respectively.
Datt shone in his club career as well.
“While playing for Calcutta Port Commissioners, he impressed famous actor and Mohun Bagan Hockey secretary of that time, Jahar Ganguly. He joined Mohun Bagan in 1951 to respect the wishes of Ganguly and played till 1960.
“In 1952, Mohun Bagan achieved the first double in hockey when it lifted the Beighton Cup for the first time along with the Calcutta Hockey League (CHL),” the Bagan website said.
Datt won CHL six times and the Beighton Cup three times in his 10-year Bagan career. He was the first non-football sportsperson to be conferred the Mohun Bagan Ratna, in 2019.
Datt represented Punjab (in undivided India), Bombay and Bengal in the National championship.
Badminton player
He was also an accomplished badminton player and was Bengal No.1 of his times.
Datt’s passing away snaps the only living link with Independent India’s first sporting glory.
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Sport> Hockey / by Y.B. Sarangi / Kolkata – July 07th, 2021
The villagers, who previously worked as labourers, are now trained in kutum-katum (handicraft made from twigs and roots), kantha stitching, pottery and wall painting. | Photo Credit: Special Arrangement
By settling there and teaching its people, he has demonstrated how art is capable of rescuing a neglected human settlement.
Two years ago, Kolkata-based artist Mrinal Mandal was so captivated by the charm of a tiny village — close to where West Bengal borders Jharkhand — that he decided to make the hamlet of some 80 people his second home. In doing so, he has demonstrated how art is capable of rescuing a human settlement from neglect and poverty.
Mrinal Mandal | Photo Credit: Special Arrangement
“I have been travelling in search of folk art from the time I graduated from the Government Arts College 20 years ago,” Mr. Mandal, 42, told The Hindu. “In 2018, I chanced upon this village, surrounded by forests, and I immediately took a liking for it. I decided to make it a beautiful village by teaching art to its people.”
Today, the residents of the village — officially called Lalbazar but christened Khwaabgram, or village of dreams, by one of the admirers of the project — earn a decent income by selling paintings and handicraft to tourists, whose increasing presence, in turn, has earned it the attention of the local authorities.
Tourists come to Khwaabgram, about 4 km from Jhargram, not just to buy handicraft but also to take a look at the village itself, where the walls of most houses are now themselves works of art.
“These people are from the Lodha tribe, once outlawed by the British. Traditionally, they are very shy people; if you built a house next to theirs, they would shift elsewhere. It wasn’t easy for me to make friends with them, until I began making drawings related to their life,” said Mr. Mandal, who lives in Jhargram and commutes to Khwaabgram on a daily basis.
Tourists come to Khwaabgram not just to buy handicraft but also to take a look at the village itself, where the walls of most houses are now themselves works of art. | Photo Credit: Special Arrangement
Until he arrived on the scene, the villagers mainly worked as labourers in nearby farms and some of them were small farmers themselves. Today, they are trained in kutum-katum (handicraft made from twigs and roots), kantha stitching, pottery and wall painting.
“All these years, I survived on whatever little I made from farming,” said Sashti Charan Ahir, 46, who, in spite of a physical handicap, is today successful as a kutum-katum artist. An art form introduced by Abanindranath Tagore, it means making use of found objects.
“Every morning, I go out to the forest to collect twigs and branches, then I roam around there for a while to get ideas — should I make a bird today or some animal? People visiting the nearby deer park now often come to our village to take a look and buy our products — that has indeed made our life better,” Mr. Ahir said.
Residents of the village earn a decent income by selling paintings and handicraft to tourists, whose increasing presence, in turn, has earned it the attention of the local authorities. | Photo Credit: Special Arrangement
The public attention has led to improved conditions in the village, and what Mr. Ahir wants now is a school to be built there. “My daughter’s school is on the other side of the forest, and I spend a better part of the day taking her there and bringing her back. A school will really help — I believe they are considering the idea,” he said.
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> News> Cities> Kolkata / by Bishwanath Ghosh / Kolkata – November 30th, 2020
Soumitra Chatterjee. File | Photo Credit: NAGARA GOPAL
The actor, even in his mid-eighties, was not only active but also highly sought-after. Terms like ‘has-been’ or ‘yesteryear’ never applied to him
A piece of information, by itself, is dead wood – like a piece from a jigsaw puzzle – which comes to life only when you collate it with other pieces. Take actor Soumitra Chatterjee’s date of birth, for example. The fact that he was born on January 19, 1935 doesn’t say much about him. But if you place that date against October 1, 2020, when he last reported for a shoot before showing symptoms of COVID-19, you realise he was no ordinary actor but someone who was professionally active even when nearing 86.
Not many lead actors continue to work – or get work – at 86. None actually, if you discount Clint Eastwood, Kirk Douglas, Christopher Plummer and maybe a couple of other names that don’t lend to easy recall. Back home, there was exception in the form of Dev Anand, who continued to work until he died at 88, but by then he was long past his prime and was making those films only to feed his vanity.
But Chatterjee, even in his mid-eighties, was not only active but also highly sought-after. Terms like ‘has-been’ or ‘yesteryear’ never applied to him. Ernest Hemingway once said that no writer ever produced anything worthwhile after winning the Nobel; the same holds true for the Dadasaheb Phalke award in Indian cinema, in the sense that it invariably comes at a time when the awardee’s productive years are spoken of in the past tense. But not for Chatterjee. He got the award in 2012, and ever since then he got only busier by the year. In 2019, he had as many as 15 releases; and in the pandemic-hit 2020, almost as many of his films either released or are lined up for release.
So, how does one define Soumitra Chatterjee?
If you label him as a Satyajit Ray actor – they worked together in 14 films – his knowledgeable fans will instantly point out that he worked with numerous other directors too and that those 14, even though they brought him acclaim, form only a small percentage of the more than 300 films he did during his lifetime. In fact, with the notable exceptions of Ritwik Ghatak (whom Chatterjee claimed to have punched once, during a debate back in the 1960s) and Buddhadeb Dasgupta, he worked with nearly all directors, including Tapan Sinha, Mrinal Sen and Tarun Majumdar.
If you label him as a cinema actor, people will remind you that he did theatre too.
If you label him as an actor, someone or the other is bound to tell you that he was a painter, poet and an activist as well.
If you identify him as Feluda, there will be someone disagreeing: ‘No, he was more popular as Apu.’
If you classify him as a Calcuttan or a Bengali, they will say he was global, decorated twice by the French, with Order of Arts and Letters and with the Legion of Honour.
More an actor than a ‘hero’
But in debate-loving Bengal, one thing remains indisputable: that for several generations of Bengalis, the mention of the word ‘actor’ instantly brought two names to mind, Uttam Kumar and Soumitra Chatterjee. There were the two colossuses. After Kumar, nearly a decade older and far more popular of the two, died at the age of 54 in 1980, Chatterjee became the lone flag-bearer of meaningful Bengali cinema.
Chatterjee was one of those very few Indian actors who, even while playing the lead in commercial movies, was acknowledged more as an actor than a ‘hero’ – a hero being someone one who can jump off a tall building without a scratch and can knock out a dozen bad guys with his bare hands.
While it was only fairly recently that some fresh air swept through Bollywood with the arrival of Irrfan Khan, Ayushmann Khurrana, Nawazuddin Siddiqui and Rajkummar Rao – mainstream actors who could draw crowds even without fight scenes – Chatterjee was all of them rolled into one, right from the black-and-white era. And considering that he was around for 61 long years, almost every Bengali – from nonagenarians down to teenagers – lovingly preserves in mind his or her own image of Chatterjee: the innocent Apu; the charming Amal of Charulata; the daring Feluda; the resolute swimming coach in Kony; the middle-aged man next door; the genial grandfather. His very presence on the screen was assuring: for filmmakers and audiences alike.
His passing is akin to the falling of an ancient tree. But while the tree is gone, its shade remains. It wouldn’t be entirely wrong to say that the trunk of the tree was essentially made of the 14 films he did for Ray. For, one will always wonder how Chatterjee’s career would have fared without Ray. For that matter, one can also wonder how Ray’s films would have fared without Chatterjee.
That’s something Bengal can now debate.
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Entertainment> Movies / by Bishwanath Ghosh / November 15th, 2020
For the first time from Bengal, 4 mountaineers will soon start their expedition to one of the most aesthetic and challenging peaks in the Himalayas—Mt. Ama Dablam. The peak rises 6,856 meters in elevation.
Overcoming the challenges posed by the pandemic, the mountaineers—Satyarup Siddhanta , Malay Mukherjee, Kiran Patra and Debasish Biswas, have already reached Nepal. The climbers left the city to reach Siliguri by train on November 1. They had to follow the stringent COVID guidelines of the Nepal government before leaving for the final expedition.
“We will face the daunting task amid the chilling weather conditions. When we will be scaling the mountain, the temperature is expected to hover around minus 40 degree Celsius mark. The steepness of the peak will be another hurdle that we will have to overcome. If everything goes as per plan, the expected summit will end on November 24 or 25,” said Siddhanta.
Interestingly, Prince of Bahrain will simultaneously take up the expedition along with the Bengali mountaineers. They will be assisted by a team of experienced Sherpas.
The team claimed that chances of frost or blizzard during the summit would be minimum. Rudra Prasad Halder, who works with the state Police, was also expected to join the expedition. However, Halder—who had climbed Mt Everest in 2016—had to stay back for official reasons.
source: http://www.millenniumpost.in / Millennium Post / Home> Kolkata / by MPost / November 03rd, 2020
Saheli Pal an MA English student at Calcutta University, created the image on 6 feet by 4 feet board. She had started her work in mid-August after receiving the guidelines from the Guinness World Records authorities and completed it on September 30
Saheli Pal of Ghurni locality in Krishnanagar seeks to break the Guinness World Record of Iran’s Meysam Rahmani, who had made a UNESCO logo with 1,36,951 matchsticks in 2013. (Photo by Getty Images/Representational)
A 22-year-old woman in West Bengal’s Nadia district has created an image of the Taj Mahal using more than 3 lakh matchsticks.
Saheli Pal of Ghurni locality in Krishnanagar seeks to break the Guinness World Record of Iran’s Meysam Rahmani, who had made a UNESCO logo with 1,36,951 matchsticks in 2013. Pal, an MA English student at Calcutta University, created the image on 6 feet by 4 feet board.
She had started her work in mid-August after receiving the guidelines from the Guinness World Records authorities and completed it on September 30.
A video of her artwork has been made and it will be sent to the Guinness World Records authorities soon.
“I have used matchsticks of two colours to depict Taj Mahal at night,” she said.
Pal had in 2018 created a world record by making the smallest clay sculpture of the face of Goddess Durga, measuring 2.54 cm by 1.93 cm by 0.76 cm and weighing 2.3 gm. Her father Subir Pal and grandfather Biren Pal had won the President’s Awards for their sculptures in 1991 and 1982 respectively.
“I want to carry forward the legacy of my father and grandfather,” she added.
source: http://www.indianexpress.com / The Indian Express / Home> Cities>Kolkata / by PTI / Krishnanagar / October 03rd, 2020
The Kolkata Cloud Chasers are a group of eight members who chase storms, by photographing and documenting extreme weather conditions in eastern India.
Kolkata on a cloudy evening during the Covid-19 lockdown. Photo credit: Debarshi Duttagupta; call sign: Roadrunner, Kolkata Cloud Chasers.
When Cyclone Bulbul arrived last November, it was one of the most severe tropical cyclonic storms to have struck the state of West Bengal and Bangladesh in more than a century. Hours before the cyclone made landfall, Chirasree Chakraborty, 47, and Joyjeet Mukherjee, 49, headed down to Henry Island, approximately 130 kilometres south of Kolkata, one of the few places where the arriving storm’s impact was going to be most severe.
“We are the only people who go towards the storm when everyone else stays inside,” says Mukherjee. Both are a part of the Kolkata Cloud Chasers, a group of eight who photograph and document extreme weather conditions in eastern India — they chase storms.
According to the group, they are the only collective engaged in this kind of photography in the country.
A recreational activity still in its infancy in India, storm chasing has been practised since at least the 1950s in western countries. The American Meteorological Society defines a storm chaser as someone who “intercepts, by car, van, or truck, severe convective storms for sport or for scientific research”
A member of the Kolkata Cloud Chasers surveys the weather conditions during the arrival of Cyclone Bulbul in November 2019 with a 4×4 parked nearby. (Photo: Kolkata Cloud Chasers)
“Storm chasing is not a recognised profession in India and so we all do other jobs,” says Chakraborty. By day, she works as a publicist, but after work hours, she finds herself tracking extreme weather conditions in the West Bengal region, and a similar scenario plays out in the case of the other members of the group.
The story of Kolkata Cloud Chasers started sometime in 2005 when some of the earliest members of the group met on Orkut, the social networking site, over their shared interest in photography. By 2009, when several Android applications became easily accessible to Indian users, including weather applications like AccuWeather, it became easier to experiment with photographing a wider range of weather conditions.
“During kalboishakhi (Nor’westers) and storms, we used to give alerts on our personal Facebook page,” recalls Chakraborty. By 2014, more members with a shared interest in weather photography joined the group, and the present team was formed.
There are many who photograph sunsets or cloud formations, and weather conditions if they chance upon a storm, but tracking it is different, explains Mukherjee. What this group does is essentially visually documenting West Bengal’s weather conditions by tracing its arrival and path. “In West Bengal, there hasn’t been much documentation of weather patterns,” says Chakraborty.
Cloud formations can be very large, spread across several kilometers and are visible from long distances. (Photo: Suman Kumar Ghosh; call sign: Goodboy, Kolkata Cloud Chasers)
Chasing storms is a three-step process that starts with tracking developing weather conditions and patterns. For that, the group starts with scanning weather apps for formations, including those by India’s meteorological department. “Before 2015, we only had the Met department’s app, but since then, many new applications have come in,” says Mukherjee. In the initial years, says Chakraborty, the group also found assistance from a former Met department employee who taught them more about understanding how to read meteorological data and weather patterns.
The next step is spotting, where the group goes out into the field searching for the cloud formations or storms that they are chasing. “Clouds are huge—they can be 18 kms tall and can be seen from long distances,” says Chakraborty. The last step involves navigation, where they “intercept” the storm or clouds by taking photos, videos and, most recently, using drones for images.
While the group tries to photograph as many diverse weather conditions as they can, they try to stick to government regulations and advisories. This past May, when Cyclone Amphan arrived in West Bengal, it coincided with the coronavirus lockdown imposed by the Indian government. Unable to venture out, the group photographed the cyclonic storm from the confines of their rooftop terraces and windows instead. Similarly, last summer when Cyclonic Storm Fani made landfall in Odisha, says Mukherjee, the government had restricted travel to the cities of Bhubaneswar and Puri, that prevented the group from travelling to the neighbouring state.
A group of children play on a beach in West Bengal just as Cyclonic Storm Bulbul is about to make landfall in 2019. (Photo: Joyjeet Mukherjee; call sign: Boltanator, Kolkata Cloud Chasers)
Having known each other for as long as they have makes extreme weather photography easier, believes Chakroborty. “We have known each other since 2005 and we have a good relationship,” she says of the group members, a characteristic that is more necessary than people realise. The challenging circumstances and the unpredictable nature of the weather conditions make it necessary for the members to be able to trust and rely on each other for assistance and coordination when they are out facing storms.
(From left to right) The team of Kolkata Cloud Chasers: Debarshi Duttagupta, Abhishek Saigal, Joyjeet Mukherjee, Krishnendu Chakraborty, Chrisaree Chakraborty, Suman Kumar Ghosh, Diganta Gogoi. Team member Indranil Kar is not present in this photograph. (Photo: Kolkata Cloud Chasers)
While audiences only see as much as photographs and videos allow them to of extreme video photography, the circumstances in which the group sets out for documentation is only understood when the group explains the backstory of each photograph. “There is extreme risk involved in doing this. Our families understand and they know that we won’t take unnecessary risks. So they have faith,” laughs Chakraborty.
The members set out in their vehicles, 4x4s, known as ‘SCIFs’ or ‘Storm Cloud Intercept Four-wheelers’—a name that the group gave to the cars they use—customised with recovery straps, hi-lift jacks, additional lights, and citizens band radios, a land mobile radio system that allows person-to-person bidirectional voice communication over short distances.
Additional equipment include DSLR cameras, iPads, GPS receivers, General Mobile Radio Service (also known as Walkie Talkies) and GoPro and DJI Osmo pocket cameras for vlogging. For drone footage, the group turns to the DJI Spark, a mini drone, and the DJI Mavic Air, a portable, foldable drone, with the equipment having been funded by the group members themselves.
A bolt of lightning across flashes across the Kolkata skyline. (Photo: Abhishek Saigal; call sign: Thunderman, Kolkata Storm Chasers)
The group members all come with their own call signs, names that they go by during radio communication when they’re out on the field. While Chakraborty goes by the call sign of ‘Phoenix’, Mukherjee answers to ‘Boltonator’, a spin on the term lightning bolts.
Extreme weather conditions aren’t the only challenges that the storm chasers battle. Since much of this kind of photography occurs outside the city limits or away from densely populated areas, reassuring locals is also a part of the group’s job. “Sometimes people think we are there to seize or assess land and belong to private companies or the government,” says Mukherjee of confrontations that have on occasion, led to clashes with suspicious locals.
Despite all the tracking and planning involved, it’s not possible to accurately predict the path that a storm will take, requiring contingency planning. Chakraborty remembers an incident from last year when she travelled to North Bengal to photograph a blizzard. “It’s called a northern disturbance and I was there for three days to catch the storm.” When she went out to photograph the blizzard, she only had a small shed for cover, making it difficult to stay outside for long. “The snow was too much.”
A fishing boat lies docked during Cyclone Bulbul in West Bengal in 2019. (Photo: Chirasree Chakraborty; call sign: Phoenix, Kolkata Cloud Chasers)
For Chakraborty however, nothing has surpassed the experience of photographing Cyclone Bulbul last year in her almost 10 years of photographing extreme weather. “We got the first visual of Bulbul when we saw the outer ring. We had planned on leaving at 1 p.m. but suddenly the storm came closer. Rain and gusting increased. It was the craziest experience.”
“People don’t know what a storm actually looks like,” says Mukherjee. The nature of extreme weather photography is such that it is as much about experiencing the conditions as it is about documenting it, the members say. Sometimes, the group ends up not taking too many photos and just witnesses the natural spectacle unfolding in front of them. While following a storm requires its own planning, the group also has to devise ways to escape it.
Chirasree Chakraborty uses a DSLR to photograph Sandakphu, the highest peak in West Bengal, along the Indo-Nepal border. (Photo: Kolkata Cloud Chasers)
Chakraborty believes that storm chasing isn’t only about extreme weather photography, but it is also about understanding how to respect the might of the natural phenomenon that they are experiencing. “It is our passion and if we don’t get to do it, we will stop breathing.”
source: http://www.indianexpress.com / The Indian Express / Home> Cities> Kolkata / by Neha Banka / Kolkata – September 30th, 2020
Kajiram Murmu, the block medical officer, belongs to a tribal community and is posted in Bengal’s most backward zone. He leads a team of four doctors and oversees the treatment of 250 patients daily.
Kajiram Murmu at a camp for villagers in Purulia;
It is 8 pm— time for most residents of Purulia’s Bandwan block, located along the West Bengal- Jharkhand border, to go to sleep after the day’s hard work.
But Kajiram Murmu, the block medical officer, isn’t through with his work. Murmu attends to sick children, women and the elderly who can’t make it to the block health centre.
He belongs to a tribal community and is posted in an area known as Bengal’s most backward zone. Murmu leads a team of four doctors and oversees the treatment of around 250 patients who turn up at the block health centre every day.
After that, he sets out to remote villages located in the dense forests of Bengal to reach out to those who cannot afford public transport fare or they simply don’t have any transport. “Malaria, tuberculosis and diarrhoea are the common diseases in this region.
“Additional precautions and long-term medication are required as part of the treatment. Other than meeting new patients, I also follow up on those who visit the health centre,” says Murmu. According to the 2011 census, Bandwan has a total population of over 94,000, of which around 89,000 live in rural pockets. 51.86% are from the scheduled tribes.
The zone has an almost equal male-female ratio. Those who are not involved in cultivation work as agricultural labourers, forming over 60% of the population, depend on forests for their livelihood.
“Malnutrition is a major issue. Malnourished tuberculosis patients show a delayed recovery and higher mortality than well-nourished patients,” says Murmu, who was posted at Bandwan over two years ago.
checking up on woman at a health centre | EXPRESS
Murmu says he has to persuade the tribals to use mosquito nets to avoid malaria. Murmu realized that prescribing medicines at the block health centre would not be enough.
“We conduct overnight camps for two days in remote villages. We teach them how to use bleaching powder during the monsoon season. Besides, we make them aware of how to use water purification tablets to avoid diarrhea.”
Thakurmani Murmu of Duarsini village, the last hamlet located in Bengal along its border with Jharkhand, says she would never forget the night when Murmu turned up at her doorstep a year ago.
“My eight-year-old granddaughter was suffering from fever and was vomiting. She had become too weak. The doctor treated her. He also taught us various dos and don’ts.”
Subhash Tudu’s 12-year old son was suffering from tuberculosis. “We took him to the hospital and doctor examined him. Before discharging him, he advised us about various precautions. The doctor-babu started visiting my house regularly to inquire about my son’s health. My son got a new life because of him,” Tudu said.
source: http://www.newindianexpress.com / The New Indian Express / Home> Good News / by Pranab Mondal / Express News Service / September 27th, 2020
The cycle is as good for our personal health as it is for our environment, not to mention women’s empowerment: Lipika Biswas
Lipika Biswa cycles on a road in Kasba / Picture by Subhendu Chaki
Lipika Biswas’s landing in Europe for the first time in July 2018 was with a thud. She was in Frankfurt where first the immigration officer would not believe that a woman from India was on a two-month cycling tour in Europe, alone. Then Biswas realised that no mechanic was free to help her re-assemble her bicycle, which she was lugging behind her packed in a box.
But Biswas is not someone who gives up easily. Getting to Frankfurt had not been easy either.
She calls herself a solo traveller. An Eastern Railways employee where she works as a senior clerk, Biswas, who turns 52 on Wednesday, had planned the Europe tour meticulously. She would bike from Germany to Iceland. With loans from friends and a very supportive family, she had managed to put together Rs 4.5 lakh for the trip, and had trained herself relentlessly, but had missed the bit about the re-assembling.
In Frankfurt, she lost a day trying to get a mechanic to help her and several Euros, which would always and instantly be converted into rupees in her mind. “I paid Rs 3,500 as taxi fare in Frankfurt just to move to a new accommodation,” says Biswas, a resident of Kasba. The next day she got to work herself, going by instinct, and put together her bike, and set off for Mainz, when she also realised that she did not know how to use GPS.
But the roads held her up, as she was borne by the kindness of strangers.
Biswas had been a mountaineer from 1994, the year she joined the railways. She wanted to be an adventurer. She had grown up in Palta, on the outskirts of Calcutta, attending school there and college in Naihati. “I was a tomboy. I played daant-guli. No dolls for me,” says Biswas.
She joined a local mountaineering club, Nababganj Mountain Lovers, and with them, as with others, “summited” several Himalayan mountain peaks. In 1995 she trekked up to Kalindi Pass, which connects Gangotri and Gastoli. Within a few years, she was a veteran. For two years, 2014 and 2015, she was part of an Everest expedition team, but on both occasions she had to return from the base camp as the expeditions were cancelled.
She had always loved cycling. The last few years she has turned to these “magic wheels”.
“I still wanted to go far,” she said. To be able to go up mountains that seem to be rising straight up is to conquer fear. “While going up I would think not again. Coming down I would want to return right then.”
But she also wanted to go alone. It would help her to confront the final frontiers of fear. A doctor friend, her adviser, told her to try Europe. It would be “safe”.
So there she was, on way to Mainz from Frankfurt, on a bicycle assembled by herself for the first time.
In Mainz, she was told at a late hour that she would have to cross the Rheine to camp. Biswas would either be hosted by members of Warm Showers, an international free touring cyclists community, or stay at Airbnb places, or camp in her own tent wherever possible, even in someone’s garden, spending as little money as possible on food. But in Mainz, the couple told her she could stay the night at their place. This would be the first of the many homes that would be offered to her by strangers.
“One of the best things about cycling is meeting people,” says Biswas. She made many friends in Europe. She did not face a single incident of racism, she feels. She felt appreciated, though she surprised many as an “Indian woman” out on such a tour.
She rattles off the names of places she visited: Mainz, Cologne, Duisberg, to Arnhem, Amsterdam, Zalk (a village in the Netherlands), back to Germany, and Fehmarn, from where she entered Denmark. Then she visited Sweden and Norway. From Norway she reached Iceland from Faroe Islands by ferry. Reaching Iceland was an emotional moment. She biked through the country from Seyðisfjörður to Reykjavik, from where she took a flight to Calcutta via Copenhagen and Delhi.
“On some days I cycled for 100 to 120km,”says Biswas. “My friend from Calcutta insisted that I go wild camping. So I stayed alone in the forest at Kronsjo the night before I entered Norway from Sweden.”
She discovered the pleasure of railway waiting rooms. At Lunden, near Flam in Norway, she decided to spend the night at the tiny railway station just because it was so heart-stoppingly beautiful. She was the only one at the waiting room, surrounded by mountains and an immense solitude.
She also made friends out of a few Indian ambassadors at the capitals. “Despite some problems, the tour went off quite well,” says Biswas, who was back in Calcutta after two months.
Only to be back in another part of Europe the next year, same time, for two months. She took off from Vienna, biked through Budapest, Belgrade and Sofia to Istanbul, where she had a brainwave.
She felt she must visit Greece. She went to the island of Lesbos, the home of Sappho, the greatly admired poet of ancient Greece who also gives her name to the Sapphic tradition.
Biswas visited the island, but when she wanted to enter Turkey again, from where she would take the flight home, she realised that she had a one-entry visa. She spent a deeply anxious night with her passport taken away, after which she was finally granted another visa for Turkey.
Last year in April, she had also gone on a bike tour of Sri Lanka, but with a friend.
“And I will go again,” she says. And looks proudly at her three bikes – a folding bike, a mountain bike and a touring bike — which are all parked happily inside her bedroom at her small Kasba apartment.
She wants Calcutta to be more cycle-friendly. The cycle is as good for our personal health as it is for our environment, not to mention women’s empowerment, she points out. During the pandemic many cycles are out in the streets.
“But in Calcutta cyclists should also learn to follow traffic signals,” she insists.
source: http://www.telegraphindia.com / The Telegraph, Online / Home> West Bengal> Calcutta / by Chandrima S Bhattacharya / September 14th, 2020
Swimmer Sachin Nag, who won the country its first gold medal at the inaugural 1951 Asian Games in New Delhi, gets Dhyan Chand Award
Sachin Nag’s son Ashoke will attend the online awards ceremony at the Sports Authority of India centre in Kolkata, where the president will virtually bestow the Dhyan Chand Award to his late father. (Photo courtesy: Ashoke Nag)
Ashoke Nag talks about having sleepless nights before the national sports awards were announced earlier this month. The son of late swimmer Sachin Nag, winner of the first gold medal for the country at the 1951 Asian Games in New Delhi, had experienced rejection in the past when he tried to secure his father’s legacy.
This was the fifth time Ashoke had applied to the sports ministry to bestow an award posthumously to one of Independent India’s first sporting superstars.
His father passed away in 1987 ‘with a broken soul’, Ashoke says.
Armed with 47 supporting documents, including black-and-white paper cuttings, certificates and a recommendation from paralympic swimmer Prasanth Karmarkar, Ashoke, a former sergeant in the Indian Air Force, applied again this year. The willpower to fight for the recognition his father deserved grew stronger every year that Sachin Nag’s name was not included in the list of awardees. 2009, 2012, 2018 and 2019 had brought only heartbreak.
“This year, I had reason to be hopeful because it is his birth centenary. And remember, he won three medals at the 1951 Asian Games. The gold in the 100m freestyle and bronze medals in the 400m freestyle relay and 300m medley relay. This was just four years after independence. India was a young country, those medals mattered a lot to the nation. I felt frustrated in the past when my father’s name was not included. My father passed away with a broken soul,” Ashoke, who has also penned his father’s biography in Bengali, says.
On Saturday, Ashoke will attend the online awards ceremony at the Sports Authority of India centre in Kolkata, where the president will virtually bestow the Dhyan Chand Award to his late father. “I attended the rehearsal on Thursday. I met archer Atanu Das and sprinter Dutee Chand. Felt good to be in the company of young achievers. I am looking forward to Saturday. After applying for the award, I would wake up at night and wonder if this would be the year,” Ashoke says.
As time went by, Ashoke knew he was in for a long battle.
The family had generously handed over Nag’s medals and blazers to the museum at the National Institute of Sports in Patiala in 1992, five years after the swimmer passed away. Nag was also a two-time Olympian and also part of the Indian water polo team. He coached for three decades as well. Ashoke felt his father got nothing in return after the initial fanfare died down.
Former Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru and Lady Edwina Mountbatten watched the event at the pool in 1951, Ashoke says. “Nehru ji was the first one to congratulate my father poolside when he won the gold in the 100m freestyle. I have pictures of Nehru ji and my father together. My father would say PM Nehru gave me respect but at times he felt that over the years people had forgotten him,” Ashoke, the third of six children, says.
Sachin Nag had won the first gold medal for the country at the 1951 Asian Games in New Delhi. (Photo courtesy: Ashoke Nag)
Nag, according to his son, was a proud man. He never asked for favours. Ashoke remembers how his father shot down the idea of approaching a top Swimming Federation of India official to recommend his name for the awards after they were instituted in 1961. “My father said, ‘I used to beat him in the 100m freestyle in the pool. I can’t go and ask him for a favour just because he has become a powerful official.’ He was a proud man,” Ashoke recalls.
Hurtful barbs
Some of the barbs Ashoke faced over the years still sting. Once after the awards were announced, he asked a footballer on the committee what went against his father. “The footballer asked me, ‘how many times did your father represent India? The footballer himself had won the Dhyan Chand award earlier. Yet he insulted my father by asking that question. It hurt me back then,” Ashoke says.
Nag had to deal with official apathy in the run-up to the 1951 Asian Games. The games were scheduled for early March, but Nag had arrived in Delhi in December, hoping to train in the capital. “An official of the organising committee asked my father why he had come so early and told him to go back to Calcutta. He was told there were no swimming pools in Delhi that he could use. But my father decided to find a way to train in Delhi. He located Sisil Hotel in old Delhi, which had a 20m by 10m pool, and requested an Italian lady who was the manager to allow him to use it for training. She agreed for a fee of about Rs 5. That too was waived off later.”
When he won the gold at the Asian Games a few months later, one of his first stops was the hotel. “He went to Sisil hotel to thank everyone for the support. He always remembered those who supported him.”
Caught in riots
If not for Nag’s steely determination, his swimming career would not have reached the heights it did in the late 1940s and early 50s. Nag suffered during the tumultuous days of Partition when he inadvertently got caught in the Calcutta riots. “He was returning from training at the Ganges when a bullet hit him on the right leg. He was badly injured and was admitted in a hospital for five months. When he was being discharged, the doctor told him that it would take him two years to get back to swimming,” Ashoke says.
But in a year’s time, Nag was at the 1948 London Olympics. He participated in the 100m freestyle and was a member of the Indian water polo team that beat Chile 7-4. All four goals were scored by Nag, Ashoke says.
To speed up his recovery, Nag returned to Banaras, where the family was based. He returned to the pilgrim town to rejoin the Saraswati Swimming Club, which he had founded. The masseurs in Banaras were excellent.
Another incident connected to the freedom struggle, where a young Nag was chased by police who were trying to break up a protest, resulted in his swimming talent being discovered early.
Ashoke narrates the sequence of events. “My father jumped into the Ganges to give the police the slip. He first hid underwater between two boats. But how long can someone stay underwater? There was a 10km swimming competition starting in the river and my father joined them. He finished third,” Ashoke says.
Back then, reputed swimmers from Calcutta clubs would enter long-distance competitions in Banaras. One of them, Jamini Das, who would captain the national waterpolo team at the 1948 Olympics, believed Nag had great potential and asked him to shift to Calcutta where he joined the Hatkhola Club.
One of Ashoke’s cherished memories from his childhood was his father pushing him and his brothers into the Ganges to swim. “We never became top-class swimmers like our father. But being successful in getting my father the prestigious award gives me immense satisfaction.”
source: http://www.indianexpress.com / The Indian Express / Home> Sports / by Nihal Koshie / August 29th, 2020
On August 15, 1947, when most of India was feeling triumphant and rejoicing the new-found independence, Bapu was in Calcutta, trying to figure out how to stop the communal violence triggered by the partition of Bengal.
On the night of August 14, 1947, when Jawaharlal Nehru was preparing to deliver his famous “Tryst with destiny” speech, Mahatma Gandhi was earnestly trying to end the communal violence triggered by the Partition.
Bengal was partitioned by the British, and a chunk of the state went on to form East Pakistan (now Bangladesh). The Partition, done along religious lines, resulted in bloody communal strife that ended in tears and pyres. So, on August 15, 1947, when most of the nation was feeling triumphant and rejoicing the new-found independence, Bapu was in Calcutta, worried sick.
Mahatma Gandhi was supposed to be in Bihar in the days leading to August 15, before heading to Bengal – both areas ravaged by communal strife. Bapu was only concerned about forging peace and harmony between the two communities. “To me, peace between Hindus and Muslims is more important than the declaration of independence,” he had famously said, and refused to take part in any celebrations.
He said: “I cannot rejoice on August 15. I do not want to deceive you. But at the same time, I shall not ask you not to rejoice. Unfortunately, the kind of freedom we have got today contains also the seeds of future conflict between India and Pakistan. How can we, therefore, light the lamps?”
Gandhi was eventually successful in his efforts, and his miraculous strategy in pacifying both communities was recognised by Lord Mountbatten, the last Viceroy of India.
Mountbatten said: “In Punjab, we have 55 thousand soldiers and large-scale rioting on our hands. In Bengal, our forces consist of one man (Gandhi), and there is no rioting.”
source: http://www.moneycontrol.com / MoneyControl / Home> News> India / by Jagyaseni Biswas / August 15th, 2020
