So,now..after all that INTRODUCTORY CRAP which I've cannonned at you people,lemme say something more sensible.
About me,that is.
My life's quite interesting.C'mon,now don't say..."publicity stunt"..atleast listen to it first!
I was born on the 10th of November,1989 at Hill View Nursing Home,Asansol.The doc was Dr. Sanath Sinha(pity it wasn't Sanath Jayasuriya...otherwise instead of giving me medicines he would have given me a plastic cricket bat...hehe).In the same place was born,2 days after me,a naughty bloke...one whom I later came to know as Arkadeb Mukherjee...a good friend at B.R.S. Celebrity kid..grandson of former Asansol mayor Bamapada Mukherjee. Well,now he's busy chasing Aunkita Bardhan..but no,wait...I'll tell that story sometime later..I really marvel at my ability to drift away form the topic,I must say!!!
Well,the starting years(not years,not even months,to be precise..days) at Asansol...I don't remember.My father worked in the Indian Air Force in the RADAR operations,and so,pretty soon after I was born,we were off to Delhi. We stayed at the Air Force quarters at Halwara in Delhi. Naughty as I was,i troubled people everywhere.I still remember the 1st friend I ever made..Pappu Nayek..I've got no trace of him now. We were the tricycle champs in our colony..and often ventured out together in search of pure and simple fun...just like hunky guys zoom around in search of...umm..babes..(damsels...birds..whatever u call them)..I still remember an incident that happened then. One day,I went out alone...tricycling my way through.Somehow,TAARE ZAMEEN PAR style,I lost my sense of direction and went out of the campus all the way to the Air Force Hospital. In the meantime,my mom had started panicking.Luckily,a colleague of my dad found me and took me home.Another time,it was a Punjabi truck driver who took me back home and scolded my dad,"bahut badmaash bachha hai aapka...mar jata mere truck ke niche!!"...
Hmm..naughty,wasn't I???I made life hell for my classmates at the Air Force School in Halwara. Kicked and slapped the boys,and pulled at those irritating "tails" hanging form the girls' skulls.
Here,I should also mention the fact that I'm one of those rare Bengalis who learnt Hindi first and then my mother tongue.
For a few months,we had also stayed at Ludhiana,Punjab.
Don't have much to say but I loved trying to catch those big fishes at the Golden Temple in Amritsar...i needn't say that I didn't succeed in my endeavour.
I have vague,hazy memories of my birthdays there...dad says I danced a lot in one..and slept throughout in another..etc. I got to see a lot of Russians in the parties that dad went.Maybe a team or group had been sent for some joint training camps and drills...which are so common even now.Booze was an integral part of their culture...vodka..to be more specific..But the thing which astonished me the most was the way in which they devoured big chunks of horse-meat,yuck!!
A very memorable Shimla trip(where I had a great time plucking apples from trees and throwing them away...didn't bother to eat them..i hate apples) is also one of the few things I remember.
Whatever I remember of the life there(though it's too little),was..sort of...good..
Afterwards,dad retired from the Air Force and we came back home,to our birthplace..Asansol.
That was the end of life in Northern India and the beginning of life in "Amar Sonar Bangla"..
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