I should not be bracketed with those senseless and harsh people in the opposition for questioning the timing of the announcement of ultimate glory for Bengal: the geographical index (GI) recognition to our and ours alone Rosogolla, the sweet of Bengal. The longish, boorish fight ended with Odisha with the acceptance of the arguments placed on West Bengal’s side, saving our sleep and peace, and a possible feeling of guilt, each time we stuff in a juicy rosogolla in our mouth wondering if it is truly ours or theirs.
I can her someone whispering from the coastal town of Puri; ‘come next election, watch us Kalingas, we do not forget insults so easily. After all the sweet was holy and was the prime offering to Lord Jaggannath, which itself should have ceased all arguments, either for or against the topic. Bengal being Bengal, nothing better was expected,’ they lament.
I mentioned about the timing, did I. Yes, CM just is back from her London visit after succeeding in obtaining a ‘blue’ plaque for Sister Nivedita’s home in London. No, my friends from the opposition, the blue is not forced and has nothing to do with our honourable CM’s personal taste of colours, but is a honorific conferred on heritage structures in England. Wow, that’s an idea! All heritage structures in Bengal too should sport the bright or garish blue and white plaques in much larger size.
Laxmi Mittal, an erstwhile Calcuttan has promised to attend the Bengal Summit, which is heart warming. He’s, I her and out and out steel baron and will he be able to invest in a steel mill, when Jindal seemingly wrapped up his project for logistical difficulties in procuring coal and iron-ore? Any magic can happen, as Mittal had even hired the Victoria lawns to throw a party for his child’s wedding against all norms!
For all those who were waiting for loud fire-crackers from Mukul Roy, I guess, as a responsible citizen he stands to honour the decibel limits of 65 Db set by the pollution control board. The crackers are also damp in the intermittent showers that are only helping the mosquitoes to spread the unmentionable ‘unknown’ fever, causing uninterrupted deaths of young and old alike.
I saw in the TV, senior municipal corporation officials dipping their hands in bleaching powder and spreading it on the drains and narrow paths. How touching the scene was, reminiscent to people spreading puffed rice while accompanying a dead body to the crematorium. I made the mistake of imitating the act, dipping my hand into bleaching powder and spreading it near my house ignoring the warnings on the TV, which clearly stated that ‘these acts are performed by professionals under controlled conditions,’ much like those acts by film heroes. Result: my hands were burnt and had to be washed many times and ointments applied for days to heal. I know you are wondering what could have happened to the municipal corporation officials’ hands? Well under L1 tender the quality of the bleaching powder spread seems to be the main fodder for those ‘unknown’ larvae, which seem to thrive and grow speedily as if pumped with steroids.
For the moment, let’s all relish in another great achievement of Bengal, to savour Rosogolla in the name of Lord jaggannath!