The great fall to the real world

The great fall to the real world

People working in the industries are so much fun to watch. Reading people has been one of my favourite pastimes  too.

I am not talking about those who are little bothered about jobs at office , but have no other topics to talk about when two friends meet in the evening over a mug of beer except how much stressed he is or how stupid and mean is  his boss to cut his last appraisal to shreds. They are a highly adoptable species and will always survive feasting on others’ hard work.

Buy my prayer goes to  those who sleep, breathe, walk and eat  his job 24 × 7 hrs and demand others to inculcate their virtues too.  Feverishly calculative , they rule their kingdom  with the swaying  hunter , mowing down everyone on the way to the top. Somehow, they remind me to those words of  Julius Caesar, talking to Antony  about Cassius -  “He rarely smiles, and when he does smile, he does so in a self-mocking way, as if he scorns himself for smiling at all.”

Those who never felt the temptation of being a child seeing the autumn sky, murmur a soft song or feel the pleasure of  reading a few lines of poetry, never cherished beauty and elegance with all the subtle perfections except careful gaze with piercing eyes through the end where flesh meets the clothes , life for those is surely a curse post retirement.

And when they return to their kingdom of past  sometimes, does it hurt to find the honeybees, once used to encircle them, gone out on  killing spree to some other places !! They look around for a place to rest the tired legs and someone to come forward and say " Gentleman, can you squeeze yourself here.."

No, I am not going to be the one like that. Rather, post those 10-12 hours ,  which buy food, shelter, social security, I will come back to my own world of imperfections.

( This post is not for those who left behind a legacy and mere thought of them bring out altruistic respect and indebtedness )

You can contact Kamaljit at kamaljitmedhi1975@gmail.com

আমাৰ দেউতা এজন শিক্ষক আছিল । তেওঁ হাজো হায়াৰ চেকেণ্ডাৰী স্কুলত ইংৰাজী পঢ়ুৱাইছিল। আছিল নহয় , বৰ্তমানেও হয়।  কাৰণ অৱসৰৰ পিছত আজিও  ল'ৰা ছোৱালী পঢ়ুৱাব পালে, দুখ ভাগৰ পাহৰি থাকে।

দেউতা নিজেও চোকা ছাত্ৰ আছিল। অতি আকৰ্ষণীয় আছিল তেওঁৰ ব্যক্তিত্ব। বজ্ৰ সদৃশ কণ্ঠস্বৰ, অফুৰন্ত শক্তি  আৰু সভাশুৱনি মানুহ জনৰ  ওচৰত অন্যবোৰ যেন নিষ্প্ৰভ হৈ পৰে। তেওঁৰ অধ্যয়ন আৰু দৃষ্টিভংগী অতি সূক্ষ্ম। দেশ বিদেশৰ বিভিন্ন ঘটনা প্ৰবাহৰ নিৰ্ভুল ভৱিষ্যত দেখা পায়। আমি কেতিয়াবা কওঁ - আজিৰ পৰা ত্ৰিশ বছৰ আগৰ ঘটনাবোৰ তুমি কেনেদৰে দেখিছিলা ! সেইবোৰ কাকত আলোচনীত লিখা হলে কিমান যে বাহ বাহ পালাহেতেন ! এই যে অসমত এদিন ভাজপাৰ চৰকাৰ হব, বহু বছৰ আগেয়ে দেউতাই বোধহয় আমাৰ ডাঙৰ মামাক কৈছিল কোনো এটা গধূলি চাহৰ আড্ডাত। যিয়েই নহওঁক ইয়াৰ পিছৰ অসম খনৰ ভৱিষ্যতৰ বিষয়ে তেওঁৰ অনুমান  যেন  সঁচা নহয় কেতিয়াওঁ !

আমি ঘৰৰ গোটেইকেইজনে দেউতাই পঢ়ুৱা স্কুলতে পঢ়িছিলো। গৰমৰ দিনত আমাৰ স্কুলত বিজুলী পাংখা নাছিল। গৰমত কেতিয়াবা কোনো ছাত্র ছাত্ৰী বেহুচ হৈ গলে আমাৰ খুব আনন্দ। লগে লগে স্কুল ছুটী হৈ যায়। বৰষুণৰ দিনৰ কথা নকলোয়েই বা !

পিছে সেই স্কুলত দেউতাই John Keats, Wordsworth, Jean Paul Sartre, বাৰ্ট্ৰাণ্ড  ৰাছেল,  টলষ্টয়ৰ পৰা আৰু কত তাৰকাৰ লগত কৈশোৰত চিনাকি কৰাই দিয়া নাছিল !  Elocution ৰ প্ৰথম পাঠ শিকিছিলো দেউতাৰ বক্তৃতা শুনি। চমৎকাৰ আছিল তেওঁৰ দেহ আৰু মুখৰ ভাষা। দেউতা এটা অকলশৰীয়া উদাহৰণ নহয়। দেউতা সেই সময়ৰ এনে বহুতো শিক্ষকৰ প্ৰতীক। বিজ্ঞানৰ পাঠত দাস  ছাৰৰ লগত ষ্টীম ইঞ্জিনৰ ধাৰণাৰ ব্যৱহাৰিক পৰীক্ষণ কৰি  হাজোৰ মাধৱ মন্দিৰৰ পুখুৰীত জাহাজৰ prototype চলোৱাৰ কথাবোৰ ভাবি আজি অভিভূত হওঁ।

দেউতাই অৱসৰ লোৱাৰ সময়ত মই ইঞ্জিনিয়াৰিং পাছ কৰি চাকৰিত সোমাইছো। মই ডাঙৰ। মোৰ তলত আৰু দুজন ভাইটি আৰু দুজনী ভন্টী। সৰু ভাইটি অভিজিতৰ বাহিৰে গোটেই কেইটাই কলেজ উনিভাৰ্ছিটিত পঢ়ে। ইপিনে সকলো কাম সময়মতে হব লাগে বুলি নিজে ছোৱালী চাই মোক বিয়া পাতি দিছে। অৱসৰৰ পিছত পাব লগা পইচা কেইটা দেউতাই নাপাই হে নাপায় ! ঘোচ নিদিয়ে দেউতাই। কাম হব ক’ৰ পৰা !

মোক শিক্ষক কৰাৰ ইচ্ছা আছিল। মায়ে কলে - এইবাৰ কিন্ত্ত মোৰ কথা মতে হব। মোৰ বোৱাৰী কেইজনীৰ অন্ততঃ ভাগ্যবোৰ ভাল হওক।( ভাগ্য পিছে ভাল নহল তেওঁলোকৰ) আমাৰ এজনৰো শিক্ষক হোৱা নহল। ভাগ্য ভাল আছিল,  এজন এজনকৈ ঘোচ নিদিয়াকৈ আমি প্ৰতিজনে পাছ কৰাৰ  লগে লগে কৰবাত মূৰ সুমুৱাব পাৰিছিলো !

দেউতাই আগেয়ে প্ৰায়ে কয় - নিজৰ সন্মান বচাই অৱসৰ লব পাৰিলোঁ যে। বৰ দুৰ্দিন আহিছে জাতিটোৰ বাবে। যি শিক্ষকে গঢ়ি পিটি জাতি আৰু দেশৰ ভবিষ্যত গঢ়িব লাগে, ৰাজনৈতিক দালালৰ হাতত এটা বাক্য ভালদৰে লিখিব নোৱাৰা বহুতো আজি আমাৰ বেছিভাগ অসমীয়া মাধ্যমৰ চৰকাৰী শিক্ষক হৈছে। অমিবোৰে কৰা ত্যাগৰ মূল্য সমাজে নিদিয়ে। চুৰি ডকাইতি কৰি  আৰ্জন কৰা সম্পদৰ ভক্তিত গদ গদ সমাজ আজি। আমাৰ সময়ত ভাল ছাত্ৰ সকলক মালা পিন্ধোৱাই ৰাইজে শিক্ষক কৰি আদৰি অনাৰ দিন উকলিল ।

আমি পঢ়া হাজোৰ সেই স্কুলখনত বিজুলী পাংখা নাথাকিব পাৰে, কত কিমান চোকা ছাত্ৰৰ সেই স্কুলৰ চৌহদ আছিল   জীৱন গঢ়া পাঠশালা।  সেইখন স্কুলৰ কাষেৰে কেতিয়াবা পাৰ হলে আজি বুকু খন গভীৰ হৈ পৰে। প্ৰকাণ্ড খেলপথাৰ (এসময়ত বৰদলৈ  ট্ৰফীৰ লীগ খেল চাইছিলো ইয়াতে) আৰু শাৰী শাৰী অসম আৰ্হিৰ ঘৰ বোৰ। সৰুতে  দেখাৰ দৰে আজি খেলুৱৈৰে গিজ গিজাই নাথাকে খেলপথাৰ। গধূলিৰ শক্তিবৰ্ধক পানীয় সেৱনকাৰী শৰীৰত ফটবলৰ পিছে পিছে দৌৰাৰ শকতি কত থাকিব! মানুহৰ পিছে আৰ্থিক উন্নতি হৈছে। দহমাইল দূৰৰ ইংৰাজী স্কুলত পঢ়ে আজিৰ বেছি ভাগ সজাগ পিতৃ মাতৃৰ সন্তান সকল। কি সুন্দৰ ইউনিফৰ্ম ! দৃষ্টিৰ আঁতৰ নোহোৱালৈ, মাক বাপেকে সন্তানক দেৱালৰ  ছিদ্ৰৰেও জুমি জুমি চাই থাকিব। যিসকলে আজি  মই পঢ়া স্কুলত পঢ়ে, সেইসকল কিন্তু অকলে আহে, দেহত নাথাকে সুন্দৰ ইউনিফৰ্ম, ভৰিত জোতা। মিড দে মিলৰ স্কীমটো আমাৰ সময়ত নাছিল, এতিয়া জোৰদাৰ চলি আছে।  আজিৰ শিক্ষক ব্যস্ত থাকে মিড দে মিলৰ চাউল আৰু খৰিৰ হিচাপত। এতিয়াও দেউতাৰ ওচৰলৈ কোনো কোনো ডেকা  শিক্ষক আহে। ইংৰাজীত দৰ্খাস্ত লিখিবলৈ বা অন্য কিছু তৰ্জমা কৰিবলৈ। দেউতাৰ বয়স হৈছে, হাত কঁপে এতিয়া। সৰু ভন্টীলৈ ৰৈ থাকে। তাইৰ হাতৰ আখৰ আমাৰ সকলোতকৈ ধুনীয়া। দেউতাই শ্ৰুতলিপি দিয়ে, তাই লিখি যায়। সৰুতে ঘৰত ভাতৰ পাতত বহা, দেশ বিদেশৰ বহু গুৰুত্বপূৰ্ণ সিদ্ধান্ত লোৱা সভা খনৰ আজিকালি আগৰ দৰে  ৰং নাই। কাচিৎহে আমি পাঁচটা লগ হওঁ। জীৱনৰ কত কি দায়িত্ব ! হাজোৰ পুৰণা ঘৰত এতিয়া দুজন অকলশৰীয়া মানুহ, ভাত খোৱা মেজৰ মাত্ৰ দুখন চকী হলেই হৈ যায়।

হয় পিছে, মোৰ দেউতাও এজন শিক্ষক আছিল বা এতিয়াও আছে । এটা কথা ঠিক।  আত্ম সন্মানতকৈ চাকৰিটো তেওঁৰ বাবে বেছি গুৰুত্বপূৰ্ণ নাছিল।  মন্ত্ৰীৰ অপমান সহ্য কৰাতকৈ, তেওঁ যে চাকৰি ত্যাগ কৰিবলৈ কুন্ঠা বোধ নকৰিলেহেঁতেন, সেয়া ধূৰুপ।

FB ত মন্ত্ৰী হিমন্তবিশ্বৰ বিষয়ে লিখা মন্তব্যবোৰ পঢ়িছোঁ।  মন্ত্ৰী হিচাপে সমীক্ষা লোৱা তেওঁৰ দায়িত্ব। কিন্তু তাৰ বাবে live TV ৰ দৰকাৰ বোধহয় নাছিল ।  গোটেই ঘটনাটো আজিও বৰ্তি থকা নিষ্ঠাবান আৰু প্ৰতিভাশালী শিক্ষক বা শিক্ষয়ত্ৰীসকলৰ বাবে অপমানজনক নহয়নে! অৱশ্যে  বৰ্তমানৰ শিক্ষা বিভাগটোৰ বাবে অকল মন্ত্ৰীজনেই দায়ী নহয় ! সত্তৰ আৰু আশীৰ দশকৰ পৰা আমাৰ সমাজলৈ অহা পৰিৱৰ্তন বোৰলৈ মনত পেলাওকচোন। এই গোটেই প্ৰক্ৰিয়া টোৰ   কিন্তু বৰ্তমান হল  আজিৰ আমাৰ শিক্ষা ব্যৱস্থা আৰু মন্ত্ৰীজনা।

( আজিকালি টেটৰ পৰীক্ষা দি শিক্ষক হোৱা  সকলৰ মাজত বহুতো প্ৰতিভাশালী ছাত্ৰ ছাত্ৰীও আছে। অন্ততঃ ঘোচ নিদিয়াকৈ বহুজন শিক্ষক হৈছে। তাৰ বাবে কিছু কৃতিত্বও কিন্ত্ত মন্ত্ৰী জনাৰ প্ৰাপ্য)
You can contact Kamaljit at kamaljitmedhi1975@gmail.com

Dynasties are killing their parties

When Pandit Nehru expired, there was lot of apprehension - who next to fill up the vacancy of a colossus like Nehru. From 1964 to 66, Lal Bahadur Shastri showed the world that to inspire a nation, the PM didn't require to belong to blue blood . The slogan from the simple dhotiwaala PM, “Jai Jawan, Jai Kishan “  reverberated across the length and breadth of this country at a difficult time which was unheard and unseen. Indiraji’s “ Garibi Hatao” was pale and dull  as compared to what  Shastri delivered.

Rajiv Gandhi’s  untimely death gave PV  Narasimha  Rao to redeem himself as one of the finest PMs ever to give new direction to the economy of the  country.

Atalji was always no pushover and was a highly decorated MP before becoming PM. He was another gem of a PM who delivered against the constant bickering amongst his allies.

Manmohan Singh will perhaps go down in the history for the mega scams during his time.  He is often credited with liberation of Indian economy though the credit should go to PM Rao rather than MMS. His ever dependence   on a family made PMO actually rudderless. Yet, many of the initiatives which Singh failed to implement with gusto were taken over by Narendra Modi. From GST to Swachh  Bharat, contribution of MMS can't be undermined.

Next came  the chaiwala and some people still intoxicated by the slave attitude ,  immediately raised  questions on his credibility. One avid follower even asked which language Modi would speak with the foreign dignitaries, as he had never been to any University abroad.

All of us now know what a chaiwala can do !

The crux of my post is there are enough talents even  amongst our political leaders including the oldest party as well. Look beyond dynasty to create a bond with the emerging India. This young India never gives a damn for what your great grand Fathers were. The young generation is all about achievement by tireless  hard work and dedication. Nothing is taken for granted for sure.

The political parties should listen to the call of time to remain relevant.

You can contact Kamaljit at kamaljitmedhi1975@gmail.com

Rumblings of marital bliss

“It's your life, it's your wish.” she curtly cut my call off.

“Ahh.. these ladies ! Even God fails to count their moves, I am only an ordinary mortal” I murmured as I placed the phone back on the cradle. After a long time, my old friend had dropped at  our town on Official assignment. So, I called  my wife, Arpana, to inform that I would return home little late in the evening as I was to  go to the Club from Office with my friend.

So , two friends spent a beautiful evening, sipped few drinks , minced words with nuts till it was 10 PM and the time for the bar to close.

Coming home  back, I met rather an indifferent wife at the door,  quickly moving away without any pleasantries. Our son Hrishi was already at bed which was unusual at 10 PM.  Only after my repeated call,  he whispered  - Papa, Mama is very angry.

By now I was little peeved.

" Am I not entitled  an evening alone with my friend ? Doesn't she catch up with her own friends ? Have I ever shown such attitude! “

Dinner was laid and I found her  best crockeries resting on the table with my favorite cuisines. Normally , we eat simple dinner and make up the calories in breakfast and lunch. The seductive look and odour of the cuisines tinkered my taste buds hard enough to make me gulp the flowing saliva in my watery mouth.

Something was utterly  wrong !  We kept on eating dinner silently till  Arpana broke the stillness  - Still you don't remember what it is today !!

Ah…. I cursed myself. It was our  Wedding Anniversary and how could I forget !! That was the reason  she was hooked to the phone all the time in the morning answering to calls and not even a single family member wished me to remind that it was our Anniversary ! I knew it was a trick she hatched to see if I remembered our day taking advantage of me being out of my mobile at Office as  I worked inside the Refinery where mobiles were barred.

“OK. I shall make it up in October in your birthday” I  made a vow.

Days and months passed by.  I was busy in a late evening meeting at Office, when I received a call from Hrishi.

“Papa… Can you bring a B’day cake for Mama while you come home ? Don't you remember ?”

Oh… Goodness gracious ! I almost goofed up once more. It  was 17th October and Arpana's  B’day. It was already 7:30 pm with an unfinished agenda at Office while at Digboi most of the shops close by 8 in the evening.

While I assured Hrishi, I remembered the day (Papa remembers all)  and all I wanted was to surprise her in the evening ! I hurriedly called at the lone baker's shop to order  a B’day cake.

By the time, I finished my Office and collected the cake, it was almost 9 O’clock. I enquired at nearby stationary shop , still open, whether they had any   B’day gift. They had nothing much of a collection except that masterpiece.

It was indeed a surprise for Arpana as she was planning for a repeat of the last Anniversary to remind me how careless I was for my family while each and every other  man was such wonderful devoted husband !

As she opened the wrapper, her excitement and curiosity  turned into disappointment followed by  sarcasm and laughter. The Bone China tea set with a pot  was smiling at  and wished her a Happy B’day.

“ A tea set for use of the entire family !!!! This has to be the most unromantic gift ever a husband brought for his wife . This is my destiny. Tell me, you again forgot my day and this is the only stuff you got in New Market at this hour. ”

Hrishi was still confused and trying hard to understand whether his Mama was happy or annoyed to receive the gift which he made sure to write his name as  well in the attached gift card just below the “ Best Wishes” tag line.

“ It's the best gift I thought off after so many days and you call it unromantic ! ” I said.

“ In the weekend afternoons, we will  sit outside seeing the beautiful Digboi skyline, seeing the birds fly home, seeing the Sun sets in the horizon , engrossed in each other's eyes while the tea brews  in this pot. Doesn't that sound  romantic ???” I was in my elements to woo a lady.

My words had magic. We had a happy celebration thereafter including a dinner invitation to my friend next day.

Arpana still wonders my choice of gift on that B’day and till date keeps on enquiring about it. I didn't tell her the background story. So, while she reads this Sunday  post, which she often does, she will find on her own. Come 3rd of July and we will be another year older as a couple. While I have traits of a vagabond at heart making her life difficult at times, I am required to be precise , calculative and methodical as a professional. Life has been a constant tussle between the two facets of the same person.

In the last 14 years, I have only words of gratitude to Arpana for everything, endless sacrifices she made , for bearing my forgetfulness and above all making this wild feral domesticated to remember important dates !


You can contact Kamaljit at kamaljitmedhi1975@gmail.com

I am 42 today

I was born on this day 42 years ago. At 42, halfway between the cradle and the final amble,  feel like still having the best years ahead and the mind restless as ever, though occasional bout of uric acid reminds me, I have crossed some distance from the cradle.

Born in the month of Phalguna, my horoscope says, I am light hearted like the gentle breeze of my birth month. Out of all the many predictions, this is the one, coming perfectly true. In life, very rarely, I am not happy. Beauty, magnanimity and all good spirits of life still make me heady the way I used to be twenty years ago.  

As I scribble through the key pad to write this post, memories of my 34^th & 36^th B’day, once more making me feel nostalgic. In 2009, we were burning the candle at both hands with the Project construction and B’day celebration was the last thing in my mind. Suddenly, I received a call from Naba Da (Nabajyoti Bora - Presently working at Digboi Refinery as Chief Maintenance Manager) to urgently rush to the Project site. The project had a huge conceptual error (The part looked after by me) requiring entire underground civil work redoing and a high level meeting was urgently convened at site. When I pleaded to let me know the flaw, he somewhat sternly cut me off by asking to rush.

As I hurried to the site, I found the meeting was on. The General Manager  was not at the table and most important chair was occupied by our Chief Project Manager instead who asked me to have a sit. Everyone looked serious at the round project table when Debdoot and Naba Da came out with a B’day cake. It was some surprise!

I had no role on the Time, Venue, Menu , neither on Invitees,  for the evening as everything was decided by Nitish Da (Presently Dy. general Manager at Guwahati Refinery). The spontaneity and the camaraderie of the evening were incredible and left me with an indelible mark in my memory.  

I spent the 36th B’day at IiPM, Gurgaon undergoing a residential Management training program. We had a long weekend and with my good friends Ruchir and Ranjeet, I was off to Mathura and Agra. While coming back, perhaps, the romance of Shahjahan & Mumtaz was still working overtime at the back my mind as I missed to spot a sharp sheet of Iron in the garage while parking our car. I needed nine stitches to cover the cut on my head and stop the gushing blood.

In the evening,   I was feeling appallingly lonely, down and out. This had to be the worst day and ominous sign of the year to come,  I said to myself.  And then, I heard my phone ringing. Subha Jyothsna, who was a fellow participant of the same course, was at the other end.

“How are you feeling Kamaljit?” She enquired. “ This has to be your day to rejoice. I have ordered a cake and invited other participants to your room”.

On my 42th  B’day, with fond remembrance, I thank Dibakar Bhattacharjee Sir, Nitish Da, Naba Da, Son, Debdoot, Rakesh,  Sanjib , Rupak Laskar , Jyotirmoy, Burnwal , Abhishek, Arundhuti Bou, Swarnali , Doli   for that wonderful evening  Digboi tourist lodge on 21-Feb, 2009.  

And let me tell you, Subha Jyothsna Madam, the sweetness of that cake has lingered on in the last six years. On my B’day,  I still remember and talk to my wife about that evening at IiPM, Gurgaon and the kindness you and others showered on me. 

You can contact Kamaljit at kamaljitmedhi1975@gmail.com

Compassion – Thy name is woman

 “Son, you should always have respect for the ladies ” – my mother one day said.

In those adolescence days, we were used to innumerable counselling sessions. Dinner was a favourite time for our parents for delivering those sermons and many a times, it marred the excitement of relishing the delicious food served on the table.  As a rebellious teenager, I was sceptic to my mother’s advice and  thought it was biased with mother herself being a woman. Being at the doorstep of 42nd spring of my life, I know, I was not right. My respect for the women has only grown over the years.

In 2007, I was part of a Project team to construct and commission a new Process Unit for production of environment friendly Petrol at Digboi Refinery. The site we chose for the new project was majestically occupied by one of the World’s oldest Delayer Coker Unit built in thirties of the previous century. Building a Oil Refinery in a far flung area like Digboi in the year 1901 was  an arduous task for the British. Steel and every commodity, small and big, had to be imported from Europe and America through a tortuous journey requiring phenomenal logistic acumen and perseverance. The equipments were installed over raft foundation unlike today’s RCC piling. The British Engineers used pipes, torn rail pieces and anything made of steel for preparing those civil foundation.

After dismantling the over ground equipments of the old unit, it was time to unearth the civil foundation beneath the ground. As the first trailer unloaded the dismantled civil structure in the area earmarked outside the Refinery, commotion broke out amongst the large group of rag pickers assembled immediately around the rubbles equipped with hammers to crush the concrete pieces for the prized scrap iron part. All of a sudden, the trailer infused excitement to the otherwise dullness of the area. A group of truck drivers also joined the carnival as audience leaving aside their makeshift kitchens near the trucks. Sitting inside my car,  I switched off the Engineer in me and allowed my mind to drift apart looking at the surrounding with a pack of Mad Angle potato chips and a Coke.

The initial enthusiasm of the people soon turned out to despair as the civil structures constructed by the no nonsense British started returning the banging hammers with equal gusto without yielding an inch. Soon one after another, the defeated and dejected warriors of young and old alike started retreating from the scene except one woman. I still remember her fiery eyes. She was a frail physique and I thought would collapse any moment with every hit on the structure by the mammoth hammer she was swinging. But with steely resolve, she continued to pound the concrete with the same energy, viciousness and interval.

After few hours, we came back to the site once more to see whether the soft ground could withstand the wheels of the heavy machineries of trailers and bulldozers for another day. As dusk had befallen, the area was deserted and I saw the lone lady was going home with her treasure of few iron pieces over her head. As she walked past me, I saw the fire in her eyes was doused by a sense of accomplishment and hope of  a caring mother going home back to her family.  

With destiny being kind, I have a relatively easier life in a country where one third of the population are bereft of the basic necessities.  Each day, at office, home or over friendly chit chats, the ladies I interact, often make me feel awed by their beauty, intelligence and elegance. But what is common with the women I am familiar with as wife, mothers, sisters, friends, colleagues  and that lady with a bundle of iron pieces over her head is the compassion, love and sacrifice   for the dear and near ones which put us, the men,  in poor light and far behind. 

You can contact Kamaljit at kamaljitmedhi1975@gmail.com