Musings of a White Haired Teenager

Many years ago, there was a movie made about people being haunted by ghosts, and with no one else left to help them, they called a company called the Ghostbusters (the name of the movie as well) to get rid of the evil that surrounded them. While the film was comedic, it made the phrase, "who you gonna call?" a common parlance. In its humor the movie pointed to a malaise that seems to have become a new pandemic. Since there was no one dependable or trustworthy to deal with an infestation of ghosts, the ghostbusters needed to be brought in. Today, it seems, in the absence of having no one reliable or trustworthy to call to deal with the evil that surrounds us, we have no one to call either. It seems there are no ghostbusters for real life. The progressive erosion of trust is like a new pandemic. And it has permeated every aspect of life. The list is enormous: the woman who has been wronged by the one she loved has no one left to call; a child ignored by the parents is hapless i

I started this blog some years ago sitting at home during the dark days of COVID-19 when the city of Kolkata had come together in its unique way to voluntarily respond to the return of the menace amongst us. The lock down was not even announced in the March of 2021, but we responded on our own, we shut our shops, we stopped going out, we hunkered down, and we said to the disease, "we will not be beaten." That is what makes the city so unique - we do things because we know what the right thing is - most of the time, the people know. And the people respond. Today, we fight a different disease. Today when we are now trapped in a web of self-interests, greed and the desire for power, I am witnessing the city respond again. The people matter. In this city. Self-interest is now the disease. And it is not new. Even at a personal level, the entitled people abandon others for selfish reasons, and I have seen many such people, for whom we say in Bangla, " যে যার নিজের টা গুছিয়

Not many amongst my readers may recall a book by Arthur Hailey called  Airport , which was made into a movie in the 1970s. At that time, it was a fascinating read, and to watch the movie sitting in Kolkata was a treat; to be able to imagine what the USA would be like, and not even fathoming what snow was or could do to a fictional airport in Chicago. Later in my life, I had the opportunity to experience weather like that in that city in its very non-fictional gigantic airport. There is a character in the narrative that appeared merely amusing when I had read the book and watched the movie in my youth. But today, this character becomes central in my thinking of what I experience. The person is the stowaway - a quaint near-70-year-old lady by the name of Ada Quonsett. She is a metaphor for those who live life on the edge. In the story she is a person who has mastered the art of deceit and can do things that allow her to utilize her apparent innocence to achieve what she wants - most of w

End of Memories LIVE If today did not happen Then tomorrow would not matter The memories of today makes The stories for tomorrow The mystery of tomorrow Makes today complete In balance lies the memories As a bondhu said "Everyday is a new Day" The potential of tomorrow Needs no calendars All that matters is the  Anticipation Of the new memories That will come tomorrow Tomorrow is A new opportunity For memories No more and no less When the memories stop Life stops REMEMBER To make memories today So that you want to live Tomorrow To tell the stories

The Plan: Anyone who knows me, would also know I have to go to various places for my work. In my professional life, having to go to places has been a requirement. From appearing at academic forums to working with cities and counties, I have had the good fortune of working in nearly 150 communities in America and traveling to about 35 different countries. All this needed careful planning. And we plan to mitigate the risk of things going wrong. Everyone must plan. The rich kid of rich parents with the expensive car must plan the tryst with his crumpet on the beach, as he cheats on his wife, just as the academic has to plan how to present the most effective research presentation before a discerning audience. Because planning eventually mitigates risk, the crumpet and the seducer get away with their cheating and the academic gets accolades. Planning is a lot of work, and a good plan is one where the outcome is as expected. The test of a plan is the successful completion of the activity wit

The Prison: One of the most structured place one can inhabit is the prison. I have not been in the place in the real sense, but from what we know, there is structure there. Everything is pre-defined. There are rules that must be followed, hierarchies that are in place, and any transgression is punished. From Alcatraz to the Merriam-Webster Dictionary of the English language, we are placed in structures: From the guard towers to grammar. Any attempt to break out is a punishable offense. Even if many of my readers have not been to the likes of Tihar and Leavenworth, we are imprisoned by language. Many say language is a tool. And so it is. But a tool for what? A tool to structure our lives, to offer meanings, and point towards the truth, towards what is "right" and what is "wrong." We are defined by the signs that surround us, and again tonight, after watching a movie ( The Name of the Rose ), I am reminded that the notions that structure our lives are built into langu