Friday, February 4, 2011

The Unsung heroes of Chittagong

How many in India know about the Chittagong armoury raid that took place on 18th April 1930 or the young martyrs of Jalalabad? Little is known about the events that took place in Chittagong. People hardly know where Chittagong is? It is only a handful of people who recall the Chittagong armoury raid. Chittagong or Chattogram is currently located in Bangladesh; earlier a part of India during the British Raj. This was an important trade centre as it was easily accessible by the sea but it also was the birth of the revolutionary warriors who dedicated their lives to overthrow the two hundred year rule of the British Empire over India. 

Chittagong Revolutionaries
I read about this when I was in school in my history books though it is a shame that they had given just a miniscule detail about the famous raids that set the British government’s pulse rising throughout the country. After all these years I came upon it once again with Ashutosh Gowariker’s movie Khelein hum jee jaan se. Inspired by the book ‘Do and Die’ which was the motto of the Chittagong revolutionaries written by Manini Chatterjee, the movie was beautifully shot and was enacted brilliantly by the actors. Though the movie did not do well at the box office it did manage to carve a niche for itself in many a people’s heart. The movie moved me to tears which made me all the more determined to read Manini’s book. She is the daughter in law of Kalpana Dutta, one of the few women at that time who took part in the Chittagong uprising aggressively and who also set a great example for the rest of the women in the country. Manini Chatterjee, a well known political journalist has done a commendable job writing this book and has thrown light upon the forgotten uprising. She has given a riveting account of the dramatic events that unfolded over three years. Surjya Sen or Masterda (as fondly called by his comrades) was the master plan behind the armoury raids. This was carried out with rage as an answer for the Empire’s atrocious acts and for a free India. Though it did have some major flaws yet it sent a chill through the British raj. The raids took place at 4 places in one night and what really shook the British from the root was that teenage boys as young as 13 had taken part in these raids. As many as 40 or more young boys had challenged the might of the British Empire. With armoury raids facing a major setback, Masterda and his young comrades escaped to the Jalalabad hills. On the fateful day of 22 April, 1930 nearly 12 young boys were mercilessly murdered by the British armed forces. Their bodies were dumped together on the hills and burnt and later thrown into the sea. The bodies were not even rightfully sent to their home for a proper farewell but deceitfully thrown away. They were permanently branded as terrorists in all the police records and papers. As Manini puts it together ‘they may have not been the most skilled soldiers but to call them terrorists is a travesty of truth and desecration of their memory’
This is the time for preparation to embrace death as a friend and this is the time 
to recall lights of other days as well. At such a solemn moment what shall I leave behind for you? 
That is my dream, my golden dream – the dream of Free India. How auspicious
a moment it was when I first saw it! Throughout my life, most passionately and
untiringly I pursued it like a lunatic….. Onward my comrades, onward- never fall back.
The day of bondage is disappearing and the dawn of freedom is ushering in.
-          From Surjya Sen’s last message to his comrades.
Such was the courage and spirit of the revolutionaries that they embraced death happily for the sake of their Motherland. 

Don’t these young boys deserve immense respect for what they have done as to free India from the British’s clutches just so that the future generation spend a peaceful life? Don’t they even deserve to be remembered for their unwavering spirit and fearlessness to challenge the mighty British Empire? Yet I speak with great shame that people hardly know about this and fail to acknowledge it. It’s a great disgrace to these young martyrs’ memory. 

The history books should include such revolutionary moment’s and revolt’s detail to instil patriotism and pride in the today’s youth. People have long forgotten these vigorous young, zestful heroes filled with love for their mother land and have replaced them with the reel heroes. More people like Manini and Ashutosh ought to come up with forgotten Indian history to keep the patriotism spirit alive and all of us must take pride in remembering and hailing these great revolutionary heroes.  
Vande Mataram!

Monday, January 10, 2011

Bravo!!!

Blaž Kavčič (Slovenia)
On 7/1/2011 I got this marvellous opportunity of watching an outstanding match between the famous Czech republican Tomas Berdych and the lesser known Slovenian Blaž Kavčič at the Aircel Chennai open. Thanks to Arun I could make it to the match without much hassle. I was elated the moment I stepped into the centre court though the stadium was nearly empty, the Indian express (Lee-Hesh) had just finished a practise match and were relaxing along with Tipsarević pacing up and down the court. Gradually people started filling in with their placards for the match at five. Announcements were made and the heroes were welcomes. A towering Kavčič made the entry in a florescent outfit followed by the crowd's favourite Tomas Berdych. Blaz raised the heat in the court, trying his best to overpower Berdych, he did manage to garner in a few points and won a game or two but his numerous double faults added on to Berdych's winning streak. Though Berdych was the much loved one, Kavčič won the spectators heart with his style and technique of playing as well as sent the crowd hoisting up their seats. Berdych was proficient in his tactful aces, exquisite forehands making the match delightful. His planned strategy gave him an astounding straight set win over Kavčič taking him through to the semi finals. Berdych was definitely boosted by the loud Chennai மக்கள், particularly a boisterous middle aged man who just couldn't cease screaming 'easy now tiger, we want more aces Berdych'. Thanks to, I would like to call him 'easy tiger', if not for him the evening wouldn't have been as entertaining as it turned out to be. The court was chock - a -block by the end of the match, waiting eagerly for the next, Indian express show. The players, the umpire, the crowd & easy tiger animated the stadium making it a day that will never be forgotten.

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

A Game of Badminton?!?!


This winter vacation has been immensely refreshing, starting off with being kicked out of a house party.... Chennai is enjoying a cold, lazy winter which just makes it difficult to propel yourself out of the bed, unless until jabbed into. My maa has always been an amazing energy package, a very dynamic woman herself she keeps me wanting to do the same. She prodded me to do the household chores which I did out of sheer exasperation and to please maa but i always retired back to my good old books. As a kid I was always out on the roads, boisterous & an avid sportsperson. Since moving to Chennai I have been denied the very joy of sweating my heart out at any kind of sport. I have always had the greatest regard for sportsmen, big or small. Sports always keeps a person balanced, generates positivity & helps take life as it comes. Just these thoughts alone bubbled up my energy. I finally ended up asking maa for a game of shuttle badminton for which without any slightest hesitation I got an affirmative yes. Badminton has been really close to her heart during her youthful days. We decided on a game of badminton every evening, it started on a great note. I could feel myself & maa transform into lively kids and directing our whole energy & heart into the game. I was amazed at my maa's liveliness & the focus on the game, badminton for sure made her powerful & hungry for more. We played till we drained. A game after nearly four years refreshed me totally & I had a whole new take on everything. The first day was accompanied with a painful arm but i enjoyed it as well. Badminton shook up the child in me who had been hibernating all this while. The tremendous joy that comes from it cannot be put up in words. My dear friend Arjun doubled up my joy by throwing his soul in putting up a tough match making it all the more exciting. I have seen sports bringing about a whole new dimension into a person's world be it maa or anyone else for that matter. It leaves you yearning for more. Badminton of all will remain the closest to my heart as it was the first sport I learned as a child. I have a lot of memories with this wonderful game that I'll cherish for the rest of my life. Sports must be made an integral part in everyone's life for their own betterment and the Indian government has to take an enormous step towards making it happen.

Sunday, July 12, 2009

Monsoonal bliss

The last place anybody would think of is Hubli, but there i was tucked under the blankets, sleeping peacefully.
Its been pouring over a month now, making this place cold n slushy. This is d time of the year when laziness takes the lead. It has taken a toll on me too. With immense effort everyday i make it out of my cozy bed just in time for the breakfast (10:00 am).With my brother out of the house i gladly take his place in front of the computer catching up with friends, checking out new movies, books , listening to dhan te nan from kaminey and staring at my modem which keeps blinking and frustrating me from time to time! So i head out but its monsoons.

Monsoons here in karnataka(most part of it) are so heavy that one cant step out of the house. It is blissful to watch the rain from far but with it lashing out for days, boredom stealthily creeps and takes its toll. Sitting on the compound and gazing at my neighbour's great Dane's soft eyes & jumping about on others compound and almost getting caught once gave me immense joy & pleasure but with the rains i had to huddle up in a corner of my bed reading Naipaul & classics. It is when my brother comes back home from his work that i get to go out and feel the fresh air.

Out there the roads are all slushy and with potholes bound to break backbones. Hubli's traffic is crazy with everyone claiming rights over the road. one can see the cattle, men, vehicles.... but it is the pedestrians who pose a problem for the drivers and the riders. No matter how hard you blow the horn, they move at their own pace. In spite of this we drove along taking in the cold air (it makes my hair sticky though) looking at the endless black clouds which seems like eternity.

We get back home, that is when i get to do the best part of monsoons. It is the eternal bliss of getting myself tucked under my blankets and hoping that something more exciting would be waiting when i open my eyes again.