Right to Education

Amidst the daily dose of depressing news that today’s media delivers, I will tell you an incident with an extremely positive and happy content. Of course, this will never find a space in the daily newspapers we read or the news channels we surf, but it surely deserves a space in my blog.

On 1stApril 2010, India became one of 135 countries to make education a fundamental right of every child. I like many became aware of it, but never experienced its effect on the grassroots. This was to change from January 2012, when my work brought me back to New Delhi. I started residing in Shahjahan Road with my parents and was introduced to a remarkable lady – Savitri, a quintessential household help seen abundantly in the National Capital Region.

Savitri, was not only efficient in her work but had a very optimistic approach towards life. Although, an uneducated lady she possessed a very modern outlook. Was her constant interaction with the families of bureaucrats residing in the colony the reason to this attitude or her zeal to improve her and her family’s life the reason, this is something I am unaware. The day I stated to interact with Savitri, I saw a very intelligent women in her, she grasped things quickly was a keen and eager learner and asked appropriate and clever questions. In many of her conversations she showcased regret and misfortune for not being educated, but in those same conversations she showed determination to educate her baby girl. Her entire dreams were woven around her daughter’s upbringing.

One evening when I returned from work, I was introduced to an adorable smartly dressed toddler in our house – Savitri’s daughter, Ayushi. In a very polished manner she exchanged pleasantries with me with her toothless smile and stuttering speech. Like any other kid, she was adamant not to go to school and wanted to play the entire day. I was instantly in love with her and played and joked around with her. Ayushi had traits of her mother -Intelligent, quick and eager learner. In our half an hour of interaction she learnt how to operate the IPOD. Savitri, insisted I make Ayushi realize the importance of school and asked me to teach Ayushi something new everytime we met.

As spring came, the day also came to enroll Ayushi in a preschool. Ayushi was admitted in a government aided school, but Savitri was not very keen with the atmosphere of the school. She complained to my mother about bullies in the school, the teaching methods and also the school’s distance from home made the little girl’s commute troublesome.

The prestigious, Raghubir Singh Junior Modern School, was just stone throw away from our house. Its proximity is so that we would wake up to its morning assembly and hear the marching beats for several days prior to the sports day. My mum, this school’s alumni, suggested Savitri to try for the school and mentioned the 25% reservation owing to the right of children to free and compulsory education act. Savitri, was excited to hear this and rushed at the first instance to the school’s premises to enquire. Her excitement was short lived as the authorities told her that the seats were filled and she would have to try next year.

Savitri set her goal for the entire year. It was to prepare Ayushi for this elite school. She decided to leave no stone unturned to make Ayushi the appropriate fit for it. Many lend their hand in her entire year’s quest, our neighbor tutored Ayushi every evening and helped her with every subject, my mum helped Ayushi speak grammatically correct English with the correct diction, my father gave his letter of reference and monitory help whenever required.

By the end of the year, I was preparing my shift to Sydney with my husband, I would occasionally meet Ayushi and she would surprise me every time with her new learning. Finally the D day came. I was talking to mum on Skype and Savitri interrupted by asking me to pray that all goes well. Ayushi, gave a very good interview, the selection committee was impressed with her, since she was residing within the 1 km radius of the school this added to her favour. The next day the big news came, Ayushi, was selected to start studying in Raghubir Singh Junior Modern School. A prominent school of New Delhi, for which parents lobbied extensively to get their kids admitted. Add to the absolute joy was the fact that she would be educated free of cost throughout her schooling and all her expenses related to academics would be borne by the school.

Today, Savitri is a proud mother; Ayushi, in her own sentences looks forward to study in the school where there are beautiful swings and lovely gardens to play. Ayushi’s tutor our neighbor can’t stop smiling on her pupil’s achievement. My parents and I are delighted and are very happy for Savitri’s family. Above all, we are thankful to this wonderful act by the government that aided to fulfill this mother’s dream and none of us misses any opportunity to narrate this tale of success!

 

Able or Disable?

One Sunday morning, when I decided to get up a little early (defied the implicit law of waking late on holidays) I decided to do some channel surfing and stopped at a channel to see ‘Satyamev Jayate’ a show gaining extreme popularity. The topic of discussion was how disability is treated in India. The entire show was intriguing and thought provoking. A lazy Sunday morning and a very hard hitting show did not gel with my lethargy, but it helped me rekindling an amazing experience of my life. Soon after I got married I joined my husband in London, UK and was searching for suitable job opportunities. I came across a job on linked in and sent my resume for consideration. After few days I received a letter from the organization’s technology head - Henry Osaka (name changed) showcasing an interest in my profile. The first round was telephonic and I interacted with a very high spirited voice with an extremely infectious laugh. We walked through my resume and he surprised me by mentioning he had read each and every blog of mine and quoted my writings in his conversation. I heard him spell bound when he spoke about the company and their vision, in simple words I was super impressed and was smitten in the first conversation. After progressing couple of rounds, finally a meeting invite came across my way - a face to face conversation with this vivacious voice . The day, date and venue was fixed and we both looked forward to meet each other. On a bright monday morning with great enthusiasm I embarked my journey to the desired venue. I was mentally preparing myself for the interview and had all my transcripts sorted. Once reaching the company’s office I enquired at the concierge and was asked to take a seat and wait for him. While waiting, the receptionist was all praises for Henry. She thought he was a thorough gentleman and had the amazing capability to inspire people around him. After a few minutes of wait, a familiar voice called my name, I turned around in the direction of the voice to see the man i was supposed to meet. There in the long corridor, stood a motorized wheelchair and on that sat the man I was supposed to meet. He had exceptionally small limbs and was breathing through a pipe connected to a portable oxygen cylinder. With his small hands he steered the wheelchair towards me and greeted me with his ever friendly voice. For a moment feeling of surprise swept me. We exchanged pleasantries and he guided me to a meeting room, I followed him through the corridors as he traversed them with ease and greeted all the passers by - fellow colleagues. After we were seated inside the meeting room, swiftly he placed his laptop on his lap and started the conversation. His fingers moved fast and though he had to strain his neck to see the laptop screen, it seemed effortless. During our conversation, I got to know he drove to work, enjoyed cooking and participated in events with a social cause. Seeing Henry seated besides me the feeling of pathos or compassion never came. On the other hand, feelings of respect and high regard kept creeping in. In no sense could I term him disable, for me he was more able than many. Holding a key position in a prestigious organization, leading a normal life and smiling his way past the challenges life had thrown on him. As a spectator there didn’t seem any deterrent to his life. The reason it seemed, Henry with his will power had made sure that the hindrances he faces in his day to day activity never come in limelight, rather his work, his perseverance and his jovial nature stay in the forefront. I recollect when I came back home one of my friend had asked how was the interview? I had no answer for this as honestly it was no longer important if I got the job or not but it was more an honour to meet in person Henry Osaka - whose mundane day was truly inspirational.        

Raju ban gaya Gentleman!!

As I began my new job, I was weighing my options for the commute. My search ended with the Route No 2 bus. The first evening when I boarded the bus I was welcomed by a young lad with a warm smile. “New to the bus Madam, which place will you get down?” he questioned me. I was amazed to hear the fluency in his speech for a foreign language, and furnished him with the necessary details.  As time for the departure came close, the bus was filled by young professionals’ chirpy talks. After a minute of hustle bustle and settling we embarked for our journey. At the first red light, the young lad took out his set of books and turned around with enthusiasm. Promptly, the girls sitting nearby hurriedly scanned the books and enquired about his latest progress. Apparently, every evening on the way back home the care taker of this bus is taught English by the passengers. The entire route is filled with chatter related to verbs, tenses and subjects used in English language. The lad has an incessant endeavor to speak correct with the perfect diction. Each day he comes up with a new doubt and each day brings a new learning. It is extremely rewarding to see this young boy’s zeal to learn something new and it is equally good to see professionals after a long day having the patience to teach something new. This makes me realize a very important fact of life that education does not require any high end buildings and funds what it truly requires is a desire to learn and the will to teach.

Sensitivity over Sense

Due to the volatile nature of memory, it is hard to retain all incidences of life in one’s mind. A search in the repertoire of one’s memory shows the planned, strategized and dogmatic happenings are less vivid, then the spontaneous, spur of the moment experiences, where the heart took the decision and the brain took the back seat. Scene by scene picture by picture they are stored in our brain cells. Perhaps, the elaborate storage of such incidences acts as a constant reminder to the mind that not always it rules our decisions. There is an organ below it who sometimes pulls the reins and accomplishes a task completely oblivion to the mind’s assessment of pros and cons. One cherishes such moments, speaks about them with pride and sense of achievement. I write about such an incident where the heart ruled the head, sensitivity prevailed over sense.

While mum was pursuing her graduation. Winters had hit the city very hard. Extreme weather conditions were in the forecast and the mercury just refused to rise. One morning when ma was leaving for her college, a scantily clad old man stopped her. In between the intervals of his shivers, he told her, he was extremely cold and wanted something to warm him. Without second thoughts ma hurried upstairs caught hold of her comforter and came down to wrap this around him. The man received more comfort from ma’s deeds than from her comforter he blessed her and walked away. Ma’s friends and her relatives have narrated this to me many times. I see pride and respect in the eyes of her near and dear ones when they recount the episode. For ma this was an instantaneous act where she listened to her heart and her head had to bow down. For me it is a lesson to be more liberal in the usage of my heart and definitely a soul stirring experience to hear a benevolent deed by my very own mother.

The Circle of Life

This morning when I picked up a Hindi daily as I sipped my morning tea, two stories placed on the front page greeted me. The top headline gave details of the sad demise of Ghazal Maestro - Jagjit Singh, the man who gave words and music to many emotions felt. Who popularized, ‘Tum ko dekha to yeh khyal aaya’ as the eternal love song and made us shed a tear for ‘Chitti na koi sandesh’. Seeing his smiling photograph made me miss the voice with which I and likes of me related ghazals with. My mind hummed while my eyes scanned through the list of his renditions. As I was about to end the list of unforgettable ghazals, I saw the face of a cherubic little boy with a very lovable and confident smile. The newspaper had given this little one a miniscule corner but the words read boldly ‘Jaipur greets the winner of Saregamapa Little Champs 2011 – Azmat Hussain’. Apparently, this little boy a power house of talent had won hearts and accolades for his impeccable singing talent, eventually winning the title with unanimous approval from all over India. People had poured in hundreds, to greet their new and emerging star. Azmat, was quoted as saying that it would be his tenacious efforts to entertain people with his singing. With a sign! I sat back and smiled, true this is the circle of life - When one journey ends the other embarks. With a voice fading and another emerging one truly agrees to Queen’s popular number – ‘The Show Must Go On’.      

Bring the Change

This morning, while surfing a social networking site, I was amazed to see a video post showcasing a protest at my previous work location. Hundreds of young professionals wearing crisp shirts, well creased trousers and ID badges around their neck were shouting slogans supporting an anti corruption movement and ridiculing the current political situation of India. At the first instance, this seemed a wave of change, a radical step against corruption, a ray of hope and above all unified youth of India. However, my mind could not resist raising some questions for these protestors – How many of them have shown strictest refrain from bribing a traffic cop when a traffic rule was broken by them? Who out of them had never given false rental receipts and medical bills to invade annual taxes? How many would out rightly reject a tempting bribe offer if it comes their way? If the answer is none - then our country has stocks of such honest men and women and they can certainly make a difference. Unfortunately, that is not the case, we all have sometime or the other been part of this corrupt system and have not felt guilty about it. A change is definitely required and an effective change will truly be a revolution. Sadly, a constructive change is not apparent from the current situation. I do see updates by people every second showcasing extreme support for, Anna Hazare, but am yet to see a single update of a pledge never to give or take bribe and lead a life of strong ethics and morals. Any anti corruption bill that is passed would have its own share of loop holes which could be tampered for the benefits of the corrupt. So to hunt a solution, I started listening to all the motivational speeches that are doing rounds these days. Read what many had to speak and their take on corruption. One sentence that impressed, inspired and motivated me was spoken by Sri Sri Ravi Shankar – To bring a change in society, bring the change in you first, automatically the society will change. Definitely this peaceful and hassle free method is worth a try – bring the change in yourself.

A walk down the memory lane!!

A short trip to Amsterdam, turned to be a trip down the memory lane. With few free hours in hand, a map at our disposal, we became the accidental tourists and started scanning the map for tourist destinations. As my eyes went thru the map with guidance by my index finger, I came across, 'The Anne Frank House'.  

A flashback started running in my mind on an instant basis. I was reminded of the time when I had first laid my hands on the book, ' The Diary of Anne Frank'. I was about to enter my teens then and like Anne, felt I had grown big and had new found love for my independence and 'private space'. My life was also welcoming secret crushes and I had a sudden concern for my looks and appearances. It was an instant love for the book. As I proceeded, I was to read a first hand experience of a jewish family in the world war 2 and their travails. With further reading, how I wished and prayed the safety of this family, but all in vain. Anne's family hid in a secret annex, from the Germans, they were eventually discovered and sent to concentration camps. Anne died there, her father survived and discovered the diaries. He later publish them. Millions like me read this and realized, that Human rights are the most essential birth rights of every individual, and should be enjoyed by all.  

'The Anne Frank House' was immediately circled by me and the tram route to the house was studied. Freezing winds, temperature in negative and an eternal wait for the tram did not dampen my spirit. The house was a straight walk from the tram station, in the native language '6 dams away'. As we walked, My husband lend his ears to my  endless jabber on the memories of the book and how it inspired me to start with my own diary. Yes, true enough I had started writing a diary too, penning my insignificant day activities which were of extreme significance at that time. My brother, would occasionally open the lock of the diary with my hair pin with as much ease as if he had the key. He would then take my case royally by giving me the look ' I know all you secrets'. Eventually, after a couple of months later we both weaned out of our new found habit, he got bored reading the gibberish of a new teen and I got bored writing it down. When we were 2 dams away, I also narrated the tale that I along with my girlfriends had built a secret annex, chamber to be more precise on our terrace, its roof was made from the old bed sheets from our house and the walls were made from our mum's old sarees. We imagined, it to be our refuge from the rest of the world, where we could have our secret meetings, secretly we wanted to experience Anne's way of living in our own way.

With all dams crossed, we saw the board that directed the tourist to the Anne Frank House.The streets were relatively free of crowd owing to a chilly day, but as we approached the house a long serpentine line of tourist  welcomed us, All had one motto, to see the Anne Frank House. While we stood in the line and waited for our turn, I was amazed with the mass appeal this book had. People from different cultures, different societies, different ethnicity and different background all waiting patiently to see the house where the little girl spent the last few years of her life. This not only showcased the immense popularity the book has enjoyed over the years, but also strengthened the fact that all of us believed in Human rights and were united in its cause. After a long wait, when we got the chance to enter the house, I felt I had come there before. Anne Frank's amazing power of description thru words, made all the readers, like me feel familiar to the secret annex. As we climbed the narrow staircases, it was very heart rendering that there was no iota of sunshine and the place was a complete disconnect from the outside world. Some of Anne's words still rankle in my mind. She stated many at times her desire to be a free bird and go out in the open, sadly the basic right of freedom was devoid to her and her family. I also remember reading in her diary her desire to be a journalist one day and write for human rights. Alas, she could not fulfill this, but her diary has been an inspiration for many a journalist in today's times and shall be for many in the making. Also, her story has inspired many to fight for their rights. As for me, though I never continued writing my diary but definitely Anne Frank's diary left an indelible mark on my tender mind and made writing my best way of expressing my thoughts and inner feelings.As a reader I would like to say that Anne, your dream to write for human rights is being lived by so many who got inspired by you and many more shall take inspiration from you. Your dream definitely lives on!       

My Big 'Fat' Indian Wedding with all very 'Thin'

As the wedding approaches, Thanks to both the families revenue is generated for many cities. The ‘sareewala’ is happy, the jeweler is all smiles, the tailor has tremendous workload and critical deadlines to meet and the printing press has a bulk order of many cards to print. Amidst this, the last laugh is by the fitness and health centers all over the world (at least parts of the world where our family and friends reside). Welcome to my wedding preparations, where loosing those extra inches seems equally important as buying a new saree. Flat tummy holds more appreciation then a Versace suit and toned legs are admired more than the pointed stilettos. So while few are flexing their muscles in the gym, some are shaking a leg or two in their Zumba classes. Couple of them prefer yoga for the mind body and soul, some like to match up to the steps of Shilpa Shetty and her power yoga while many prefer the morning walk and the cool breeze. The groom and the bride are also not spared, specific circuits are given to both the aim to loose few inches here and to gain a few there. Oil and ghee and cheese are being avoided like plague, while fruits and green leafy vegetables are being embraced. K serial is the new munching snack and luke warm water is replacing cocktails and mocktails. The net result is astounding; the flabs have beautifully changed to six pack abs. The mother of two is now the ‘sexy’ mother of two. The 40+ women easily fit into their old wedding lehengas. The ‘XL’ shirt sizes are being miraculously replaced by the magic letter ‘S’. All the new mummies are flaunting their flat tummies. The friend with puppy fat is the new babe in town and glowing skin seems to simply run in the genes. I don’t know will the fitness regimes last after the first dawn post my wedding but one thing is for sure all shall surely relish the culinary delights of an Indian wedding without the guilt pangs.

Who Stole The Cookie from the Cookies Jar?

Chorus : Who stole the cookie from the cookies jar ?

Miss Z : I think it is Miss X Madam.

Miss X : I Madam.

Chorus : Yes Madam.

Miss X : No Madam.

Chorus : Then who do you think Madam ?

Miss X : I think it is Miss Y Madam.

Miss Y : I Madam.

Chorus : Yes Madam.

Miss Y : No Madam.

Chorus : Then who do you think Madam ?

Miss Y : I think it is Miss G Madam.

…………….

………………………………

This iteration I recited with a group of my girlfriends while waiting for the school bus with clapping of hands and snapping of fingers giving the required rhythm.

The idea was simple, a hypothetical cookie jar had a missing cookie and everyone was questioning who stole it. When someone was suspected, she instantaneously defended herself by suspecting someone else and the game endlessly continued with the mystery of the thief still lingering on. The mystery died its own death with the arrival of the bus. Ironic enough the game was subtly teaching a very wrong practice of our society – The Blame Game. Anytime something goes wrong or just looses track simply all stand up and start playing this game, where the idea is to save oneself and put the blame on another. The output is plenty of hue and cries, but alas no consensus result. The problem is forgotten with some damages, faulty and quick repairs and life moves on. CWG fiasco, Bhopal Gas Tragedy are some examples which came into limelight of this dirty game we play. Not only in such large canvass but this blame game comes into existence in mundane times too. Rarely do we see someone standing up and taking the onus of the problem and pledging to resolve it. Errors are a part and parcel of life, after all to ‘Err is Human’. Ideally problems should be repaired at an early stage and not left to accumulate and cause havoc. In the non – ideal world that we live in alas! This is not the norm. The problem comes it is neglected and kept hidden from others. Such petty neglected problems build up and their ripples start showing it is then when the favorite game of mankind is played - blaming others and proving one innocent. If we enjoy taking the credit of a triumph we should also be responsible enough to suffer the travail of a nuisance. Washing dirty linen during crisis may be satisfactory for one’s ego but doesn’t really lead to any satisfactory result. I hope in times to come little girls round up to play this game but with some alteration as in

Chorus : Who stole the cookie from the cookies jar ?

Miss Z : I think it is Miss X Madam.

Miss X : I Madam.

Chorus : Yes Madam.

Miss X : No Madam.

Chorus : Then who do you think Madam?

Miss X : Forget the thief lets get together and bake the missing cookie Madam.

A Tale of Two Cities

Never the latitudes and the longitudes played a pivotal role in my life. For me, they were just another lesson in my elementary geography course. Learnt one day, poured in the paper the next day and forgotten later on. My change in relationship status from single to committed has made me suddenly more aware of the global time zones and the technicalities involved in trying to talk to someone on a different time zone. The process that I followed earlier to see what time it is has few more additional steps. I subtract 4.5 hrs from the current Indian time and mentally figure if the daylight saving has started or not in London.

I have realized, it is not political boundaries nor race neither religion nor culture that divide the world but the segregation is according to the time one follows. It is the world of ESTians, CSTians, ISTians , GMTians etc. People in the same time zone follow the same routine. They wake up approximately at the same time, their work hours are almost parallel and their leisure time coincides with each other. An alliance among people in the same time zone set is the most convenient, easiest and beautiful one. The trouble is for those who are from two different sets trying to make their courtship as memorable as can be. I am in the latter category who would like to modify the line ‘Distance makes heart go fonder’ to ‘Distance makes connecting with one another longer’.

The communication more seems like the one we experimented as kids, with two cans attached to one another with a string. The excitement is the same, as the kid at each end experiences just the difference is that the string is the internet the two cans are my ThinkPad and his Mac respectively. The glitches faced to connect are paramount, or they seem to be. When the free time coincides, the internet slows down, if the net is fast, a sudden power failure happens. Each glitch acts as the new age villain for us. Skype seems the only savior amongst the baddies. I am sure the idea to have a technology like Skype must have germinated in the mind of those who were in the same boat as me.

Time Zones, not only act as deterrents for two people in love but also as the world goes flatter in terms of work and the concept of cloud computing steps in, arranging a meeting when the team is widely distributed around the globe can be havoc for the chairperson. Picture this, how to coordinate the perfect time for people to meet on a web conference when one sits in Australia, the other in India, one in UK and one somewhere in USA. So mostly in such web conference you have a chirpy person about to start the day, a drowsy individual fighting the mid afternoon siesta and a tired person waiting to call it a day. I am unaware how to rectify the problem. A remedial solution does not seem to be there, as hampering of earth’s rotation is still not viable. The only thing I can tell my sweetheart is no matter what, lets just ‘Stay Connected’.

When will we decide to kill the Raavan inside us?

If a new movie comes to theatres, I would watch it on the subsequent Saturday. More than a hobby, it has become a ritual for me. Not going by what the critics have to say, or the ratings the film receives. I am there to watch it and form my own opinion on it. Sometimes, its worth the money spent and sometimes, it is a pinch for every penny spent.

Recently, I saw two movies Rajneeti and Ravaan and found a striking similarity. Both have been inspired by India’s two great epics Mahabharata and Ramayana respectively. Both bring in the essence of these stories in today’s world. This leads to an amazing realization, over the ages in our dynamic and ever-changing world, one thing has remained static - The Human Nature.

In every era, people have shown traits of Ram or impersonated Ravan. Amidst us, there is always a power hungry Duryodhan and an ever plotting Shakuni, a helping friend like Karan, a righteous man like Yudhishthar. The silent suffering Sita and the emancipated Draupadi walk in tandem in our society. Like the predicament, Arjun faced in the battlefield of Mahabharata, we all have our shares of testing times and we all have a mentor like Krishna to give us solace.

For centuries, these epics have been recited in various forms and are an integral part of our society and culture. Thanks to BR Chopra and Ramanand Sagar, we all have these epics in our memory cell scene by scene, episode by episode. We all know that while Ramayana showcases an ideal life, Mahabharata on the other hand shows how to perform ideal actions in not so ideal circumstances.

Yet it is a pity, we have still not been able to imbibe the values and morals the two highlight in totality. The entire crowd gives a standing ovation when Ram’s arrow hits Ravan’s naval at the Ramleela grounds, but we are yet to kill the Ravan inside us. We all despise Dushasan for insulting Draupadi and ill-treating her, but how many Dushasan go scot free in our society after committing horrendous crimes against women. We admire the words of wisdom quoted in these texts but fail to implement them in our lives. I think it high time instead of applauding various narrations of Ramayana and Mahabharata we should start absorbing the lessons they teach.

What's Your Attitude?

I usually hear statements form all corners speaking about attitude. If I illustrate some, the famous ‘Wear your Attitude’ or ‘Attitude is everything’ or the very motivating ‘Attitude makes Altitude’. Ruminating over this topic brings just one question in my mind, what kind of attitude do these lines suggest? What kind of attitude should I build? Should it have elements of arrogance in it or humility? Do I put in it traces of sweetness or curtness, a welcoming attitude or a distancing one? Ingredients are many but the perfect recipe is a mystery. A simple and easy practice I decided to follow is the Attitude of Gratitude. The beauty is in its simplicity. I do not have to exert myself for this; neither do I need to make tall claims. I just need to practice one thing and that is gratitude. Instead of cribbing sessions, I practice the thank you sessions. Instead of regretting what is not with me, I cherish what I have. I try to make it a point to thank god for the beautiful gift called the day that he gifts me every morning. Avoiding those that bring negativities in my life and indulging in the things that bring a feel good factor in me helps me increase my list of gratitude. Mourning on relations that turned sour is what I have stopped,treasuring the relations that have nurtured through time is what I practice. Regret has taken a back seat rejuvenation is in the forefront. Despondency has evaporated delight has settled in. This simple philosophy has a very long lasting and fruitful effect and has made me realize that appreciation and thankfulness are truly the key for joyful living.

A Forgotten Relation

One thing is certain, Indian mornings are always chaotic. While the kids and their dads get ready hurriedly, the mums rush in all household chores. If this is not enough for the nerves, well then you have an irritant ‘the constant buzz of the door bell’ - The newspaper person, then the car cleaner, then the cleaning ‘bai’ etc. Much has not changed from my days as a kid, but I do miss one individual amongst this frenzied morning atmosphere the ‘doodhwala’ or the milkman.

He was always peculiarly dressed. Clad in messy and about to tear apart dhoti, a contrasting sparkling white kurta and black mojries adorning his feet. A red cotton cloth called gamcha was always with him, the most multipurpose apparel I had seen. He would sling it around his neck while pouring the white liquid in the container and then tie it around his head when he was ready to leave. This could wipe Spilled milk efficiently and sweat during peak summers. Rajdoot was the official carrier of all the milkmen in town, with noise loud and clear to make us all aware of the arrival. Our milkman’s education level was rudimentary but he still applied the laws of physics very well by balancing the level of milk in each container stationed either sides of his bike to prevent any fall. A daily ritual he used to pour a fixed amount of milk in the container and if we wanted any change in the quantity prior notification was must. Mum used to take the milk and dutifully write the amount taken adjacent to the date in the calendar hanging in her kitchen. In the end, the doodhwala’s bill was tallied with the jotted readings on the calendar. While this was checked, his words were enough to accept the purity of the milk poured. It was the most peculiar relationship where trust and suspicion went in tandem.

The quality of the milk was never questioned on seeing the viscosity of the liquid or the cream it produced on boiling but by any deterioration of health or delay in the increase of height in the household kids. Another constant threat to the precious milk was that did the milkman mix water in it and if yes hopefully not tap water. To this, the milkman in his theatrical best use to tell ma that he shall give up milking cows and go to the himalyas if water was ever found in his milk. In addition, if one day the cow was sick or the milk man got late in milking it we had to do away with powder milk that came in the most repulsive package and was equally repulsive in taste. We shared Joys and sorrows with him. He got new kurta and mithai on festivals and joyous occasions and a lending ear for his sorrows. He brought special ghee for us sometimes stating it was good for the brain during exams.

Today, I see a completely new milkman emerging, he no longer runs pillar to post to sell his milk. He has contracts with dairies and large corporations who buy his cow’s entire yield. In addition, we have succumbed to convenience by having tie ups with the nearby grocer to provide us packaged pasteurized milk. 24 hours availability, improved quality and convenience are felt, but the bond between the household and the doodhwala, two entities from completely different lifestyles, has dwindled away.

SHARP

Hardly a day passes by when the morning dailies are not carrying the news of road accidents in various parts of Jaipur and its periphery. Sad but true every household in Jaipur has a horrifying tale to tell about a road accident. Worse still the number of households who have seen a death of a near and dear one due to this is rising at an alarming rate. The time has come when quick and efficient measures must be taken to curb such mishaps. It’s a common practice whenever such incidences take place on roads Hue and cry is generated, Blame game is played, court cases run for many years altogether and ultimately maybe or maybe not compensation is given to the grieving party. Is this right? Is this justified? How about a different course of action taken altogether? How about learning from these misfortunes, Taking corrective and effective measures to make the roads safer? Making our city’s roads harbinger for connecting people with one another and not paths of tragedies and sorrow. Just like multivitamins can build resistance from various viruses, in a similar way precautions taken before embarking your journey on roads can lead to you creating antibodies for your self to fight the dangerous virus called ‘accident’. What I write further are probably things which is known by all but I repeat them in this article with an aim that the reader inculcates them not only in his/her knowledge repository called mind but also in daily practices while driving. The practices I pen down have been given a sobriquet as SHARP. I strongly feel that these small tips can sharply swing you to a safer path and avoid disasters. S (Seat Belt) H (Helmet) A (Alertness) R (Rules) P (Perfection)

Seat Belt - Seat belts and car seats save lives if they are used properly and at all times. Statistical data empirically verify that people killed in most of the fatal accidents were unrestrained. Seat belts must be used all the times, not just when you see the police round the corner. They are for your protection and safety and can be your savior if god forbids a crash takes place. Mostly it is seen that people wear seat belts on the city road for the fear of a fine than for the fear of an accident. Highways were there is no check, the seat belts are immediately removed on the contrary this is the place where their usage is a must.

Helmet - Jaipur city is hometown for many two wheelers and during road accidents where a two wheeler is involved the head usually succumbs to injuries. Wearing a helmet has been shown to decrease the risk and severity of injuries among motorcyclists. Its benefits are tremendous and the only detriment that I see in it is that it spoils your hair. But it is far simpler to brush your hair than injuries. Helmet is not only essential for the driver but also the pillion driver who is equally at risk when an accident takes place.

Alertness - Drinking and driving do not go hand in hand at all. With this combination you are not only risking your life but life of other people as well. Its proven medically that your senses and reflex actions slow down when there is alcohol content in the body. Alertness is very essential on the road as anything can happen anytime. Next time you take a drink make sure you have some non drinker to take you home.

Rules – Jumping traffic lights, ignoring stop signs, exceeding the speed limit is done casually by us. In the urgency to reach our destination we forget the importance of adhering to traffic rules and the serious ramifications this can have. Traffic rules are simple to follow and help in organizing the traffic, as well as prevent accidents. Next time when you are jumping traffic light think of your own safety you will never bend the rule then.

Perfection – Driving is an art which should be known very well before you venture out. Go thru the proper channels to get your license. Give proper test and make sure you are at the right age before you sit behind the wheel. As a Parent discourage amateur drivers on the road. These simple things if kept in mind and in action by all can make our roads safe and our ride pleasurable. Next time when you hit on the road bear these in mind.

Log on to the site http://www.muskaanonroad.org/

At Home Working

When work from home (WFH) came my way. It brought along a series of mixed reactions. My Parents thought this was a subtle way of the company to make me redundant. Work from home will gradually become work for home was their fear. The educationalists in my circle were thrilled, as they saw an opportunity for me to prepare for higher studies. The newbie mothers, were jealous, they so wanted this option. As for me, I was too busy adjusting to the new working environment for thoughts to prevail.

WFH is an extremely prevalent concept in the west. The idea behind this is that the employee stays at home and logs in the companies network using a mobility client. Once in the network one is able to do work in the same way, as one would have done sitting on the office desk. Myriad of tools, supporting web dialogue providing audio, video and desktop sharing options help create a virtual conference room. The beauty of these virtually created meetings is this that the interaction seems face to face. The web enabled tools and applications allow you to login from anywhere and at anytime. Online trainings and seminars help you to be up to date with all the recent advances in your field.

It is a win-win situation for all. While the employer saves on office space, the employee escapes from the travails of long commutes that have become inevitable in today’s metros. On personal grounds, even after clocking in 9-10 hours a day for work and sometimes more, time is no longer a constraint for me. I have ample of time at my disposal to pursue my personal interests. The best outcome from this is, that the parameter to rate me as an employee is solely my performance and my timely results. Sycophancy, long ideal work hours to impress the boss and indulgence in office gossips no longer come into picture. Of course, I do miss the water cooler talks and the team lunches but the pros overshadow the cons in this situation.

An idyllic condition as it seems, definitely has its own teething problems and gives occasional hiccups. Power cuts, fluctuating bandwidth, slow upload and download speeds, insufficient backups are the main deterrents. If, we overcome these problems then it will be a blessing for millions. IT industry would be able to increase its reach in the interiors of the country without much investment on space. The job market will open for many women professionals, who left their budding career to start family. Opportunities will arise for the physically challenged who find it tough to commute on a daily basis. The power of work from home is available to all; it is on our discretion to unleash it.

Parallel Thinking

While I was growing up in the neighborhoods of Delhi and Jaipur, there was one common advice ‘Get into a professional course, it guarantees a decent job’. My juvenile mind could not figure out the complete definition of the term ‘professional course’, it seemed from further elaboration of the advices that these courses were the ones centered on subjects in the fields of medicine and engineering. These pieces of advices were justified, because of the fact that my growing years were also the years where our country embarked on the most successful revolutions of its time the IT revolution, of the truth that those were the days when extensive privatization of health care was taking place and hospitals and clinics were mushrooming all over.

Amidst these counseling sessions the counselors forgot that they were giving suggestions to the generation who dared to dream, who wanted to chase their passions, even if it meant challenging the traditions, facing all the odds and keeping everything on stake. Success and failure was not in their mind but fulfillment of childhood dreams was of paramount importance. This sudden awareness of ones career path could be the result of the foundation laid by our forefathers, who put the stepping stones for an economy with opportunities, the credit also goes to the newbie entering the professional arena who had the guts to deviate from the routine path and create corridors in the economy which were not only chic but became the source of inspiration for many.

A feeling of pride creeps in when I see the bright guys and girls from my school becoming entrepreneurs, rubbing shoulders with corporate giants while striking a deal. It gives me pleasure to see my handsome and pretty ex-classmates advertising products, playing a character on popular shows or movies, enjoying their moments of fame. I enjoy watching plays crafted on low budgets from my friends who are determined to make theatre as popular in India as Broadway is in USA. My head bangs and foot taps to the beats of a band whose inception took place in the garage of our colony and now have an album to their credit. I am in awe when I go to visit an art exhibition displaying the talent, hard-work, creative genius and the rebellious nature of my friend whose passion is her profession. My body is in a state of bliss when I eat out in a restaurant offering cuisines never tasted before, started by my peer. I salute the ones who entered civil services and armed forces from our batch not for the lure of power but to do something for the society and the nation. I respect the social activist amongst us, contributing subtly but effectively to the society in general. My admiration for the ones, who ventured in alternative sources of energy and are finding effective, eco friendly and innovative ways of generating energy for our ever growing demands.

The perfect blend of opportunities innovative thinking and the dare to dream passionately has resulted many to take the alternative route. Of course it is not always hunky dory in these parallel routes but the main principle these classmates of mine survive on is the fact that the biggest risk is not to take the risk.

It is very important for such alternative professions and professionals to thrive in an economy it not only allows variety to the palette but also helps give a wider spectrum for the economy and the nation to grow on the whole. In these days and times, jobs and services are defying political and geographical boundaries in their movement. This movement is not driven by compassion or credentials and creditability, but by labor cost and profitability. With such radical changing nature of jobs, offbeat professions, innovation, adaptability, collaborating and risk taking individuals should be promoted.

Finely, efficiently and gradually these individuals are creating a niche for themselves. This fact gave me the confidence to smile back when a cab driver in US of A asked me ‘Are you a software engineer from India who is coding the whole day?’ True the smile was an affirmation to his query it also in its own mysterious way said out loud that give some more time you will have clients from India from varied professions.

The Urgency To Grow!!

I happened to see a movie with a very beautiful girl who looked extremely familiar. A close scrutiny of her looks made me realize that she was the same little girl I had seen as a toddler on the big screen. I was aware that not many years had passed since I last saw her. I was equally aware that in these years my appearance never had any radical change, apart from the increased waistline. I grew at a systematic rate abiding with the laws of nature. This little girl had turned into a lady overnight. Suddenly the admiration of her looks changed into pity. Had she lost the most glorious period of life christened Childhood? Did she get to enjoy reading Enid Blyton, Sweet Valley’s and so on? Have secret crushes when she was a teenager? Attend slumber parties? And that made me ask a question to myself, for the sake of quick money and fame, are we killing the most beautiful trait in a child ‘Innocence’.

Why as the thinking populace, we enjoy watching shows where kids are eliminated every week? Why is their talent judged by the number of votes coming to them? Why do we make them enter the cruel world of competition, when their age is to develop harmony and collective living? I understand that a baby product requires a baby in its advertisement. Why do we need to use kids for products not even pertaining to their age? One ponders on the thought; could this quick growing of children be the reason for high rates of adolescent crimes? I stumbled on a quotation once ‘Children are one third of our population and all of our future’. It is our moral responsibility to nurture them, love them, teach them, cajole them and make them righteous. It will be extremely wrong on our part to expect a sapling give us fruits when it itself requires the love and care to grow into a tree.

Agreed limelight has its own pros and cons. Fame and fortune has improved the lives of many youngsters, for illustrations consider the case of the kids featured in Slumdog Millionaire. It’s a case of rags to riches. They have been enrolled in schools. Their entire education is being funded by the director and the producers of the movie and then a travel to Los Angles to attend Oscars. For them the real life is becoming like the reel life, such serendipitous success should not be the reason for the alarming increase of little girls visiting beauty salons and getting treatments done which can have adverse effects. It should not be the impetus for boys taking protein supplements from a very young age. In my opinion, will of parents cannot be forced on a child. Rather as a parent you should help your child grow as an individual, who is able to judge right and wrong. An individual who is able to decide what career road to select, after enacting roles of doctor, teacher, man in uniform etc in the games played in his/her childhood. Certainly not an individual whose, memories of childhood is just the urgency to grow up.


This article was published in the news paper daily The Hindu's metro plus Banglore edition on 17th March 2009.
http://www.hindu.com/mp/2009/03/17/stories/2009031750630400.htm

FOOAB(Fresh Out Of A Boat)

If you pronounce ‘Meijers’ with a ‘J’ sound in the middle, and the number of days that you have been in USA can be counted on your finger tips. Welcome to the group FOOAB (Fresh out of a boat). We are either sent by our companies to work for interim time or here to pursue higher studies. Whatever the reason, we have many traits in common and our experiences are also similar. I illustrate some incidences. I am sure if a fellow FOOAB is reading he/she will be able to relate to them, if a NON- FOOAB is reading then just have fun at our expense.

It all starts with the landing of the flight on the runway. After wasting precious 14 hrs of your life on lousy movies and even lousier food, the flight stewardess welcomes you to United States of America in the most sugar coated and honey dipped voice. As if the journey was not long enough you have to wait in the plane aisle, then in the immigration queue and then at the baggage claim. When your legs start giving up and your body just wants to melt away from the discomfort your bag arrives. It is the biggest, the heaviest and you have no one to help. With extensive participation in heavy weight lifting, you head for your destination, a motel which apparently was showcased as the most luxurious and extravagant stay on the internet, suddenly is the most inconvenient and horrible place to live.

You are clueless where to go for as simple a thing as your breakfast. If you thought your English was perfecto, the illusion fades away soon when you have to comprehend the colloquial words and the regional accents spoken at the speed faster than light. Sometimes you just nod your head in affirmation when the guy at the counter maybe inquiring about something. Once in the room as a true Indian you scan the entire room and pick all the gadgets, read everything written on them, even the voltages that the product is susceptible to. With this extensive research and a Wendy’s half cooked, eaten in haste burger in stomach you fall off to sleep.

From next morning the tenacious efforts to get settled begins. Amidst this home sickness starts showing its symptoms. A calling card becomes the only suitable medicine to nip it in the bud. The family is contacted and zillion important numbers are exchanged, to be used incase of emergency. You cut the phone happy and relieved. The brain calculating the phone bill. Multiply with 40 no wait dollar is now I think 49 oh Crap!! That is tough calculation hmm!! Approximately guess its 300 spent on the call nothing in front of having a word with the family, will save from the next time. Saving!! Baby this is just the beginning, saving never happens. Murphy’s Law plays on you, you start swiping your card faster than the local colloquial speech. Next in agenda you head start for a venture that has been termed as ‘Apartment Hunting’. Thanks to the internet you have an idea where do you want to go. You navigate the cab thru almost empty roads, while the thought is building in your mind how come the roads are empty. The cab driver suddenly says. Damit! The Traffic!

After a smooth drive you reach the leasing office where the lady awaits you with your lease agreement. Her mood is that of a person high on Coke, extra chirpiness for no rhyme or reason. She will welcome you to the neighborhood as if you are a war hero returning after a victory. You will be told all the housing laws the apartment complex has in two minutes. While you will be contemplating asking a doubt for the second law Olalla!! She will be on the 100th. Then the prized moment will arrive she will hand you over the keys. The keys are not one or two but a bunch. The first time you enter the apartment you will be trying all the permutations to get the correct key for the correct lock. Believe me all through your tenure you will never be able to get success in the first try. Next, you play with the check list. Initial grocery done. Essential household gizmos bought. Cable guy came and installed the internet. Suitcase filled with ready to cook, pulses, rice and masalas opened and set. Ultimately Maggi 2 minutes cooked and eaten.

Then at work you do the paper work and send faxes all over informing your arrival. The feeling creeps in, let me just get my arrival published in a daily newspaper will save time and resources. A colleague of yours enters. He/She tells you 1000 things more to be done to achieve the ‘Settled’ tag. Nittie Grittie are told and scribbled by you. Bank account is opened, SSN docs submitted, License book bought (Oh my lord!! So much to study it is just driving! I have been doing it for years). Subsequent weeks are spent getting important things in place. U haul being rented to get in the furniture, Heavy heavier completely outrageous stuff carried and walked for more than a mile. With mind pondering why didn’t I try for heavy weight lifting? I am good at it. Craig list site checked every single day to find a good car, oh chuck it! Let me check out the new deals on circuit city. Finally you take a deep breath, you have settled here. You are now acquainted with the slangs, restraunts, stores, brands. You have done it on your own. Confidence level rises, you become I can face any situation kind. The fresh out of boat that you were, is finally well versed with the new land.

Wild Encounters!!

I must mention in the start of this article that I am not much of a wild life buff, but call it chance or destiny or forced will, I always land up inside a wild life sanctuary when I am out on holidays. For every sanctuary I have an anecdote to tell, as every sanctuary had a lesson to teach. The earliest memory of wild life that I can rekindle was when we went to Bharatpur sanctuary, a place famous for its birds, specially the migratory ones. A toddler in my mum’s arms I was unable to spot even a single bird, not because of eyesight problem but because of the fact that whenever the jeep stopped and people looked at a bird with admiration I would be busy either fiddling with something in the jeep or dreaming about fairies in the jungle. Finally when the trip came to an end I realized that I had not even seen a single bird. Many years have passed and I have not got a single chance to visit the sanctuary again. This incident taught me one thing if you have an opportunity grab it, don’t let it go as it may not come back to you.

The next trip was to Sariska. Like wannabe wild life freaks we entered our jeep sporting the best cargos, the best hats and the best glares. All of them had colors well blending with Sariska’s hues. For an hour or so we went around the safari and were forced to show excitement for every deer we saw, out of the zillions that were spotted by us. Later on, when we told the owner of the resort that we were unable to spot a tiger, he convinced us that a tiger visits that resort every single night and you have to wait patiently outside for the wild encounter. As urchins with dreamy eyes we sat all through the night amidst the mosquitoes and temperature which was hot and humid. To kill the boredom and heat we kept taking aerated drinks that the owner sold us at an exorbitant price. Dawn came, sun came, but tiger never came and tired and drowsy we went back home, the owner had the last laugh for fooling us and making surplus profit overnight. Lesson taught: - investments done by hearsay have bleak chances of giving fruitful results.

Few years later bhai came from Canada after a long hiatus, and was very keen to see the rhinos of Kaziranga and we were very keen that he enjoys his trip back home. Bag and baggage the entire family flew to northeast and was in the world of rhinos. We were scheduled to visit the forest in the morning and our mode of transport was the magnificent docile creature the ‘Elephant’. After lots of adjustment and stretching exercises so unfamiliar in the metropolitans we finally sat on it, and went swaying and swinging much like amusement rides. Once deep inside the jungle we spotted many rhinos. You can call it the guard’s stupidity or our naivety our family came extremely close to a rhino that was apparently mother of two. Sensing danger she charged for us, this made the elephant restless. Neither a gunshot fired by the guard in the air nor the one shot on the ground hampered the rhino’s resilience. Finally when we backtracked and were away from her territory she stopped and went back. This made me understand that in order to protect the family one should go that extra mile even if it means fighting with the biggest and the mightiest. The elephant also had a lesson to teach. He was being hit by a stick by his master for every mistake made and whenever the stick fell on the ground he picked it up and gave it back to the master. It was a classic example of how we are rebuked by our seniors and end up losing great jobs or relations because of ego hassles. The mammal taught me that its okay to be spanked by the master once or twice when one makes a mistake. After all this is a learning process and the individual does end up getting the essential fodder for the day and the relaxing mud bath at the end of it all.

If the east showed me a mock charge by a rhino the west showed me Ranthambore the land of tigers. They were so professional when it came to getting snapped that they literally came up with the most elegant poses that made the tourists praise them. With this so subtly they told me that it’s not that bad to be media savvy, or in layman terms if you have the talent flaunt it, then only will you be admired by many.

Last but certainly not least were the king of the jungles, the lions of Gir with a mane so picture perfect and a body that every athlete would die for. They lay lazily in the midsummer afternoon when we went visiting them. So much authority they commanded that even if they were just lying around not positioned for an attack, not hungry from inside, we feared approaching them, we feared clicking photographs. That made me ponder that if one is perfect in one’s ability and is confident about his/her existence he/she fears no one, they will be kept in the highest of esteem.
Out of all these tales of wild the best one is yet to state. When we were just returning back from Gir we saw a hospital for the injured and the sick animals, a lion was circling within the fences of the hospital. Seeing this, a little girl innocently asked her father what had happened to the lion, promptly the father replied he was just sick and tired of seeing humans. We all roared into laughter, but it’s so true and so inhuman to encroach on the animal’s rightful property. I mean don’t we get sick and tired of people who try to invade our privacy and our space.

This article was published in an E magazine Boloji.com,
http://www.boloji.com/memoirs/088.htm on May 05,2007

This article was published in The Times of India Soul Curry Column http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/Lifestyle/Spirituality/Mind-over-Matter/Soul-Curry-Lesson-in-the-wild/articleshow/4683144.cms on June 21, 2009

Future Wise

I remember humming the song ‘whatever will be will be the future is not ours to see’ in my school choir. I feel in these days and times this has a slight deviation, it should be ‘the future is ours to see and for that we charge a fee’.

The ‘we’ that I refer to in the new and improvised version are the zillions of astrologist, numerologist, palmist, face readers, coffee mug readers, tarot card readers etc. In this clan of future predictors, there are few who are thorough with their knowledge and give rightly and just advice to the seeker. Alas! They are outnumbered by the ones who are here to misguide the populace and it is for them I speak. They make you misspell, distort and disorient your name. Make your hands feel alien to your body by forcing you to sport precious gem rings on them. So, Anu becomes Annu and Karishma becomes Karizma. Neelam, Ruby, Panna are forced to be in constant touch with a man as demanded by his wife. Feeding stray animal becomes the order of the day. No wonder the street dog looks healthier than the pet, and the milkman dutifully lets his cows free with the assurance, that they will be fed by someone who needs ‘Gaumata’s’ blessing to pacify his/her stars.

The profession of future predictors has seen an exponential increase. One finds coaching centers teaching these mystic skills spreading all over the city like algae. Hoarding and boards with taglines ‘future ban jayega mast, lets hear your question first’, or maybe something like ‘know your future the idea is bright, just log in to our site’, have become a usual site all over the place. The consultation fee will be 1 followed by zeroes in accordance with the popularity and reliability of the pundit. So, a highly popular one charges 1000 per question while a not so famous one has to do with RS 10 per question for a living. Thanks to conjunctions and other joining words that languages of the world provide the customer makes sure 10 questions are clubbed into one. Such exorbitant charges and no accountability in the income tax department, this surely is the most fruitful profession in today’s times.

The role of a pundit also has to be played with conviction. Clothes that make you look of this era are a strict no-no. The attire should be straight from Ramayana age. Adorn the shades of orange, Footwear should be archaic in style, ‘Khadau’ will be the most suitable option. Accessories should be predominantly ‘Rudraksh’. Bearing this in mind and keeping a calm exterior one can expect to have a huge line of followers.

Lord Krishna thousands of years ago stated in one of the most pious of all books, Bhagvad Gita, that one should not worry about the consequences (fruits), one should just perform one’s duties with the utmost sincerity and dedication. Then why this sudden rise in people’s interest for future. Of course it’s a proven fact that there is always a curiosity of the unknown, but this is also true that the increase in dissatisfaction, lack of self-confidence, disillusionment with life, leads one to approach the astrologist. So do the remedies prescribed by them end bad times? If you do a survey, 90% of the public will speak in affirmation with the sentence but logically speaking these help you preoccupy your mind in your low phase. If we can master the art of snapping our minds from worries and taking success and failure in the same spirit we would never feel the urge to find the future. Instead of the curiosity of what next one should have the contentment of what’s now. With this I do not condemn the act of planning, one should plan the future, by living in the present, not by dreaming about the future. Theoretically every event has a probability and it is you who can alter the probabilities of events thru your own capabilities and not by the effect of precious gems and name distortion. So instead of the pundits conspiring against you to confiscate your finances ponder on the thought by Paulo Coelho wish something and the universe shall conspire to give it to you.

This article was published in an E magazine Boloji.com,
http://www.boloji.com/ramblings/145.htm on Sept 02,2007