Thursday, May 2, 2024

We just gave up - after 13 years and a half

The year was 2000 when I landed in Coimbatore for an interview. I landed in Coimbatore and told uncle who had come to pick me up, it is cold. I still remember that they had placed the chair right in the path of the door at the interview.  Me, coming from warm to very warm Trichy in the month of June, with no Google those days to check weather before travel, took the interview clad in a pure cotton saree  my teeth chattering and my brains turning numb.  I just wanted to get the interview over with for fear of peeing of cold.  It was that cold in Coimbatore in June, 2000.  So, when I joined the college and moved to Coimbatore for work, I brought with me, sweater, multiple blankets, shawls and socks. Tanuja, a colleague who joined at the same time as me and I used to walk around wrapped in sweater and shawls endlessly complaining of cold much to the amusement of students and colleagues.  Coimbatore'ans laughed at us.  Into December, both of us had taken out our entire winter paraphernalia.  Walking down the corridors was like a 'cold obstacle course' which we endured or maneuvered to avoid at all costs. This was the time I picked my mom's printed silk sarees to wear, as I found that they did their bit to prevent the cold getting to you.

Marriage in 2002 brought it's own share of Coimbatore'an pride in the form of my husband.  Coimbatore people were very proud of two things - Siruvani water and the weather.  They felt they lived in seventh heaven proclaiming to the world their unique qualities.  I always said 'nothing like Cauvery water' being a child whose blood drew strength and subsistence from her waters.  Still, even I realized that Siruvani's water was sweeter.  My husband, the eternal fan of Coimbatore used to declare at every instance, 'we Coimbatore are as big as Bangalore, with an equitable climate, a self-made city, people with an industrial mindset, water the sweetest to taste to the extent the British called Coimbatore "poor man's Ooty"'.  He used to run the fan in speed 5 in peak winter and when I complained and grudged he used to say, 'Oh this is not cold, you should have seen how cold it was in the sixties and seventies'.  His favourite line to rile me up was. 'Trichy people have come and settled in Coimbatore and brought their weather here, turning Coimbatore hot'.  All this till 2006 when I moved from the city to Coimbatore.  And know that I did use blankets extensively, because Cbe had only two months of summer those days and the rest was rainy/cold.  

Sometime in 2009 was when I touched the city again.  As we drove down from the airport on Avinashi Road, I asked Arun, 'Where are all the trees ?  What happened here ?'   He said that they had been felled for road widening work during the Tamil Conference.  My straight retort was, 'And what were you Coimbatoreans doing ?  How did you allow this ? '  The pain was because many of the trees I knew.  In the first two years, I had walked down the roads in the shade of the trees down Avinashi road on the few Saturday/Sunday or weekday holidays I didn't go home to Trichy.  The trees formed a canopy, like arms wide open, providing shade and cover.  For someone from Trichy who grew up with trees, especially down the Karur road on weekends, trees touching each other and forming a canopy is a memory even today.  Parking the car and having breakfast/lunch/tea or just relaxing is a memory from childhood.  I have berated my husband for letting Coimbatore go upto date.

So, when I returned after my PhD in 2010, the city was not cold and I didn't need blankets.  Just a sheet to cover would do.  Staying in a flat at that time, we found so many neighbouring flats having an air conditioner which was pretty rare in Coimbatore.  We found it sad but at the same time we said no to having an air conditioner and living the few months of summer out and not contributing to the carbon footprint we homo sapiens are leaving on earth.  This continued every year and we did not fix an air conditioner when we built our own home planting trees and tall shrubs and living summers in the ground floor, sleeping on a mat, hanging a wet sheet and managing the few months of summer.  However, 2023 was a turning point.  It felt like ten months of summer.


Wednesday, March 13, 2024

Indian Judiciary - a failed experiment.

The Indian Judiciary is a failed experiment, I feel.  It is high time that reform be introduced into it, the affected parts and pieces removed, redone.  Just like old buildings need to be renovated to suit newer times, the old junk and things pulling the judiciary down needs to be removed.  Ask anyone about the judiciary and going to court in this country.  A common refrain will be that it is better to settle, pay off rather than step into the court for anything.  Lawyers and judges are corrupt and the few who are upright are a minority.  

A look at the judgements coming in the papers makes one wonder about the same.  A sample.

How can watching and downloading child pornography not be an offense.  I don't need to be a judge / lawyer / educated to know this.  Any human being knows it is inhumane to be related in any form to child pornography.  However, the judge(s) of this bench of the High Court thought otherwise.  Educated judges of High Court... how... that too in the Madras High Court where stalwarts practiced and judged and one of the oldest in the country.

https://www.indiatoday.in/law/story/supreme-court-examine-madras-high-court-verdict-child-porn-not-offense-pocso-it-law-2513400-2024-03-11

Thugs, goondas and all such kind roam free.  A 98 year old man released after 5 yrs in prison.  What crime required jailing a 90+ year old man.  Couldn't they have told him to be in house arrest ? 

https://www.ndtv.com/india-news/watch-98-year-old-man-released-from-ayodhya-jail-gets-a-farewell-from-jail-staff-3674787

Justice delayed is justice denied they say.  All dead and gone.  The judge who decided on the case was born a decade after the case was filed.  That old is this case.  What use of finishing ?  Would it have mattered if they had continued to next century ?  Time waits for none.  But for our courts, their clocks just don't work.  I can't believe there is a justification for 72 years for case.  No matter the complexity.  Any other job, people would have got dismissed for not finishing work within reasonable timelines, but our courts have law in their pockets.  No one can question them.  Two more equally old are still pending it seems in the Calcutta High Court.  They will end when the court building comes down maybe.

https://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/city/kolkata/72-years-on-indias-oldest-pending-case-finally-settled/articleshow/97012986.cms

Sexual assault need not necessarily require skin-to-skin contaact.  Not many need an explanation for this.  But, this lady judge if I remember right just didn't get it.  The man groped the child who had her clothes on.  So, it is not sexual assault as the layer of clothing did not allow skin-to-skin contact.  Can words even begin to describe the absurdity ?  I remember being outraged reading the news that day.  I blew my top at home because of the sheer absurdity a high court judge uttered.  As usual, everything needs to go to Supreme Court - many lower court judges forget common sense.

https://www.indiatoday.in/india/story/supreme-court-skin-to-skin-contact-sexual-assault-pocso-1878039-2021-11-18

Two people, very old, estranged for reasons known best to them, one wants a divorce, another doesn't.  They have not lived together for 25 years.  Is this marriage ?  Yes, marriage is a sacred institution.  However, the sacredness is based on the relationship between two people not based on any paper.  So, wonder how this judgement is fair to both sides.

https://www.hindustantimes.com/india-news/supreme-court-declines-man-89-plea-seeking-divorce-from-82-year-old-wife-heres-why-101697165632067.html

There are so many people languishing in jail for small offenses and goondas roaming outside, getting married with the district's entire police force for protection.  There are people stuck in jails given verdicts for things they did not do, but bearing the brunt because they could not afford a lawyer or their lawyer did not fight for them or something was compromised somewhere.  All kinds live in India.  The one who killed a deer, ran over people sleeping on the roads, the Lamborgini and Porsche drivers testing their vehicle's engines on roads causing death to others and ruining their lives get bail and roam free....no justice for many, no justice for the helpless and innocent. Whither integrity of judiciary when such is what is seen.....  Pro-bono systems must be made compulsory in India in spheres like the Judiciary, private medicine, teaching, government officials,.... so that it keeps us people grounded and not loose touch with ground reality.

Of course there are judges and lawyers with integrity who stand out like the lotus in not so clean ponds.  They are rare, pure and hence beautiful.   Likewise, lawyers. A kerala lawyer carrying his physically challenged client up the court steps ; courts still not disabled friendly ?  Lawyers fighting for the poor, downtrodden and helpless women.  Judges who are clean.  Stories that need to be told.  Think we need to search for a person like Seshan who will put some sense into our Judicial System.

Lucky indeed are those who do not step foot into a court for any reason.  God has blessed them.

News that makes you wonder

 1.  Police Protection for everyone except common man

On one side, two gangsters given police protection.  On another side, women raped, children kidnapped, road accidents, robbery.  Police have time and energy for former, but not the latter.  What nonsense ?

https://www.ndtv.com/india-news/gangster-kala-jathedi-gets-married-to-revolver-rani-anuradha-choudhary-in-delhi-5223736#pfrom=home-ndtv_topstories


2.  Fake chemotherapy drug racket.

Life threatening diseases and there are people producing fake drugs for this.  Reminded of the movie 'Indian' which told something on the lines of that man would steal rice from the mouth of dead bodies.  That was shocking to hear as I couldn't think of anyone doing that,.... this is so much worse.  Were these people born of parents or did they just land up on earth from somewhere cold ?  Do they have families, children.....what are these people made of....  

https://www.indiatoday.in/cities/delhi/story/delhi-police-bust-fake-cancer-drug-racket-seven-people-arrested-medical-equipment-seized-2514118-2024-03-13


I sometimes am fed up with human beings.... look around and you will find people stealing, lying, faking things and what not.  

Heard a short reel yesterday say that we are in the transition phase from Dwarparyug to Kaliyug.  If the transition period is this bad, imagine what the future of 4.5 lakh years hold.  Moksha..............how ?????????? 

Friday, February 2, 2024

Just Imagine

Just Can't Imagine

There was a time

When Britain ruled India

Where Hindus were discriminated against

Temples became government property

Crafts, livelihood and culture wiped out

By setting up kangaroo courts

Aiding churches and missionary schools

To convert Hindus

Considered less educated and less couth.


So, today Britain has a Prime Minister

Who proudly calls himself a Hindu

Whose ancestors reached there circumventing

Not just biases but also geography

To reach there of all places

Well educated, well mannered and brainy

With a Hindu wife born in India

She, the daughter of self-made humble billionaires

Who proudly says she is Indian

And remains Indian upright.


Time, Time is the answer

Time is the truth

That generation that suffered

Did not witness

But we, their descendants stand testimony

That time will give back

Give back in full measure

To those who try to wipe out

To those who try to exterminate

For like the phoenix that rises from the ashes

People and races and civilizations will rise

Dust off and build themselves better

And conquer the world.


Can't imagine the looks on erstwhile kings and queen

Can't fathom the depths of what Churchill must be feeling

Nor Atlee, Baldwin and Chamberlain

Nor Clive, Cannings, Curzon, Hastings and Mountbatten

Kings, Queen, Prime Ministers, Viceroys and Lords

When they heard the bugles and pipes sounding the arrival

Of a man of Indian origin as Prime Minister

At 10, Downing Street.



In their graves will they remember

How they sucked us Indians of blood

Made orphans out of millions

Denied dignity and right to life

Taxed the salt that kept us healthy and alive

Even sold the grass leaving but parched earth

Making millions starve to death

Worse than cattle on the roads

Just to fill their majesty's coffins

And earn majestic favour.


Time will turn again

And hope one day

In my lifetime I will see

Not just from Asia and the Oriental

But with roots from Africa and the pacific too 

More such Prime Ministers who will rule

All those countries who used their boots

On the forehead of our ancestors.


No one blames this generation

But then remember, they have not cared yet

To apologize even in a line

Nor reimburse ill gotten wealth

Return valuable treasures of civilization

Instead bringing laws to hold and keep

Their ill gotten wealth and still

Go around the world bombing

As though the lessons of yesterday

Hasn't even pricked them light.


So time, please do your thing

A bit faster maybe, for man forgets

His follies and idiosyncracies fast

With his brutality he continues

To rule distant lands like before

By sowing seeds of hatred and illwill

By arming man against man

By policy of divide and rule

Yet behave they are better than any.


Time, time, time

Turn and turn a bit faster please

To teach the human race some lessons

There is no protectors like you

There is no teacher like you

There is no healer better than you.

 

Sunday, November 12, 2023

Ayyappa, who duped you ?

Ayyappa, it has been sometime now that people have been playing the fool with you. It has been quite sometime your devotees have been disturbed, torn and left bewildered.  It is high time you stood up for yourself. 

From the CM who leads a communist government deciding religious rules and modes, governments using your devotees money for everything else as top priority except provide top class facilities in your home and on the way too, to playing with items supplied, and now this.....

https://english.mathrubhumi.com/news/kerala/devaswom-board-mulls-over-disposing-off-damaged-aravanna-tins-loss-of-rs-6-65-crore-1.9066048

How can permissible level of pesticides as a measure be different between the High Court and Supreme Court ? If between the High Court and Supreme Court, where one thinks top judges rule, have such differences in interpretation of rules and law, then isn't there something that needs to change ? But oh, the mighty lords who rule these places do not like questions asked and will impose stricter punishment than you....you are more benevolent with people who poke and pierce you till you hurt. So, with perishable goods in hand, made with money we devotees have given to you and trusted you to use for your and your needy devotees benefit, why did they sit on their .... till the goods not worth one or two but 6.5 crores expire. Why don't you ask them how many times they would let their few hundreds worth vegetables and fruits in their fridges rot, let the sweets and savouries they bought go past expiry date.... let alone 6.5 crores worth aravanna. Who is responsible for your loss ? Isn't it high time you show your judgement, your power ? Isn't it time you stood up for yourself and slay these demons robbing You and in turn your devotees and hold every scoundrel involved accountable ? Why is it that they do not fear when they poke their dirt filled noses in your home and family oh Lord my God ? 

Isn't it time Ayyappa ? 




Wednesday, November 8, 2023

The Pursuit of Independence and Self Reliance

The Independent Streak - many admire it in people, many respect it, many think it is arrogance, many others think it is an aberration.  I was brought up to be independent all along.  Independent meaning, being self reliant, doing things myself, learning to live life without bothering, disturbing and being a worry to people around me.  

Parents in the Indian demographic have been bringing up children in a nuclear set up.  They are nurtured and motivated to do things themselves, take decisions on finances and career, commute and make life decisions.  They are introduced to business, savings, dress and life choices very early in life.  For me, I was brought up to be independent all along.  Independent meaning, being self reliant, doing things myself, learning to live life without bothering, disturbing and being a worry to people around me.  I was asked to do things myself by my parents, fight my own battles, go buy things, take decisions on my pocket money, to go to school riding my cycle the day my dad grew tired of me when I missed the school bus.  I used to go to his office on all weekends, school holidays, learn to write accounts, showed me the different sides to the business.  He was checking waters to see if I had it in me till one day he did everything to dissuade me from running a business.  Looking back, the first time the independent streak in me I guess got strong was when my dad had his heart attack.  Inside that dimly lit ICU, seeing my father connected to those beeping machines, a scary world I never knew existed at 19, my dad handed me a letter.  He told me he had written things on what was where and how he wanted things handled and asked me to read it alone.  I came out with the note and when my mom asked what it was, I realized she didn't know what was written.  I read the note with her sitting next to me.  It detailed finances and what he wanted.  I refused to divulge anything about it to anyone else and held on to that note for a long time.  After that, my dad always spoke to me about how he wanted things done.  He always reminded me that there is a will and if anything, I should follow that will which I promised him I will follow every word and I know I will.  Same with my mom - she had discussed with me what she wanted about our home as well as relations.  I am keeping promises I made to my mom the best I can keeping in mind the best interests of the living.  The parts I couldn't keep and maybe I will not be able to keep, I know I will have to answer her the day we meet.   All the time both of them reinforced that one should not be a burden on anyone. That is what made the parts of me where I just pick up and do it myself and look at finishing up things.  Even at times when things would surely have been easier if I had asked for help.  

Having parents with an independent streak, it gets into your pores easily I guess.  Whenever dad fell ill, he reminded me what he wanted and I promised him I will follow it to the word no matter what.  I know I will.  

Dad had discussed with me about a life alone through middle and old age when I told him I wasn't thinking of marriage. Then I got married.  He discussed with me on what he wanted done. Then, through and when the time for me to have children passed, the discussion happened again.  I think he saw the me I knew.  The last was when he discussed with me that I might live my old age alone and asked me if I have thought about it and how I planned to lead my life independently.  He didn't know that I had thought about it, but I didn't know nor see it the way he made me see it, the me thirty years into the future.  Then he fell ill and Corona hit and I went through one of the worst bouts of ill-health in my life.  The health scare that beat my experiences with typhoid, measles and jaundice was a realization of the march of time.  It made me re-evaluate my life, the way I lived, my work life, my relationships, my take on life, my battles, my failures, my success, my experiences, my strengths and my weaknesses.  One big realization was that I wished I hadn't endured some things so much at the cost of my health and well being.  Another was that I hadn't taken the time to learn to sing and dance through life, stringing the many beads properly and in many cases be like an eagle that can see the view from above.   A big one was it brought in me the need to ensure our independence against all odds.  An independence that would ensure that no one should be burdened with having to take decisions about us and for us.  So started the reading, researching and our discussions on what and how and where we wanted to live.  

A benchmark for what I wanted was my six months stint living with Pam at her home in the US.  A cancer survivor, living alone, managing everything from plumbing, painting, travelling and doing things by herself.  Yes, she had children and grand children.  She spoke of having a father who was very independent and she got the traits from him.  She was a working mom, brought up her children, retired and will live independently always into old age.  She told me she had made her decisions like most Americans do.  I did see this quality of independence in people I interacted with in the US.  Family is important just as what an individual wishes and wants.  It is not putting down anyone but ensuring the best for the person and their loved ones.  

The reading and research led us to see the differences in laws and how difficult some things are in India. For example, a DNR option, buying and make land for a forest or park forever which no man, no government can takeover or convert  - something I saw a lot in Amherst.  Both of which are so difficult legally in India.  The Supreme Court did pass a judgement about end of life care in 2018 telling the government to make laws but upto date no legal framework has been introduced.   I remembered my sister telling about a 90 old lady who was her neighbour in the US living alone with a cat.  

In India till recently old age homes were for people with no one, hospice and end of life care even today is a new development.  Of course, in many cities like Bangalore, Coimbatore, Pune and Cochin, one sees many retirement homes.  One also has friends, uncles and aunts whose children live abroad and choose retirement homes to live a better life with people their own age, have an active social life and make new friends with health being a central aspect.  Terminally ill patients have it rough with no choice in decision making and family members torn apart in the decision making.  

With more and more of the next generation living abroad as well as many who choose not to get married, be single or get married but not to have children, our laws and systems just haven't caught up.  When one sees cases on behalf of terminally ill or critical health cases drag in Indian courts, one wonders what are our choices.  What should India do about the archaic laws and how to introduce laws that keep up with the changing demographics ?  What stopped governments for fifty years from introducing draft laws knowing the above ?  What are they doing now ?  With a judicial system where a case takes decades to reach judgement and a system that is to say politely, slow and against reform, what chance do people have to live their old age on their own terms with dignity and grace.  How can the judicial system aid its citizens who have contributed to the growth of our country walk away gracefully into the sunset and beyond.  

Hitting roadblocks, for the first time we reached out for ideas, for advise for out of the box thinking, for ways to live life independently, for ways to not be a burden on family or friends, for ways to not be a burden on the other, for ways to not be a burden on oneself.  In the pursuit of independence and self reliance.


Thursday, October 12, 2023

Stand By

You can stand by and watch ?
But how can you stand by and watch

You can't stand by and watch
Beings starving for food
Animals thirsting for water
Birds with chopped off wings
Pets let off on the roads
Wildlife with no home.


You can't stand by and watch
Stones thrown at women
Girls paraded naked
Bullets piercing children
People dying on the road
Reputations of people blown
Victims torn in grief.


You can't stand by and watch
Worthless people doing things
Politicians without ethics
Judges without integrity
Teachers without commitment
Doctors without passion.


You can't stand by and watch
Men without chivalry
Women worn off dignity
Children torn of innocence
The weak denied rights
People downright humiliated.


How can you stand by and watch
How can I stand by and watch
Without hands tied, tongues free
But how can we all stand by and watch
And do just nothing.

Saturday, September 23, 2023

Paradox, Hypocrisy or just news

Reading the news today, sometimes I wonder if people listen to their own words.

A "Young Child" Being Targeted: Kamal Haasan On 'Sanatana' Remark Row

Having been a teacher half my life, a young child is someone from age 10, till max 25.  Till 10, he or she is a kid.  Now, when a 45 year old man is referred to as a young child, I wonder......  can I call myself a young child ?  I laugh at the very thought of that.  Calling oneself the next leader and uttering lines that speak of wiping out a billion people is more than what Hitler called for.  So, pardon us Mr. Kamal Haasan if we don't accept your young child for his utterance and yourself for not being a good elder and showing him the right path.  Grow up man.
 
"You Don't Have To Prove...": Punjab MP Backs Singer Shubh Amid Row

Of course he does not need to prove his patriotism till he does not become anti-national.  At age of 25+, if he posts a map of his own country without her head and outstretched arms that welcome her children and the world, then his patriotism will be questioned.  News says,  "Shubh had shared a distorted map of India on his Instagram handle earlier this year, which omitted the Union Territory of Jammu and Kashmir, Punjab, and the Northeastern states".  No patriotic son of the soil will do that, ever.  So, this MP or whoever supports him, needs to rethink or reset.

"Films Like 'Singham' Send Very Harmful Message," Says High Court Judge


A High Court judge, speaking at a function organised by the Indian Police Foundation to mark its annual day and Police Reforms Day, questioned people's "impatience" with the process of law.  Respected Sir, it shows the desperation of the common man that a film with such a subject works.  To what length the judiciary has failed us the citizens does not need any explanation.  For stealing two buffaloes and a calf in 1965, a 78 year old man was arrested.  His co-accused died and he will get bail given that he is 78.  A case as simple as this should have finished in a few(meaning countable on one hand) back to back hearings.  Why did it drag for 58 years ?  What was the police doing ?  What were the lawyers doing and to top it what was the judiciary doing?  We find reform and an acceptance of reform in every sphere including among the political class.  The judiciary is the one thing in India which resists reforms the most.  I don't need to state here that if there were a poll that asked which institution is more corrupt and if corrected will correct all others, 99.99%(leaving out some of the judges and lawyers) of your countrymen including me will point to the judiciary.  Even the President pointed out that something needs to be done to implement judgements.  You the judiciary are the gangrene affecting the body.  If there was a strong judicial system that will give judgment's on time(with cutoff in two years) without favouring anyone, especially the rich and the mighty, you might have had some sympathy. One hears about small time pickpockets spending years in jail, but rapists, arsonists, murderers and drug peddlers getting immediate bail.  How is that a good system ?  Stay after stay after stay to infinity is the norm of any case. We the common man can't even question you because your easy retort is 'contempt of court'.   So, instead of pointing the finger outwards, please point it inwards.  And do something soon.  For your time is running out, if you haven't noticed, because the common man is getting tired and impatient with your system.

BJP's Nishikant Dubey Questions Muslim MP's Conduct Day After He Was Abused


If you are going to insult and abuse someone, do it in your own home as a commoner, not as an MP.  If you get sued for that it will be as a commoner, not as a Parliament member.  This holds for every member, rich, hereditary or commoner, across party lines.  The hallowed halls of the Parliament, built by countless workers from across India, who dream that what they built with their blood and tears and sweat, including risking their lives during Covid, hoping it will serve to have a better life for their children is not the place.  The place we common Indians dream that our MPs will work hard and use their all to make our lives and the lives of our brethren better, will work to find ways to help us achieve our dreams is not the place.  So, go home and do it in your home.  Or just shut that mouth of yours. We are growing tired of your nonsense. 

P.S.  All of above are my own thoughts.  They are based on what is written in the news.  T

Dreamers vs Doers

There can be a billion dreamers, but a few among them are the doers. Lucky are the chosen ones, for they write and define history by their sense of purpose, conviction in their goals and their never say never attitude. To be admired is that they dared, dared to move against the current, dared to raise their hand and be counted, dared to hold their own against an army of naysayers, dared to take the insults and ridicule, dared to be hurt, dared to rise every morning to fight another battle. Salute to the doers, the go getters. May their ilk grow.

Monday, July 24, 2023

The Curse of being born a Woman

What did we do ?
To deserve such cruel fate
You created us just like every other
Female of the species on earth.

Still some men for all their six senses
No matter education, money and worldly knowledge
No matter upbringing, beliefs and culture
Behave worse than all and any animal.

We have explored the depths of our oceans
We have explored space with our rockets
We are into interstellar space
But a failure on our own earth.

Behaviour in terms so cruel
To old, adult, adolescent and children
One does not see in other species
In land, sea or air.

Even animals with five senses
Fair better in terms of culture
For they think not to use
Children and youngsters for their whims.

What were you thinking of when you created
Man with such sully
What were you thinking of when you created
Women who are made to bear.

Are you just the God of men
Are they an image of you
If then, why do we women
Pray to you.

Will we ever have deliverance
In this world or another
From men such as this
To breathe and just live.

For what is life without living
What pain to see and not do
What horror to hear and shut ears
What meaning to exist and act dead.

A life without fear
Without looking back over our shoulders
Without being alert at all times
Without being aware of what can befall.

A world where man will not touch
Without permission ever
And honour body and soul
Of her he weds.

Do you have such a world as this
If so, tell us the way
We are prepared this instant
To die and move forever.

If there is no such world
Send a virus, meteor or random any
To wipe women of the face of earth
And deliver us from futile existence.


Sunday, June 18, 2023

Please drop the show.

What is it with some of these people

Non Resident Indians 

Green Card Applicants

Newly flown countrymen


On groups one finds questions

'Is India safe to travel ?'

'Are facilities available in India ?'

'Are things available in shops ?'


These questions annoy me

Like no other 

For reasons stated

And I know not how better to explain.


India is safe as safe can be

Not as safe as Scandinavian

Safer than many who we always pray for

We have the best, good and the bad like any on earth.


Our capital cities are as safe as any big city in the world

Our tourist places just as friendly as others

You stretch out your arms to embrace

And you will get an embrace like no other.


No one talks of safety in other cities

Like gangs and guns in New York

Some street robbers in Paris

Few thieves in Rome.


Wherever one travels

One needs to take care

Of personal and possession safety

Like anywhere in the world.


I can understand people

Whose skin and hair colour is different from mine

Due to their ancestral genes asking this question

And am happy to answer and caution where required.


But it irritates me no end when asked by

Those of my colour and ancestors

Whose skin has changed by two shades in three decades

The acquired accent showing through at all times.


Acting as though they dropped on foreign soil by miracle

Asking these questions so blatant

Who do you think you are trying

To impress by your mockery and show.


You may no more swear allegiance by your erstwhile motherland

You may choose to say you don't remember

You may act as though you lived few inches off ground

When you lived here before.


You may have forgotten the road home

Your mind might have the picture of old

Of a nation that was building brick by brick

From the debris leftover by inhabitants from your current home.


But my dear, do not say you forgot

Your motherland and her lap

That nurtured you and nourished you with her soil

Whose chest you stomped, ran and jumped on.


Do not say you don't know

The sweet smell(manvasanai) of this land called India

Whose fruits you relished and ate

Where you dreamed your biggest dreams.


Your erstwhile mother as always proud

Of all her children near and far 

Stands tall praising your success and achievements

Happy in your happiness and glory.

 

So stop putting on a show

As though you are bigger better fairer

And come to see your erstwhile home if you wish to

Devoid of the snobbery and false show.


Or if you still think you are an other wordly element

Do go about how you wish

Please strut around in your own bubble

Because we are growing tired of your show.


Do not ever forget that I am here

One of many children who chose to stay

Build and rebuild to make better

A land for me and my brethren.


I will always welcome you my dears

To my heart and home, wide open

To listen, share and learn from experiences

To build a better home called Earth.


But also know that I will defend 

Tooth and nail my motherland that I adore

To protect her honour and her children

Who will stand tall forever and lore.


(Reminded of the song, 'Aye mere pyare watan' from Kabuliwala)

Tuesday, June 6, 2023

Pulling off the break wire

Pulling off the break wire of the two wheeler

Telling the rider to go ahead and drive

Is what I wish to do, when ?

When the rider hits you on the side walk and tells you watch where you walk

When the rider hits and breaks the side mirror and tells you nothing much go ahead

When the rider looses balance and falls all by himself and blames you going by for it

When the rider forgets his breaks and crashes into you from behind and says the fault is that I did break when traffic slowed

When the rider crashes into a stationery you at a signal and blames you for stopping in the middle of the road

When the rider scratches your car sides and tells blames you for not leaving sufficient space in between vehicles

When the rider takes a U-turn from the left into you going straight on your lane and asks you what's the hurry

When the rider forgets the load of bags on the side hits scratches and looses balance and blames you for not watching 

When the rider adjusts the mirror to check his hair and face forgetting it is meant to check vehicles behind and asks where you are looking

When the rider sways wantonly in front of you and then is offended when you give him the cut treatment

When the rider wishes honks chatters and follows so that you give way for him to only fail and then comment that ladies never learn to driver

Pulling off the break wire is all I wish to do

Rip it off the bike 

And say 'Go ahead and drive'.




Monday, April 24, 2023

In Memory of an Uncle.

Time, distance and man himself changes one's life and experiences.  Like the marks of water on land showing that once upon a time, water flowed, there were streams and rivers making the land fertile, green and beautiful, man's mind too is a canvas.  Despite the ravages of time having a marked look, the good times are the ones with colour and somehow always come to the surface to bring a smile.  

For me, the summer vacation at my uncle's place was the best times of my life.  My uncle was a man of many talent.  He was the child of a talented man himself.  As heard from my mom, my grandfather was known very well in the city, not just for being a congress man but also for being a humanitarian who was kind and giving.  He also had interest in literature, music and arts. She used to say that the fire in the kitchen at home would burn 24 hours and no one would leave home without having something.  

My uncle lost his father in his twenties and took on the responsibilities of bringing up his eight younger siblings, with the eldest being my mom, a teenager.  My mom did reminiscence that despite the troubles of the time, he handled things as well as he could.  He chose a career in banking and worked in the cooperative bank till retirement.  He inherited the traits of my grandfather in not just art, music and literature but also in his relationship with people.  Every time someone came home during breakfast, they would join the family.  Rest of the day it was always tea and snacks.  He was not loud spoken nor would get angry easily, but then those rare times I have heard him loud and get angry were chilling then and is still today.  He would convey his ideas and opinion with clarity and his brain was an encyclopedia in itself.  One could ask all doubts and questions to him and he would answer.  If he didn't know, he would go to his collection of books, a huge library, pick one and find out with you.   

Some memories around him are as clear as though it happened just a few minutes ago.  Like the time when he would play the harmonium and sing with my mom, aunt and her music teacher.  Those evenings were a world where my love of music got cultivated besides the radio that played at home.  Malayalam and Hindi songs, lines repeated when they went wrong.  He would play the harmonium and if he missed a beat, pause and play it back which in itself was a rare thing.  In the midst of this, I would watch him looking at me, and egging me to join.  Evenings that started around 7 pm would stretch for three hours before they all reluctantly would stop and call it a night.  Songs would be called out, sung, corrected where it went wrong, resung some times if required.  It was about getting together to sing, and spend evenings in the midst of music.  My mom had her notebook with lyrics which she would carry back home.  I still hold that music book of my mom. Those evenings were magic, like being transported to a different space, a different dimension.

Some evenings were with friends playing cards.  He introduced his eldest son once and asked him to join in.  I saw a father introduce a son gently into his world, the adult world.  He was that.  He wouldn't hold your hand, nor would he tell you directly anything.  He would watch, listen, gently show you the way and be behind, watching your step.  In the middle of all kind of conversations, have seen him watch everything, not missing anything.  I guess that eye for details, for knowing things and taking care of people was a quality unique to him. 

Most evenings, he would come from office to have someone waiting to meet him - a courtesy call, invitation, and many a time for suggestions and advice.  So, those evenings spent with him - silence sprinkled with conversations were special.  One evening, my uncle had come home with vegetables and he was cleaning the green leaves.   If I remember right, one of my cousins and me were sitting with him.  He used to ask me about school, learning.   Somewhere in the talk, I told something to the effect of  'I hate men'.  He had a pause.  When I turned, I found him looking at me.  He went back to picking the leaves, and asked me 'Why do you say that ?".  Me always the person stingy with words in articulating bad experiences, especially those days,  just said, 'I don't know.  I hate men.  They are not good'.  It was the year I started riding the bicycle and was experiencing boys and men whistle, cut in, cat calls.  I didn't tell him any of this.  There was a long silence and he asked me if I love my dad.  I said, yes, of course.  Your dad is a man.  Do you hate him ?  I said No emphatically.  I looked back at the leaves and I could hear the wheels of my brain turn and fire.  He let it turn and fire.  After sometime, he said.  There are all kinds of people in this world.  Good and bad.  Not all are good and not all are bad.  I still have issues with generalizing like many but that lesson comes to mind every time I do.  He didn't force an opinion, didn't tell me my thinking was wrong.  He just showed me a bigger picture and let me learn.  

Another time, was a conversation I overheard with my aunt.  She was in her 12th std I guess and was studying to give exams.  He told her to study well and you can go for teacher training and become a teacher.   The time when I failed my quarterly and half yearly in the eight standard in maths.  After the customary thrashing I used to receive for failing and few days of silence and peak tension  I remember my mom telling of a conversation he had with her. My mom had failed her exams at 16.  She was upset because she was a bright student.  She hadn't taken her exams seriously.  It was the year after her dad had passed away.  When the results came, it seems my uncle told her it was okay and to study and write the exam again.  She was upset and didn't do it which she regretted always.  In the sixties and seventies, an age when girls education was not much spoken off, here was a brother backing his sister to study.  He had told her she could train to be a teacher after she passed. My mom related this story and told me she regretted not taking her brother's advice.  If only she had taken his advice seriously, she would have had a career other than a house wife. She felt that she hadn't reached her potential.  My mom was a talented woman - literature, art, music, dance, gardening, cooking, design, conversations and relationships she could easily build with all people, her amazing memory of people.  Also, when later in life she found out about her friends, I guess it hurt her that she hadn't taken the right decision.  So, the feeling of not having achieved her potential stayed with her through life.  My uncle placed great importance on education on all his siblings and on the next generation as well.  

The time he brought sweets for the 'Grahapravesham' of the home we, six of us (three sisters and three brothers) plus sometimes neighbourhood friends built is the exact scene I can re-enact even today.  The hut was built under the mango tree.  A drawing and a kitchen, just a 8X10 max maybe with a partition, chest high.  As in previous years, we built the hut from scratch using poles and thatch.  My brothers knew how to build.  To this day, I don't know from where they learnt it.  They first would go check out the wood, size and strength as well as the coconut fronds, sometimes matted, sometimes not.  After an assessment, we would carry them to the site.  Then, they would measure roughly and start digging holes in the ground.  We sisters wouldn't be allowed to carry anything heavy.  We would scoop mud out or help with the ropes and the fronds.  The heavy and hard labour our cousins would do all by themselves.  Once the pillars and beams came up, the coconut fronds would be put up on the roof as well as the sides.  The ground would be cleared of weeds and grass and the mud flattened.  Mats would be brought from home and layed out on the ground.  The rest of the summer, this would be our  hole from morning to evening.  Once finished we invited my uncle and aunts to come home just like in previous years.  So, the evening he said he will come, we prepared lemon juice and my cousins bought some candy with the pocket money they had saved.  It was excitement when my uncle returned home in his trademark scooter from the bank.  We waited.  Sometime later, there he was, walking with a basket on his head, filled with treats, walking beside him, my aunt(his wife), followed by his three sisters, in a procession.  He was singing some song and made an elaborate walk around the main way and came home.  I still remember him taking his role very seriously.  He came home and sat on the mat, enquired, how we built the house, the rooms, what we do.  It was so surreal then and more so today.  We offered the juice and candy and part of what he had brought - back to him.  After exchanging pleasantries and chatting, they took leave and left us.  We jumped into the basket full of sweets and savories, enjoying our home.  This happened every year but that particular year, we had built the hut in a different location and hence the way from home through the main walkway could be clearly seen.  That was the last year we built a home as my move to the ninth standard meant no more of summer holidays.  Exams took over life forever after that and long distance travel became like taboo.  

Then there was this one time, when I saw the full extent of his anger.  I never knew or thought till then that he would or rather could get this angry.  My cousin and I had this habit of chatting a lot in the morning and therefore delaying brushing our teeth to have morning breakfast.  Today I wonder what kept us so engrossed and what we were chatting about.  With toothbrush in hand, both of us were chatting away.  We were called once, then a second time.  We said okay, coming and then continued chatting.  The third time, call came from my uncle.  My cousin ran up to him.  I stayed back and the next thing I know, I can hear my uncle tell loudly, don't run, come here.  I see my cousin run for his life with a coconut frond wielding uncle behind him, running around the vast expanse of coconut trees. As my cousin ran around the coconut trees impleading his dad to not catch him and asking for help from my aunt and skirted being thrashed, my pulse went up.   The fear that came in saw me running and brushing my teeth and landing up at the dining table.  The cries from my cousin were bad and made me feel guilty as hell.  Still I did not dare go anywhere near that transformed uncle of mine.  Never have I heard a strong word, forget a frond wielding runner at his fiercest.  After that, I always looked out for my uncle's hand.  Both of us cousins avoided each other that day and the day after and the day after ... and were quiet.  It was quiet sometime before I got over what I saw.  I never asked my cousin what happened nor did he volunteer.  That was the only time I saw my uncle like that.  Despite having had a dad and mom in that form and been at the receiving end multiple times, my uncle in that form shocked me.  Since that day, I have tried recollecting what that so important non world changing matter engrossed us and to no avail.  Nor have I ever asked my cousin.  I have absolutely no recollection except the place where we were talking and then that wild chase I witnessed.  

Another time, there were a group of people who came home requesting my uncle to mediate some matter.  One man was particularly striking.  He wore a white mundu of course, but his height, beard and turban made him look imposing.  So, after my uncle dressed up and told my aunt he was leaving, my cousin and I started walking with him.  On the way, he said he was going to mediate a matter between two sides and he hoped he will be successful.  I saw him calm on the surface but also, that sense of purpose in him.  When he reached the point where he had to cross over the railway line to go to the other side, he stopped both of us and told us to reach home safely.  Across the line, I saw a tall man in a turban and felt uncomfortable.  My uncle went across and we waited for him to return home.  He came back the calm, collected person he was with no indication of what had happened there.  Have heard many a time my dad say that he has stood as mediator or helped solve issues between parties and thereby avoided confrontation.  

It was only two months vacation for few years that we got to spend with him, yet, memories of the time are etched in the mind, as clear as that day.  Of course there are many more such things, important and mundane.   The day before, it all became the past.  I have wondered many a time what he thought of me becoming an academician.  Never asked.  Wondered what he thought of me having succeeded in educating myself despite the struggles for a few years in school.  Never asked.  For in him I saw a vastly talented man, who was capable of many a thing and lead a remarkable life.  Just like any other, life threw many challenges, struggles, grenades, mines and bombs.  Yet he maneuvered life.  I know he maneuvered because I have seen a couple and much later came to know.   Looking back even today, wonder how he held himself up, how he managed to keep cool.  Wondered if he wished he had done something different to change the outcome of situations he came across.  Some struggles I know of, some of course I will never know.   It must not have been easy to do a lot of things, but some people have the talent to pack it all into one life.  He did that.  How well he handled or if he could have done better or done things differently, I have never looked into, never thought much and consciously chose never to judge.  The me of today understands he lived life his way, surely the best he could, within the circumstances life threw at his step.  Sometimes, I wish he wrote his autobiography.  Atleast, some stories.  

In the last few years, he waged a final battle, with Parkinsons.  Seeing him on those rare occasions, brought back so many memories and the thought that a brain as remarkable as his was failing him.  How could it and why ? I preferred to remember that full of life and coconut frond wielding uncle than the one who was fighting Parkinsons.  For there are only so many memories in that little bag of mine that I chose to carry into my old age, having removed many and thrown in the garbage bin of time.  That little precious bag of mine, I choose to keep it safe, because on and off, there are times that items from the garbage bin come back as though hit by a restore button, to sully and destroy, to put foil to all my efforts to clear the clutter.  In my mind, there are a few pictures of him saved forever.  One of him on his scooter, another of him in white shirt and mundu, with specks on and face tilted a bit down showing how much of my grandfather I never saw nor knew he looked like, a third of him bare chested wearing a lungi and carrying that basket of goodies for our house warming, a fourth of him singing and playing the harmonium and the last one of that coconut frond wielding runner.  

Till we meet someday, I will carry the pictures and memories of an era gone by.