For the Blacks and the Browns

 Of the many cultures and tribes

They say we are not civilized enough

They say we are not modern enough

They say we are sticking to rituals

They say we are not walking with the times

What of their horse drawn carriages

What of walking around in head gear from the ice ages

What of the marches and standing in four directions

What of the clothes that look like clowns

What of the stiff you are travelling around the country with

What of the unnecessary pomp over an occurrence that time specifies

If for you your own is precious

So it is for everybody else's theirs.

You are proud of your heritage you say

The heritage that went crossing oceans

To loot, kill, torture and plunder

The blacks and the browns.

The diamonds and rubies stuck on your crowns and tiaras

The emeralds that hang on your neck

The pearls that drop from your ears

The gold that keeps all this together

From the blood and sweat of billions

Belonging to the blacks and the browns.

You adorn yourself in worthless splendour

Matching hats and shoes with other

And show off pomp like no other

With the riches plundered of others

Sounding bugles hollow as your holler

To display and regale your plunder.

Time is a healer but also a witness

Time is a teacher like no other

For every tear there will be a tear

For every drop there will be a drop

For every paisa there will be a paisa

If for you time was on your sails yesterday

For us it is today and tomorrow

For us the blacks and the browns.

Good Luck

Going through old stuff, found this.  Something I had written for the 2015 batch MCA just before they started their internship.  Something that day triggered this writing and I do remember what it was.  Some batches are close to your heart as a teacher because you walked in the first day and said 'Hello'.  Others because something clicked.  Some others because you found a little of you in them.  Some because you started dreaming something for them.  Some because you saw the potential and they weren't willing to use it, ensuing a struggle to reach common ground.  It has always been a roller coaster - pride when they work hard, hope when after hard work they fall and rise up, happiness when you see their achievements shine in their smiles, anger too when they are lazy and don't try.  'Potential' is something present in every person.  It varies in form and shape, but it is very much there.  It is a struggle getting to make a person see their potential - something I wish my teachers in college did for me.  Wish they had battled a little harder with me, especially when I slacked.  Reading this letter reminded me of batches passing out.  It is a mixed feeling, happy and sad, confident and unsure, hopeful at the same time worried, praying and believing that the universe gifts them abundantly.  I remember how unprepared I was for my internship.  It hit me hard the first month.  Madras in 1997 was different from Trichy in many ways.

So, when I chanced upon this letter written in December, 2017, realized so much I missed out saying.  

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Dear Students, 

You were students in our department and college till yesterday. Today you are still a student (we are not ready to let go, not yet) but you have also taken a step outside to work in the industry. The past two and half years in college we hope has given you a foundation from which to launch your career. The step you are taking into the industry is a huge step and things will be new. However, remember, it is an exciting time to step into the IT industry right now. With the speed at which technology is changing lives of people, it is a time when you can explore, learn and acquire skills beyond what the college has provided you and contribute to society in ways you dream of.

The advantage of being an intern in an organization is that you get a feel of what the job of a software engineer will be. It helps you learn, as the company will aid in honing your skills, both technical and personal. It is also the time for you to assess gaps and fill the gaps before becoming an IT professional. That is the main purpose of the six month project.

While we faculty understand that the new environment and practices take time to get used to, you need to know that change is going to be a continuous constant in this industry and change happens fast. Change will come in the form of technology, products, projects and in turn the skills that you need to keep acquiring. Change will also be a constant in terms of the people and place you work in.

It is going to be a highly competitive environment and to be successful you need to embrace this change and learn to grow with it. You need to be open to learning, to challenges and difficulties. 

We hope that during the project, you will apply yourself and push yourself to learn. It doesn't matter to us whether you are doing your project in an MNC or a local startup. What we want to see is that you have worked hard and set high aims for yourself. We would love to see you show us work of very high quality even if the quantum is small. As you know, a functionality without error has higher value than a software riddled with errors. Please ask questions about the project, know it thoroughly as though you own it and build it with quality. Also use this time to build your interpersonal and communication skills. This skill is as important and sometimes far more important than technical skills. 

Above said, it will also be a time of realization. An eye-opener. Some of you will love what you are doing while some of you may realize it is not your calling.  This time as an intern will help you in deciding if this is the path you want to tread. However, do not take that decision in the first month. Please give yourself the six months internship time and at the end of it, decide. Better would be to work for a year in case you are still to decide. Use this time to learn, work hard, build contacts and see how a company works. This experience, this learning will not go waste.

During this time and also in your career, you will have a string of success as well as defeats. When success touches you, pat yourself  on your shoulder and set new goals. When defeat touches you, be bold, pat your shoulder, tell yourself that you will do better next time, rise up and start the run again. No defeat will be a defeat if you do not accept it. So be passionate about learning and any work you do. A life without passion, I believe, is a life half lived. That is what we wish you to aim.

We know that we have pushed you everyday and will continue to push you. As teachers, we aim to help you see your own potential and realize it.  We have corrected you and scolded you for mistakes, sometimes little, sometimes big. Please remember what we disagree is not you, the person, but the action. We hope you learn from them and move ahead.

What makes a great human being is not just the technical skills (s)he possesses nor the status, nor money earned. It is being human, and you, our students have always had that in abundance. We have always been proud of how you have stood by each other, supportive of shortcomings. We, your teachers have always admired you when you have emptied your pockets to help a friend in need. Please don't think we haven't noticed. We have laughed with you and also wished your hurt away. Each of you is unique, and we have gained and our life has been enriched from knowing you. We respect you for your qualities and we learn from you something everyday. We hope you will hold on to these qualities life-long.

An adult life has a different pace from that of a student. Work takes over, and many a time, days, months and years go by fast without your noticing it. Through all this, remember to hold on to your family and school and college friends for they are your strength and anchor. They know you best and are least judgmental; they take you for what you are. However, also build good relationships and develop new friends where you go. Through all this, remember to have fun and to live life to the fullest.

Stepping out into the world, you are the dream and torchbearers of not just your family but also of your teachers, department, institutions(school and college) and this great country of ours. You hold the key to the future. In you, our youth, rests the hope of this nation. While diverse in terms of language, culture, religion and beliefs we are one.  Hope you will fight for the ideals on which this nation was built and contribute to her growth. Hope that through your chosen field, you will help in building better technology/process for our countrymen to lead a better life.

We hope and pray that good health and success is always yours and that God will be kind to you in times of difficulties. We, your teachers strongly believe that you will do well in any field you set your heart.  As someone said, 'Go kiss the world.' May it welcome you with open arms.

Good luck and God Bless.

Regards

Sapna

Wrestling with the Baingan

'Baingan Bartha' is a recipe I have heard long back.  Once, my sister who lived in the US at the time nearly enticed me to making it as she had made it sitting in the US.  I never fell for the bait.  First, it was baingan, a vegetable my husband kept at leg's length, and second I wasn't a big fan of baingan.  I did make the occasional 'Enna Kathrika' the Tamilian way.  Onion, garlic and brinjal spiced with chilli powder and salt.  

Last month's visit to the Arts College Pazhamudir got me buying the big brinjal.  Dark purple with green stalk - colours resplendant.  I had these brinjals often during my time in Italy, cooked the Tamilian way.  Yes, sitting in Italy and being Tamilian.  When I googled for recipes with Brinjal, the 'Baingan Bartha' came up.  I read, reread and rereread the recipe.  Different recipes made with one or more ingredient plus or minus.  I didn't have a charcoal stove.  Cooking on fire - now that is a little bit of risk.  Me, who burns myself every time I deep fry, grilling green vegetables on gas stove fire was a risk, small one.  I wondered if the seeds will splutter, whether it will mess up my stove burner, if I will burn it or will it melt down.  

There are two things my dad always dissuaded me from doing in the arena of cooking :  breaking/grating the coconut and deep frying.  Every time I break a coconut, till date, I will get my finger caught in the crack and scream.  If I ventured grating, it was slow and a little bit of my skin in one or multiple fingers was also grated.  So, he would do it for me every morning.  'Ulundu Vada' is a favourite of my dad as is 'Pazham Pori'.  These are two things, deep fried, I did venture to cook.  No puris, no cutlets, no samosas.  The moment I pour oil, he will issue a word of warning and let me know he didn't mind not having them compared to seeing burnt skin.  To date, I will end up having atleast one splash of hot oil every time I cook these two recipes, despite all the care I take.  The times my husband offers to try frying, seeing me try so hard, I just ban him from the kitchen.  I can atleast answer my dad for burning my fingers and hands.  No way I can answer for Arun's.  There would be only one question : 'what were you doing ? '.  The guilt of living with that line is too much to handle.  Funny, how our parents can make us do and not do things with just a one liner.

Anyways, so the last time, I went back to making Enna Kathrika despite all the reading.  Last week's visit to Pazhamudir, and there they were, the Brinjal's waiting for me to pick them up.  After walking by them more than twice, I said to myself, 'Come on, you can't run away from a challenge'.  I have never said no to a challenge, except the cooking kind.  Many a time, looking at my frail frame, I have been dared to lift heavy weights or eat a big full plate of food.  I wasn't as surprised as the challenger in the end.  It took me one hour out of two to change a Fiat Premier Padmini tyre - the nuts of which were secured super tight.   That was one where I thought for a second that I might loose, but I did come up with a way to do win it.  However, I have not tread anywhere close to a cooking challenge.  So, time to change history I told myself and I picked three of them, shining purple and contrasted with green, beautiful brinjals.  

Today after seeing the brinjals in the fridge for the umpteenth time and knowing well that a challenge had to be faced, I started by reading the recipe.  I reread the recipe. No, not enough.  I looked at the pictures.  I looked at youtube videos.  I read the literature, from the translation of the word 'Baingan' meaning Brinjal, the King of Vegetables, ~ Vangaya - Eggplant ~ Aubergines.  Geography also rolled in - the Punjabi Baingan Bartha, Maharastrian Vangyache Bharit, the Tamilian Kathrika Gothsu to the Middle Easter Baba Ganoush.  Here I was, being true to my profession of being a researcher.  Reading and rereading, running every step in my mind.  Time flew beyond lunch time.  Despite the sambhar, keerai poriyal and salad ready, I wasn't going to have lunch.  Not without the Baingan Bartha.

I finally picked the tongs and put the first brinjal to grill as in the recipe, all the time checking and re checking.  It felt like forever by the time I have cooked the brinjals.  No lighting of charcoal, and infusing the earthy aroma.  The only infusion was when I burnt the tip of my finger. Skinning the Brinjal and mashing it up, removing seeds - there was no explanation of an easy way to remove the seeds.   The rest of the recipe was followed to the tee.  It took double the time it stated in the recipe to touch the finish line.  At the end, when I tasted it, wondered if this was the way it should taste after all.  No one explains to you how it should taste at the end of the recipe, nor is there a taste transfer technique.  Imagine, after all the effort, there is no standard to compare against.  

My better half being the better man that he is, despite being starved during the time, had a good word for trying and even had some despite his strong dislike for Baingan. For, I had fulfilled the desire of having Baingan Bartha after all.  There is enough for tomorrow and the day after, and I will have to have it all by myself I am sure.  Still, it is my Baingan Bartha, no comparisons to make.  The next time, I will hit a Punjabi restaurant to check it out.  Till then, I should remember the taste.  

The Pain of Looking Young

The ‘Fountain of Youth’ is a search one will find in mythology and passed on to stories and films.  It is an eternal search among human kind.  However, one just has to ask the affected how it feels to be treated like someone younger than themselves.

The 'Pain of Looking Young' is a curse, felt by people who have no way of expressing it in words.  I have faced it in my twenties, and told myself that it will get better when I turn thirty, which was moved to forties, and now, I am irritated as ever.  I understand that there is no end to it and it is not a matter of looks.  The first strands of grey is something I have heard people fret about, feel bad about and trying to hide under dyes and henna.  I welcomed it, and have always looked forward to looking my age. 

Every time someone in a bus, office or public space has called me ‘paapa’, I have cringed inside.  When men cut into a queue in front of me (not the lady in front of me) and start behaving funny when I object and tell them to stand in line, I have felt fury inside.  The times I have been treated like someone who needs to be protected from the world, I have felt like revolting and picking up a sword.    It was something that affected both my personal and professional life.  Both areas, there are people who told me that I didn’t look my age, that I didn’t look the part.  That I didn’t look old enough to be in the position I was in, that I didn’t look mature enough, aged enough.  That many thought I was way younger than who I am and hence treated me so.  The reason didn’t help as it made me angry for being judged by my looks.

I always have had to work double hard to get to where I got.  Forget the big ones, I go to a bank and they tell me to wait and serve a customer who has come after me, many a time a man, or someone my age or thereabouts.  Yes, I have watched if it happens to others who have been ahead of me in the queue and no it did not.  I count to 100 before I start giving them a piece of mind.  Places where they have made me walk up and down counters, unlike others for similar transactions, my going to the bank repeatedly to get a simple TDS certificate, someone who has come after me being served before and then it doesn’t happen to another, family that treats me as though they are elder to me and more wise and capable, groups – personal and official, where my suggestion would be turned outright as impossible, naïve and not workable to be later proposed by people as their own, facts told unbelievable and later becomes conveniently believable when shown by another.  Name the place – supermarket, bank, shops, it is the same.  I have walked away from places that treat me badly.  I know the difference because if my husband is around, then things work differently.  The word ‘madam’ absent till then appears and the tone changes. Me thought of as my husband’s daughter, everything except his wife. More importantly, I have seen women my age or younger who look their age getting treated better.  The time I was alone, searching for something in the supermarket happily, only to be approached by a pair, a boy and girl, around 21-24, who asked about UNICEF assuming that I might not know or have heard about UNICEF.  No, the question can be passed, but not the tone and body language.  As though they were speaking to a twenty something instead of someone nearly hitting fifty, I gave them a strong piece of advise, asking them to start with assuming I had heard about it as I was easily twice their age.   Sometimes, people have come back, telling they assumed I was younger as I didn't look my age, as though it was some kind of compliment.  You can't imagine what it felt inside.

I have asked myself and my husband many a time if it is me.  Something with the way I behave ? My husband says, when it happens don't put up with it, walk-talk-behave authoritatively, put your foot down which both of us agree is not right or the way to do it, but if there is no go, do it anyways than feel bad.  It has turned my husband over protective of me especially as he sees it in close quarters nowadays.  I argue with my husband and ask him to stay away, let me handle things, just let me be and not try to protect me.  He stands far away, and when he sees something amiss, he steps in and the scenario changes.  Which infuriates me even more.  I have stopped wearing T-shirts, kurtis and jeans to many places, no kurta, and I wear salwars(with that stupid dupatta) and do everything to look normal, that is, my age. Today, after being treated twice as though someone not my age, the second one was an innocent lady(I told her my age and smiled, trying to keep my cool), I felt rage.  No, it is not me generalizing and assuming it is because of my looks.  When people call me 'paapa', olunga vandi otta padi(when I drive normally), get asked what degree I am studying, ....  I just know.  It throws patience, tolerance, everything similar steam out of my burning ears.  I can see that cartoon of myself afterwards.  And feel all the more horrible afterwards.

Don’t judge a book by its cover they say.  But, that is what we all do, everywhere.  So, to those that look their age, please consider it as a blessing, for you know not what it is to be treated and made to feel like an idiot/moron/stupid for that is what I feel at the end of such an experience always.  Only to wake up to battle another day.