On being rich...

I have been rather lucky with domestic helps who have been not only loyal to me but have recommended me to others before quitting my services under some compulsion. Except for one servant who worked for me for a very short time they have all been very honest and trustworthy. I sometimes wonder if the law of averages will soon catch up and I’d be stuck with a real troublesome servant in my old age? But then let me make hay while the sun shines. I have a very sweet girl working for me right now. She is in her early twenties and is likely to get married in a year or two. I do hope her replacement is equally good. It would be difficult for me to monitor their work at my age when I’ve never done it before. I’ve been wanting to devote a few posts to these wonderful people who became an integral part of my family and have made life so much easier for me. I realize that they belong to an underpaid and over worked group. I may not be able to do much but I do try to treat them with the dignity they deserve because they do a job that I find difficult to handle continuously for more than a week.

So let me start from Rajamma.

Rajamma was perhaps in her early thirties when she started working for us. In fact she was my senior by 4 months having taken up the job a little before my marriage. She was hard working and for lunch, her family depended on the left over food that her employers gave. She would only cook at night. Always well dressed, she carried herself with a quiet dignity and picked up culinary skills from her employers as bonus. She learnt to make rangoli designs and a fair amount of Knitting, crochet and embroidery. She worked part time in 5 households and the poor woman wanted to educate her children so that they would never have to work as servants. She worked for me for 22 long years and till date she remains in touch with me. She comes to me with her problems and trusts me to handle her bank account which she manages to maintain without the knowledge of her family. Unfortunately her children did not study well though her sons manage well enough as ‘dosawallahs’ and daughters are married off. She sends her grandchildren to English medium schools, sending them to private tutors for extra coaching. Her grand daughter had not performed well in the 1st terminal examination and was being scolded by her when my daughter paid them a brief visit.

“Don’t worry,” laughed my daughter “your grand mother is a real Hitler. We have all been scolded by her at some point of time.”

She is well off now but has not forgotten her days of hardship. The amount of sweets that she distributes for Deepavali would put us to shame. Such is her generosity. Destiny had her washing soiled clothes and spittled vessels but I had always felt that she was a class apart. And I was right. Her parents were well off and led a fairly secure life in Burma. During the Second World War they had to abandon everything and come to India as refugees. Being uneducated she had to work as housemaid to earn a living. But it did not dampen her spirits and she continues to aspire high for her grandchildren in very much the same way that she did for her children.

Then there was Kamala who worked for four years when Rajamma left our services due to an arthritic knee and found it difficult to climb stairs. Kamala was good at her job and also very honest. However, she had a problem. She would talk almost non stop. She had teen aged sons of the same age as my son and the teen trouble faced by me did not escape her either. She would spend an hour after her arrival giving an elaborate account of the way her boys troubled her or how irresponsible her husband was.

“Kamala it is getting dark. Why don’t you start work?” I’d say.

“It’s okay didi, I’ll go by the main road. Nothing to fear. There are lots of people on the road even at 10 in the night.”

My husband would return from office to be greeted by Kamala with a broom or a swab cloth in hand, in animated conversation with me.

“She should be paying you for listening to her sob stories.” He would grumble. Why don’t you ask her to finish work before I return?”

Though rather annoying I let her work for me because she was not only honest but also very self respecting. She also worked for another family in the neighborhood. The poor woman trusted them with 25,000 rupees of hard earned money that they offered to fix in the bank on her behalf, because the tedious paper work involved baffled her and opening an account in her name appeared rather difficult. In her innumerable gossip sessions she would tell me about the falling rate of interest and express her relief about having fixed the amount for 5 years at a higher interest rate.

Time flew and the stipulated 5 years also passed by. However there was no talk of renewing the fixed deposit or returning the money. Kamala turned to me for help but there was no proof of her having given the money and I could not interfere.25, 000 rupees plus interest was a lot of money for a poor person like her. But her reaction set me thinking.

“Tell me didi, will they become rich by robbing me of my hard earned money?” she asked, “Will it last for ever? Never mind the money. I’ll always remember that babu (meaning our neighbor) helped me when my son met with an accident and today he is earning more than 10,000 per month. He’s got a new lease of life and God willing he will earn much more than what I’ve managed to save in all my life. I’ll consider the amount as donated to some charitable cause.”

I had no answer.

I sometimes wonder what the word poor stands for. Are Rajamma and Kamala poor? I have seen propertied people with chauffeur driven cars pounce on calculators to calculate the amount they stand to benefit when the government announces a 5% increase in DA as if their lives depended on it. And here we have a woman like Kamala, willing to forgive a person who had swindled her of a life time savings. Having money does not automatically make one rich. I end with an oft repeated story that seems to have some relevance to Kamala’s story.

The sage Narada once complained to Lord Vishnu that here he was repeating his name a thousand times per day and the Lord was appreciating a devotee who hardly found time to remember him. The Lord asked Narada to hold a bowlful of oil and go around the temple premises once. Narada dutifully did so. Around the same time a woodcutter came, set his load on the temple floor, folded his hands in devotion and thanked God for giving him good health to work hard and support his family and prayed that God should continue to bless him in the same manner. Narada looked down upon the devotee who found time to remember God only once a day. The Lord asked Narada how many times he remembered him while going around the temple premises with a bowlful of oil. Narada admitted that he was concentrating on the one job assigned to him and found no time to remember God and the woodcutter’s devotion was indeed superior since he worked hard to make ends meet yet he did not ask for material comforts but thanked God for enabling him to work for the well being of his family. Does it not automatically indicate who was the richer person?

A HAPPY DEEPAVALI TO ALL OF YOU.

My type of brain!

Your Brain is Blue

Of all the brain types, yours is the most mellow. You tend to be in a meditative state most of the time. You don't try to think away your troubles. Your thoughts are realistic, fresh, and honest. You truly see things as how they are. You tend to spend a lot of time thinking about your friends, your surroundings, and your life.

What Color Is Your Brain?

Engagement Tag

I have been tagged by ITW and this time it is an engagement story tag and that too my own. Well, be prepared for a disappointing account-no thrills here just the routine ‘girl seeing’ story. It was however made a little interesting by my uncle who negotiated on my mother’s behalf.

The story begins with a rejection of our proposal by a gentleman in Kumbakonam. He was a diamond merchant from Sri Lanka whose son was employed in Jalpaiguri. He corresponded with my uncle to the extent of writing that his son would abide by his decision and there was no need to have a formal girl seeing session. He offered to drop in casually for a peep at the girl and if all went well the wedding could be held between the 1st and 15thof June of the same year because that was the only time that his son could avail leave. My uncle insisted on seeing the boy and refused to entertain his request to have a casual ‘peep’ at me. Finally the gentleman backed out for some silly reason but his rejection made my uncle adamant that he would see to it that I got engaged if not married by the 15th of June and he started negotiations on a war footing!

Likewise my husband’s family had negotiated with quite a few families in Calcutta and Jamshedpur and when nothing materialized my mother in law sent my father in law to Chennai to stay there and ‘look’ for a suitable girl. He thus landed in Chennai with the sole intention of hunting for a bride for his son. My uncle advertised and my father in law responded with suitable references of people, some of whom were known to our family. I later came to know that other aspects being satisfactory, neither of them matched horoscopes thinking that the other person would do it. Finally my uncle invited the family to come over to see me.

Since my uncle lived in another town in Tamilnadu, I was blissfully unaware of these developments and had applied for admission to a B. Ed. As well as B. Lib. Course and was awaiting an admission offer from either of the colleges or both. So when a telegram announced that a family from Jamshedpur was expected to arrive to 'see' me, I was totally unprepared. It so happened that I got an admission offer on the very day these people decided to come over and I was hoping that even if I was engaged the family would let me do my B. Ed. For me, more than the career prospects, the thought of being allowed to continue at my mother’s place was reassuring.

The actual ‘girl seeing’ formality was neither exciting nor an eventful occasion to recall or remember. I remember feeling hot and waited for permission to change into some casual attire hoping that the trio would go away soon. But that was not to be. My uncle had guessed that my father in law would have short-listed more than one girl to see before asking his wife and son to come over from Jamshedpur. He was certainly not going to let them off easily. It was already June 10th and he had a point to prove. He requested my husband’s parents to convey their opinion immediately. My father in law was also not prepared for this. They had plans to visit another family and decide on the better of the two. However, this could not be disclosed. He started giving some excuse and from an inner room I was trying to figure out what was going on. My mother looked equally confused and I was beginning to enjoy the situation. My younger brothers, brats that they were, came in to give me a minute by minute account of the developments.

“The boy and his parents have been shifted to grandfather’s office.” They’d announce. Peeping from behind a half closed window they tried to get a first hand view of my future husband’s expression.

“The boy’s mother is trying to convince the father to say that they needed time to decide but the father seems unimpressed.” Was the next report.


“What about the boy?” I whispered. In my excitement about my uncle having cornered the boy’s family, it did not even strike me that no one bothered to ask me anything.

“The boy hardly talks” said my brother. “It is his parents who seem to be arguing.”

Finally in about half an hour the trio emerged and my future mother in law expressed her approval and came in to give me a warm hug. There was one more formality to be fulfilled. A formal engagement! The family priest was called and a suitable date around 3 weeks after the ‘girl seeing’ was decided upon and a small engagement ceremony took place within 2 hours of their arrival.

I could believe what had happened. I ought to have felt thrilled but I was more into a shock mood. My brothers had marked my husband’s height on the wall and made me stand by the side to see how short I was in comparison. Every one was excited but me. I tried to recall the face of my future husband but try as much as I might I could not. All I could think of was that I would be leaving my carefree life and going off to an unknown place among unknown faces. I had hoped that I’d be allowed to stay back and finish my B. Ed. I desperately prayed that my marriage be put off till January. “But why?” my mother asked. In 6 months time you will still have to leave. We don’t have a reason to give them." Marriage is a big gamble and in my case as in most cases, it paid off.

Sorry about getting sentimental. It was not my intention. Today we are a happy couple with a good rapport and it hardly matters whether horoscope matched or not. My husband teases me saying that the height mentioned in the advertisement was wrong by 2 inches and that he ought to have taken my measurement before saying yes. I try asking him what transpired between his parents and him in my grandfather’s office. He says that he could have escaped in tact only by saying ‘yes’ so there was no question of saying NO. It was a type of house arrest!

I recently crossed Jalpaiguri on my way to Darjeeling. I remembered the man whose refusal enabled me to marry the man in my life and realized that perhaps all things work together for good.

My dreams??

Sue asked me to write about my dreams and pass it on the tag to others. I wonder if Sunayana knew me in a previous birth?? How did she come to know that I love dreams. There have been times when this irritating husband of mine wakes me up in the middle of a dream and I’ve tried to go to sleep hoping that my dream session would continue. Well those are dreams in a literal sense. I think Sue wants me to talk of my dreams in a figurative sense. So here I go-


As a teenager I’d dream about owning a bungalow in a small township with an open terrace adjoining a well furnished bedroom and soft music playing till well past midnight. I had read a novel by Indumathi and was totally impressed! I later settled down in a small township and was glad that at least that part of my dream came true. No I have no regrets and feel glad that I can still dream of owning a cute little bungalow. With domestic help becoming scarce, I’d prefer to let my dream remain that way. Its maintenance would exhaust me and I’d sleep off without listening to soft music. So let me DREAM about it for ever.


As a young mother I dreamed of seeing my children settle down to a decent, morally sound life. Life was a struggle back then but since my husband also shared my dream we were able to fulfill our dream to a reasonable extent. I am glad that my children are not only sensible but sensitive to the needs of the less fortunate and are always a step ahead of us in doing their bit for society. I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. My sons in law also complement the role of their respective spouses and if and when a daughter in law arrives on the scene I do hope she is also the same. Till then I’d continue to dream of a daughter in law who’d be friends with me.


I have dreams for my country. I dream that in some 20 years from now India will attract talent and brains from the west and we will dictate terms and others would abide by them. But unless we improve our infrastructure and offer basic civic amenities my dream may never be realized. Let us then work together to transform my dream into a reality. I dream that the teaching profession may someday regain its lost position and when a child is asked what he/she would like to become, he/she would proudly announce that she’d want to become a teacher. This cannot happen unless teachers become role models for children to look up to. Already I see a dearth of good teachers in the primary section of prestigious schools and if this trend continues our children will lack motivation and a whole generation will suffer. Let thinking citizens of our country come up with means to rectify the situation before it is too late.


On a lighter note I dream of a day when I don’t have to light the gas and prepare food. I don’t mind drinking cold coffee and eating fruits and salads. I dream that our township has theatres with advance booking facilities and also dream of vehicles that run on rechargeable batteries become the rule rather than an exception, so that our atmosphere would be less polluted.


Finally, I dream of authoring an international best seller but unfortunately I can’t think of a suitable topic. So could any one give me a topic to write on, so that this ambitious dream of mine comes true?

It is long since I pestered Srijith Unni and Starry nights.So I pass on this tag to them and to any one else who may want to take it up.Would srijith and lalitha oblige please?

Lost opportunities...

'For opportunity might knock twice
But age knocks only once.'

I flicked these lines from Joy’s blog. Of course with her permission. I found them beautiful. They seemed to reflect my own experience when on numerous occasions I missed the boat once, got a second chance but it was never the same.

I came to Jamshedpur as a young 22 year old with no great ambition or aim except perhaps to lead a happy go lucky life sans responsibilities. Eight years later I took up my present job. I was a graduate and joined as a Lab in charge which was a non teaching post, created after the abolition of the post of a demonstrator. The nature of work was the same. But promotion benefits were withdrawn. I loved my job and my department. Ours was a college with a difference. I improved my qualification started taking classes but promotion was a NO! NO! I sometimes wonder what might have happened if I had joined as soon as I reached Jamshedpur. I’d have joined as a demonstrator and by now I might have become a Reader since I would have been eligible for promotions. There is a time and age for every thing a late starter is as good as a non starter.

I did not give up easily. I qualified an eligibility test for lectureship and applied as a fresh candidate. My Ph.D. advisor tried his best to arrange for my viva before my interview. My thesis had been submitted but I could be awarded the degree only after the thesis had been evaluated and the viva-voce conducted. Nothing works the way we want it to. Not having a Ph. D. at the time of the interview was quoted as one among other reasons for my not getting the post.

Today I seem to see light at the end of the tunnel. It is a long story but to cut it short, many others like me joined hands a prepared a file and have managed to get it passed by the cabinet making us eligible to apply for a lecturer’s post. I have only 3 years of service left. Past experience tells me that notifications take a long time to get implemented. So when it ever gets implemented I may have retired proving once again that -

'For opportunity might knock twice
But age knocks only once.'

Teaching Experience -2

As a teacher there have been times when I have lost patience and reprimanded my students for their mistakes. Normally they take my outbursts in their stride because they know that I have their welfare in mind. There have been a few times when I have been answered back and I too have been able to understand that the particular student has been under some stress and has thus vented out her frustration. Luckily such occasions have been rare and usually after such an outburst the student becomes more motivated and makes an effort to show a remarkable improvement in her performance. I am particular that students do not copy diagrams from the book but try to draw scientific diagrams of what they actually see and this frustrates them a lot. They have no way out and I do not usually give in. Similarly I do not dictate notes or give them a list of important questions nor do I encourage them to take tuitions. Agreed, I am an outdated teacher – a living fossil - but at least I have enabled a few of my students to think. In the three years they spend with us a fondness sets in and in the final year we are almost friends and in their lighter moments they do share with us information about the nick names they’ve given us and what they find funny about us. The thought that I have to leave all this behind in about 3 years time weighs heavy in my mind. But isn’t it true that good times like bad ones do not last for ever? It is strange that all of us in the department are like minded and the kindred spirit that we share has been passed on to our students too. The job has been a fulfilling one in many ways, though frustrating in a few areas - thanks to the government or rather the lack of it. We do not get bright sparks for students but most are sincere and it definitely pays to be sincere and dedicated. When average students pass out in flying colors we do not need any monetary incentives.

The current batch final year students are a good bunch. So I was surprised that a good many turned up late for a practical class. Even after coming they did not start work and their indifference put me off. I scolded them for being late and said that I’d be taking a viva-voce at the end of the period before giving them their attendance. They worked silently, no smile, no consultations, no doubts….

I wondered if I had over reacted. The entire group was behaving like a set of robots. Finally I got up to ask questions based on the practical. I thought I saw tears in the eyes of a particularly bright student.

“Is anything wrong?” I asked.

“No, ma’am” was the reply.

I then saw that a few others also had tears in their eyes. I felt guilty for having scolded them. These were a group of sincere students and I had scolded them for their first mistake instead of giving them a chance.

“Are you girls upset that I scolded you?” I asked. By now 50% of the class was crying. This was an unexpected reaction. My HOD was watching everything with concern in her eyes.

Finally their story came out in bits and pieces. They had obtained their Part II mark sheets and many had scored less than what they had got in Part I. They were very disappointed and had been upset when they came to class. They were late on account of having to stand in a queue to get their mark sheets and my outburst had only added fuel to fire.

My heart went out to them. I told them that it was better that their Part II results were not as expected. They had a whole year to work hard and improve their scores. A high score may have made them over confident. My HOD added that they needed to be strong and learn to face adverse situations since life was full of surprises. I granted them permission to stop me mid sentence if ever I scolded them and they had a valid explanation to offer. The class then dispersed with their mood sobered and a determination to put in their best in the coming year.

Does candor pay?

Sometimes I wonder if it is okay to let people know that one is hurt or would it be better to let it be. What if the act was unintentional but hurting all the same? Take the case of my good friend Rekha for instance. She seems to have a problem accepting gifts that are of not much use to her. On two earlier occasions she returned gifts given by me saying that it would be better if I gave it to someone who could put it to good use. But when she repeated it a third time I had to tell her as politely as possible that it hurt me to take back gifts carefully chosen for her and suggested that she could pass it on to someone else of her choice. I gently pointed out that she had done so on earlier occasions though I could understand her predicament, it hurt all the same. Her response set me thinking. She felt that it was not fair that she should pass off my gift to someone of her choice and that it was only because I was close to her that she could feel free to return it. After all hadn’t she gladly accepted things that were useful to her? I was left wondering whether it was necessary for me to have brought up the topic at all. If intentions were good perhaps the best thing would be to swallow a little hurt.

As for myself, I prefer a little less candor. I’ve had a friend who pointed out that I was the worst looking in my family and toned down the statement y saying that she hoped that I did not mind her saying it. I pointed out that she could well have said that my sister and my mother, who were the targets of comparison, were better looking than me. After all isn’t a glass that is half empty also one that is half full? When my children were young and my weight was some 20 kgs less than what it is now, they looked chubby and cute while I appeared to have been starved to death with sunken cheeks and popping eyes. People would point out that they didn’t look like my children at all and I did not seem to mind. I’d smile as if I was the one who selected the right genes for them. I suppose one’s reaction changes according to circumstances.

There is no rule that applies to all people at all time and a person’s reaction also varies depending on his/her mood. There is truth in the saying that one is the master of the unspoken word and once spoken we become responsible for the reaction it provokes. Discretion in the expression of an opinion has never been my strength but I do try to word my criticism carefully so that if it must hurt, let it be at a minimal level. I wonder if I am right or are those who are known to be free with their choice of expression at the risk of upsetting their audience?

It is a tag world out here!

I was tagged by hillg’mom and I enjoyed doing it. Here I go!!
There are 3 rules.
Rule 1. The rules must be mentioned in the beginning of the tag.
Rule 2 You must list one fact that is somehow relevant to your life for each letter of your middle name. If you don’t have a middle name, use the middle name you would have liked to have had.
Rule 3. At the end of your blog post, you need to choose one person for each letter of your middle name to tag. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.
I don’t have a middle name. So I gave myself one—Lata

L—Love & Laughter – What would do if these two wonderful qualities did not enrich my life. I have experienced so much love from so many people that I may never ever be able to give as much as I received. And as for laughter I enjoy a good laugh and need an excuse to giggle away. I sometimes laugh aloud while reading a book and look up to see if others have noticed it and get on with my book.

A—Admiration – I find admirable qualities in almost all people I meet. More of it in those from the lower strata of society. We have Ajay who supplies tea in our college who is hunch backed and shorter than most men though not dwarfish. I am yet to find a more cheerful person. He feels so bad that I refuse tea with sugar and the sugar free one turns cold before he can bring it to my lab. I feel surprised that he should bother about me. He does not run the canteen and it should not worry him at all whether I drink or refuse tea. There is so much goodness in him that one can feel the vibes when he is around. There are more like him who would put many of us to shame by their good natured behavior.

T --- Tolerance – I am glad that I have plenty of it. And I want it to abound in our universe. Tolerance would solve most of the malaises that have made their way into our lives. The terrorist acts can be traced back to religious intolerance as also riots and strikes to political intolerance. If one is more tolerant it may be easier to understand the other person’s point of view and judge the situation without a prejudiced and pre-decided outlook.

A— Adaptability – As a teacher of Biology I emphasize the fact that organisms that are adaptable survive and those that don’t adapt perish. Look around and check out on all life forms and you will find that the environment sustains only those that adapt. Just a look at the branching in trees would show how well the same light source has been used by different plants. Some thrive in direct sunlight while others are satisfied with diffused light. Some have adapted to shady conditions and some have learnt to droop down when it is too hot. Is there not a lesson to be learnt from the plat kingdom that teaches us life’s lessons without actually lecturing to us from the dais? Adapt to the environment and you are sure to succeed.

So that’s it. Now I have to tag 4 people. Maybe just like that, whatsinaname, altoid and serendipity would like to take it up. Others are welcome if they feel inclined.

Is being good bad?

I always looked upon people in control of their emotions with respect. My mother was one of them. As children we never ever could answer her back or get away with saying anything under the sun. She was mild mannered, soft spoken and never encouraged us to judge people. Not only my mother but her sisters and brother were a nice lot so we grew up without actually witnessing ugly scenes and heated arguments. How such a mild mannered person could discipline us without raising her voice is something I wonder about to this day. I do feel tempted to pat myself on the back and claim that it was possible only because we were obedient children. But though 21 of us share a common gene pool (or at least 50% of it) as cousins, the permutation and combinations could not be identical. So I wonder, how then are we all the same when it comes to core issues?

My children however have a different take on the matter.

“How very boring it must have for you as a child! What a dull existence. See the spice I added to your life as a teenager. Your mom never had the pleasure.” Says my son.

“It is difficult to deal with an overdose of goodness. It seems so abnormal. Imagine being well behaved all the time!”

“Your home must have been like an extended hostel! No wonder you adjusted well to hostel life.”

I am not so sure about that. We too had our share of simple pleasures without having threatened to slit each others throats and my mother may not have encouraged arguments but we did voice contradictory opinions when required. I must admit that I could not discipline my children with silence as my mother had done. They felt free to quarrel and patch up, to listen to loud music and to play as much as they wanted as long as their school reports were decent enough and there were no physical injuries.

I often wonder whether my children were right in saying that being too good is bad. Whether in this world where might is right, a little aggression actually helps one deal with the competitive world that awaits them? Have the rules changed or was the world always a random assortment of different kinds of people, some aggressive and others mild but most just moderate?

Back with a bang!

Hi folks,
Nice of you guys to wish me a happy time with my kid and g'kid.It took me some time to get back to blogging 'cos one doesn't feel good after such a short visit.They stayed with us for just 12 days and oh my God!Time just flew past and they were gone.We meet to part and part to meet.But then why are meetings short and partings long?Why couldn't my children just be the kids they were some 20 years back.I think I know why.I was destined to have two cute little grand daughters!!More later.This is just to say that I am back to blogging.

Taking a break

Friends,
I am taking a break of about 20 days from the blogworld.My daughter is visiting along with her daughter and husband and I need to spare every minute available for them. I'll be inundating my site with news about them later. Till then 'Sayo Nara'!i'll read your posts as and when i find time.

Teen troubles-2

Mothers of teenage boys beware!! Do not be carried away by those innocent eyes and try to defend them unless you are absolutely sure. Oh yes, I agree. He is your son and right from the days of Lord Krishna mothers tend to believe that their sons are okay and it is these ‘others’ that are trouble makers and lay the blame on your poor innocent child. Isn’t it aptly described in the famous ‘Main Nahin makhan khayo’ song. Poor Krishna, the gopikas would smear his lips with butter and blame him of stealing it from their homes! I learnt my lesson when my son was in his XII standard. And remember I was a teacher myself.

I was getting ready for college when my son said that his computer Science teacher wanted to meet me.

“Me?” I asked, Why?”

“She is refusing to accept my record work and is threatening to give me a zero in my practical exams.”

Now my son has or rather had the habit of dropping bombshells at the most inappropriate moments. Like when I am giving finishing touches to my cooking or the exact moment I put on my slippers to leave home or any time when I hop from the kitchen to the bedroom and am frantically looking for my keys. Those are the precise moments when my mind is kind of confused and I pay minimum attention. My conversation is conveniently restricted to monosyllables or ‘oh’s and ‘I see’s. We talk of understanding child psychology and these brats are experts in analyzing parent psychology.

“Listen son” I said “I’ll talk to you in the evening. When does she want to meet me?”

He was also getting ready for school.

“Today” was his reply.

And you tell me now?” I was beginning to lose my temper.

“I forgot” he said. “ I remembered only when I was arranging my bag.”

“Why is she refusing to accept your record?”

“”I had to submit it on Friday. Father Principal sent me along with M… on Friday to invite the Principals of different schools for our annual day. I was late in coming back. There was a traffic jam in the Adityapur bridge. You can ask M….’s mom if you want to.”

M…..’s mother was my colleague so the facts could be verified.

“Did you explain this to your teacher?”

“I did, ,but she refuses to see reason.”

“What about M…?”

“He is in the Commerce section. I wish I had taken Commerce. It would have been so much better. Those guys have such fun.”

I agreed to come to his school in the afternoon and sped off to college. I took out time to find out from M…’s mother whether the boys had indeed gone around distributing invitation cards and she confirmed my son’s version including the traffic jam. My heart filled with pride at the thought of my son being entrusted with responsibility and that too by the Principal himself. How could his teacher be so insensitive, I wondered? After all my son was given a job by the Principal. I then thought that perhaps the teacher did not know that it was the Principal who had sent him. Rahul ought to have explained. She’d have surely understood if he had excused himself before leaving school.

It was with a biased mind that I went to meet the teacher. She sent word for my son who came looking like a lamb being led to the slaughter house.

“ Ma’am,” I began “I hear that you refused to accept his record work……’

She interrupted me mid sentence.

“He had to submit it on Friday., did he tell you that?”

“Oh yes ma’am” I was certain that I was on firm ground. “But he was sent to distribute cards by the Principal. On his way back there was a traffic jam in Adityapur and they were late on account of that. The bridge is narrow and a jam in the area takes hours to clear. I agree that he should have excused himself before leaving….”

I was again interrupted by the teacher. This time her question was directed to my son.

“Did you tell Father Principal that you had a practical class in the afternoon?”

“No, ma’am”

Turning to me she said, “Mrs. R………. let me complete the story for you. He went along with M……. because he wanted to have some fun. The school was providing them with a van and in his place I too would have liked to go about distributing invitation cards instead of attending my practical class. More so if my assignment was incomplete. Yes I strongly suspect that he hadn’t completed his assignment and offered his services the moment Father Principal started looking for someone to take the responsibility. Had he told him that he had a practical class, the Principal would have sent someone else. There were many others who could have done the job. If his assignment had been complete he could have guiven hit to someone to submit it on his behalf.”

I did not know where to hide my face. I was myself very particular about my students finishing their record work on time and I was stupid enough to get carried away by my son. I don’t even remember what I mumbled as response to the teacher’s claim. I remember asking my son to apologize and hurrying off from the place resolving never to take his side before hearing the other side of the story.

Happy Independence Day

Today is the Shashtiabdapoorty of our Independence. When a man turns 60 years old it is the custom among several Indian communities to celebrate the occasion with a get together which includes a prayer ceremony followed by a feast. This is generally hosted by his children and if the man has no issue his younger brothers and sisters do him the honor. This is in fact a way of acknowledging the role of parents in shaping their lives and of telling them that since they’ve done their bit it is time for them to relax and for the next generation to take charge. Is it not appropriate that we pay our tribute as children of this great nation in the most befitting manner?

Here are just a few things that we can do to be worthy of the freedom that we got due to the patience and perseverance of our great leaders.

1) Let us say NO to the customs and preferences that work against concept of peaceful co existence and disturb the natural balance of society. You’ve got me right. I mean the custom of offering and accepting dowry in whatever form. Please do no offer your sons for a price; they are too precious for that. And if by chance you do accept a price for him isn’t it proper that you hand him over to the bidder? I mean the highest bidder. You cannot accept a price and retain him as your property along with his wife as incentive bonus. No Sir/ Ma’am. You cannot hope to have the cake and eat it too.

2) Parents of girls please don’t treat your daughter’s marriage as an auction by offering a higher price for a boy being considered by your neighbor for his daughter. For all you know someone else may outbid you. If only a good number of you say NO to the atrocious demands made by parents of eligible boys the menace would automatically be thwarted.

3) Parents of young children are actually dealing with the nurture of national treasures. Please remember that there is no short cut to success. There never was and there never will be. Corruption in any form – whether you practice it or encourage it - would send a wrong signal to your children. They may never respect you or consider you worthy. Remember that you have a future with them. Do not make them heartless and unfeeling. You may be financially independent but never emotionally. Teach them values and you will reap rich rewards. And by your responsible behaviour it is the nation that will ultimately benefit.

4) They say charity begins at home and so it does. A country like ours is full of needy people. Let not your children grow up taking everything for granted. It will help them appreciate the facilities that are made available to them.

5) The media plays a great role in reporting various incidents that happen around us. Was it not for the visual media we may never learn about so many things happening in a distant place. Stories of rape and murder, wives being harassed for not producing a male heir and mothers throwing away new born infants, sometimes after brutally injuring them and daughters/sons speaking out against fathers are all reported. Channels compete with each other and claim that the story was an exclusive report. Does not responsible journalism call for an appropriate follow up of the news and a discussion with experts on possible solutions? The next sensational news takes over and the previous one is conveniently forgotten. I personally feel that this kind of reporting is not only cheap but it serves the singular purpose of putting ideas into the minds of adolescents. Correct me if I am wrong.

6) With the IT boom taking over, scientific research has taken a back seat. The quality if research being done is mediocre or plagiarized. The Ranchi University conducted tests to judge the candidates’ aptitude before allowing them to pursue research. Not a single candidate qualified in Physics, Chemistry and Mathematics. One of the reasons quoted was that the good ones have either left the state to pursue their studies elsewhere or have taken up IT jobs. The same may be the case with Arts subjects. I remember talking to a friend about how delightful I found Shakespeare’s Anthony and Cleopatra and how much we had enjoyed our English classes as undergrads. The lady, an MA in English Literature and an English teacher in a reputed English school in our town surprised me by saying that she had never read Shakespeare in the original. And this was some 15 years back. She had passed out from the school she taught in and it was affiliated to the ICSE board. In these days of ticks and crosses and answer being restricted to one word options, the joy of reading good literature has vanished. And yet with their superficial knowledge of subjects students easily get 95%. My days are almost over. I have only 3 years left of my career unless the retirement age is extended. But I still wonder if something can be done to change our approach towards education and make it less mark oriented.

7) Finally let us say a big NO to religious fanaticism. No religion supports bloodshed and killing of innocent people. Let us not return to the stone age after having culturally evolved.

This post is getting too long and I am afraid a little pessimistic. Ours is a country with innumerable resources that need to be channelized. Let us put our heads together and think how it may be done. Happy Independence Day to all of you.

Tagged!!

Whatsinamane has tagged me and wants me to give a list if things I am fetish about. As of now I feel that I am not really obsessed about anything if that’s what fetish means. Let me find out.

1) As a child I would collect holy pictures. Mainly Baby Jesus and Holy Mother. I had collected a good number of them when a friend- not really a friend more an acquaintance - came home and on seeing my collection and asked for a few of them. Not knowing how to say no, I gave away the whole bunch and stopped collecting them. Why I gave away all of them is something I did not understand then and do not understand now. However, I remember feeling bad about it for days together.

2) There was a time when I was crazy about story books and while in middle school I’d read any book I could lay my hands on. I remember borrowing books from a lending library at the rate of an anna per day which was rather expensive for a school girl whose weekly pocket money was only 4 annas. My father later made me a member of a nearby library and I read a good many Hindi books depicting the lives of various groups like Dogras and Brajvasis in the form of Lok Kathas. My entry into boarding school changed all that and life became organized. We were not allowed to read story books during study hours and lights were put out at 10 pm. So my reading habit had to be curtailed. I am rather selective these days and do not read everything available. I read more by recommendation.

3) I was very particular about regularity in submission of practical work till about 5 years ago and my students were well aware of this. They’d approach me a day or two before the actual date of submission and ask for permission to submit it at a later date if they had valid reasons. I don’t remember an instance when I had to ask to be excused as a student. I am a little relaxed now mainly because I realize that a B. Sc. Degree alone cannot help them land a job and many are attending coaching classes, computer classes and preparing for competitive exams. My old students would be surprised at my change of heart. Sorry children, I’ve given you a tough time but it was for your good.

4) I am particular about family members rinsing their plates with water after a meal. I feel this not only makes it easier for he servant who washes them but also looks neat. This rule applies to my husband as well who washes his plate when I am around and leaves it unwashed when I am not. Bad of him I must say.

5) I love dhobi washed clothes, well starched and ironed. I even get my synthetic stuff lightly starched and ironed. I feel I am wearing a new sari/suit when they are laundered by the dhobi.

6) I have a fetish for clearing my wardrobe every now and then. I give away clothes when they are in a reasonably good condition so that the person I give it to can use them for a decent period of time. I give away other items too that may be put to good use by others and are simply occupying space in my cupboard. I cannot however part with worn out cotton stuff. I need them for hot summer afternoons and dusting purposes.

I see that I too have a number of obsessions that I was hardly aware of. There may be more and I may actually end up doing a sequel. let me tag artnavy,sunitha and itching to write if they haven't done it already.

Teaching Experience-1

There have been some amusing moments in my career as a teacher that added spice to an otherwise sagging career for reasons mentioned in an earlier post. Those were days when I was planning to improve my qualification and had applied for a post graduate course and were awaiting the announcement of selected candidates. The examiners who’d come for practical exams were supportive and would encourage me in all possible ways. Thus a rapport had been established between me and professors from the PG department and without sounding conceited I must add that they had no doubt about my sincerity as a teacher. I was very lucky to have a nice department and we never went canvassing for marks or recommending roll numbers for better marks. The credit solely goes to my HOD who treated all of us as equals and placed absolute trust in our capabilities. We have only grown closer over the years and efforts to break the group have failed. More about it in a later post.

On one occasion I had to stay behind owing to family responsibilities while my husband took the children to his sister’s place in Orissa for the summer vacation. A gentleman who introduced himself as my husband’s colleague came home and gave me his daughter’s roll number saying that she had been studying in our college for the past 4 years but was too scared to introduce herself to me. Her practical exams were to be held soon and there was no point hesitating now. So he took it on himself to let me know that his daughter was one of the examinees.

“Why is your daughter scared of me?” I asked.

“She says that you are very strict and refuse to sign late assignments.”

“Anything wrong with that?” I asked, then added “wouldn’t it have been better if you had introduced her to me earlier? I could have helped her with her practicals and explained the experiments to her. What am I supposed to do now? In the examination room all students are equal to me. I cannot do much. She will have to show work.”

“Madam, she is like a daughter to you. She gets very nervous during exams. Please help her as much as you can.” The gentleman left. I was fuming against a husband who was conveniently out of sight and hearing.

The girl was anything but nervous. Now that her father had approached me she thought that it was her right to ask me the name of each of the specimen provided. She wanted to be told not only the name, but the description of the given material and expected me to dictate the answers to her. I was shocked at her audacity and wondered what her father had told her. Within minutes I turned to the examiner and said,

“Sir, this girl seems to have a lot of doubts. Do I have your permission to clarify them?”

The examiner was amused.

“Come here child” he called her. The girl came forward.

“You have been given 5 specimens. You are supposed to identify them and prepare slides. You need to draw labeled diagrams and describe them as well. That is a lot of work and you have only 3 hours to finish your work. If you have a problem with any of the given material I’ll get it exchanged. Tell me which portion you’ve studied well. I’ll ask your teacher to replace them. Once you get a material of your choice I expect you to get on with your work without disturbing others.”

The girl remained silent not uttering a word. The examiner continued-

“If I give you the names will that help? Why only you I’ll announce the names for all to hear.”

The girl did not know how to respond. I was watching the whole thing with interest. The examiner sent her back to her seat. Turning to me he said with a twinkle in his eye –

“She will not trouble you ‘cos she knows that I am here to help her. How many can have the privilege?”

I later told him of way I was approached by the girl’s father. He laughed the matter off saying that I should not get worked up if I was approached by anyone to influence the examiner. “A student who has studied need not be helped. One who hasn’t cannot be helped. Either way you have no role to play. I have been getting roll numbers since last week. I take it from them and throw them away. You can do the same. When we sit to evaluate papers as teachers, it is impossible to ignore merit. I haven’t yet checked the papers. On the basis of the class record and viva-voce I can tell you who happens to be the best among your students.” He then mentioned a roll number and when I checked she was indeed our best student.

He then added with a knowing smile on his face-

“Now don’t you pester your husband for giving your reference. Nor do you have to explain anything to anyone. Just forget the whole episode. These parents do not understand that by their action they are hampering their ward’s progress instead of helping them. As for this girl I assure you that her father will never have the courage to come to you again.”

I smiled at him with renewed respect. Teachers in Jharkhand and Bihar are the same as elsewhere and so are the students. The fault lies elsewhere.

My Bihari Bretheren

In the many years that I have spent in Jamshedpur I have found the natives of Bihar to be very accommodating and kind. Though I have not had the experience of residing in North Bihar we’ve had many acquaintances from North and Central Bihar. Known for their simplicity of nature these people sometimes come out with startling facts that their counterparts in other parts of India dare not reveal. A neighbor once confided that her brother who was a sub inspector in New Delhi was doing very well for himself. As a matter of fact she added that he was making a lot of extra money, may be not as much as he would have made had he been posted in Bihar but good enough for a decent living. If I had not known otherwise I’d have taken her words to mean that he was taking up additional part time assignments. We had another lady who announced to any one who was interested that her son in law to be was earning a decent amount as ‘oopar ki kamayi’ and was not dependent on his salary alone for a living.

My daughter must have been about 8 or 9 years old when she asked an auto driver to drop her home along with two of her friends one of whom was running a high temperature. The girl in question was living near our house and they normally came back by the town bus. On reaching home my daughter in her naivety gave him a rupee as the auto fare because that was the amount the girls would give as bus fare. The auto driver simply laughed saying-

“you give me a rupee for dropping you at your doorstep? It is alright. Ask your friend to take some medicine and go to sleep. She should be okay by tomorrow.”

Another person in his place would’ve asked her to fetch money from her mother but this man understood that the child was not deliberately cheating him and laughed it off in good humor.

We also have the example of an honest head examiner at a tabulation centre responsible for the tabulation of Intermediate results. It was the last day and the examiner arrived early when a villager from North Bihar accosted him saying that he wanted to get his son passed but the head examiner was asking for too much money to pass him. He had already paid him a thousand rupees but the man wanted another 1000 rupees and he did not have that much. He was willing to pay him another five hundred and would he intervene on his behalf and get the head examiner to agree? The examiner was shocked. When did he ever ask for money? And if this poor villager had indeed paid the amount who had pocketed it?

"Did you give him the money yourself?" he asked.

“No sir”, he said "one of the peons negotiated and brought down the amount. I paid the fellow fifty rupees for his services. After all he was taking so much risk on my behalf. He is a family man and should he get caught he’d lose his job. I gave the amount to him. Now he says that the examiner wants more money. I don’t mind paying, after all it is my child’s future that is at stake. The problem is that I don’t have that much.”

“What is your son’s roll number?” the examiner asked.

The man rattled off a 6 digit number. It sounded familiar. A peon had approached him from time to time enquiring about the status of the particular candidate. And he remembered telling him that the candidate had passed in all subjects and was likely to get a first division or at least a high second division. The fellow had swindled a poor man of his hard earned money and was asking for more.

The head examiner simply said “your son has passed and there is no need to pay any one more money. Remember that he has passed on his own merit. Leave him alone. He’ll do well in life. Take the next available transport and leave this place immediately.”

Saying so the examiner entered the tabulation centre. When he turned around he saw the man being cornered by the peon who might have pocketed another 50 rupees as ‘Mithai ka paisa’ and the man would have willingly paid him the amount instead of asking for the money already paid.

My heart goes out to these simple folk, a community where a vegetable vendor may give one 100 grams of extra vegetable for a kind word from you and a bus conductor would never charge the old fisherwoman who called him ‘beta’. On the contrary he’d help out with her basket load and stop the bus at a location best suited for her to get down. He’d then turn to other passengers saying “What could I do. She calls me beta and I know for a fact that she has no money.

Please don’t think that I am supporting corruption or ticket less travel. I’d be the first person to raise my voice against such things. The driver and conductor are paid a part of their daily collection as incentive in Jamshedpur and by letting a poor woman travel free they stand to lose. Similarly we have examples of fathers selling property to grease the palms of cunning politicians so that their wards may secure a government job. They are led to believe that this is the only way. It is the way these simple people are misled that upsets me. They are a nice lot, maybe a little indolent but certainly not mean. I have had some reliable Bihari friends and though I have disagreed with their views on several issues be it dowry demand or preference for a male issue, I can see through the façade of a rough exterior and understand the real person within.

Ever had the experience?

Are these inanimate objects really so or do they have a mind of their own? I sometimes feel that they love to trouble you at the most inopportune moments. Can you explain why these things happen

1) You have almost finished cooking, just a little seasoning to do and your cylinder runs out of gas and you have to install a new one.

2) You are just about to lock the front door with the husband giving you a look that more a stare accusing you of taking ever so long to get ready when the telephone rings. More often than not it is a wrong number or a distant cousin making one of those rare calls. Remember that hubby will not take the call.

3) The day you carry an umbrella it will not rain and you deliberately leave it at home and come back drenched.

4) You keep staring at the milk it will not even start simmering, your attention gets diverted and you turn round for a minute it will spill over and mess up the kitchen.

5) You are already late for work, your father in law will remind you to get his medicines, husband will ask you to get the pass book updated and the child will remind you that his Computer Science teacher wanted to talk to you. You nod your head to everything only half listening and your scooty will add to your misery by refusing to start. The petrol level is bound to be low and there is a mad rush at the gas station with at least 25 people clamoring for petrol at the same time.

6) The day you decide to make do with light snacks always coincides with the day you husband/children are famished and expect to be served a sumptuous meal and this will also be the day when your maid doesn’t turn up.

7) You are exhausted after a hard day’s work and want to relax with a book and the odd power cut will happen at the precise moment and you will never remember where to look for the candle. If you find the candle the match box will vanish and vice versa. Your husband will suddenly decide to be helpful and invariably come in your way and to top it he’ll blame you for blocking his way.

8) The train will be on time on every day except the day you decide to travel irrespective of whether you are arriving or departing.

9) When you try to book your gas cylinder the phone is invariably engaged except when your dealer gives you he good news that it will take at least 25 days to arrive.

10) You have a particular color in mind when you shop for saris and you never seem to find it.

The Hindu Way Of Life.

Sometime back I read a post at Korrodu’s blog about a conversation he had with a second generation Polish immigrant on polytheism as practiced by Hindus. The gentleman in question was committed to preserving trees and had done some research on the various goddesses in Indian and Greek mythology. He perhaps called himself a ‘Tree hugger’. It would not be fair on my part to try and repeat what has already been said in the post. It would be best enjoyed when read in the original. However, I have wanted to write something on how I perceive my religion ever since I read the piece.It is not my intention to start a debate on religion. These are just a few observations and not meant to criticize or hurt any sect including more serious minded Hindus

I have never been a deeply religious person. The concept of an all powerful God who is waiting to punish mankind for every sin committed does not appeal to me at all. Were it so, how could all those hardened criminals who plan and execute terrorist act continue to do so? Why are innocent children being born with physical deformities? One gets treated to an over dose of crime report in the various news channels which seem to put ideas into the minds of young children more than trying to address the problem. I stopped watching serials long back and now I run away from news channels as well. Why does this all powerful God let all this happen?

Keeping this in mind I started reading God Delusion by Richard Dawkins. The book, I am afraid did not appeal to me and I discarded it midway. Dawkins claims that on a scale of seven ranging from those who have complete faith in the existence of an all powerful God to out and out atheists, he claims that he occupied the sixth position, just a shade above hard core atheists. I rank myself in the fourth position even at the risk of being called a fence sitter. Extremism has never appealed to me and have always been wary of opinionated discussions. Flexibility and a respect for the other person’s viewpoint is what I prefer.

Hinduism as far as perceive it is a way of life. I was just 13 years old when in the girl’s dormitory of the boarding school, I was cornered by a group of girls who insisted that I was bound to go to hell because I followed a religion that worshipped 33,000 gods. ‘You are an idol worshipper’ they insisted ‘and you worship trees and stones, you are bound to rot in hell’. Even at the tender age of 13 I was able to reason that I could never go to hell if I was honest and loved my fellow human beings. But unfortunately my mother had not explained why we worshipped 33,000 gods and I could not refute their claim that we Hindus did indeed worship trees and rivers. Today I am more enlightened and I can understand that Hinduism is more a way of life than a hard core religion. To me it appears to be a means of sustaining one’s self when everything seems to fail and life seems to be doomed. I am truly grateful to our warden who intervened and scolded us by saying that we should respect the other person’s faith and look for good things in their scriptures even if we did not fully subscribe to it. Her words have remained with me ever since.

Hinduism encourages the worship of nature. A practicing Hindu waters Tulsi and Peepal early in the morning. Aren't these two plants of immense medicinal value? Is it not important to keep rivers that are our main source of water, clean? It was perhaps not possible to explain the medicinal value of plants to a layman who toiled hard to make ends meet. It was easier to say that the scriptures expected him to do so. The same applies to the worship of rivers too.The Hindu religion as I see it advocates the conservation of all biological and environmental resources. Our sages had understood natures contribution to our well being from time immemorial.

Turmeric and kumkum prepared from turmeric were exchanged by Hindu ladies during festivals and auspicious days. Is it not true that turmeric has a natural cosmetic value and a daily application of turmeric keeps your skin glowing?

Each of our deities have a different animal as their ‘vahan’ rats and snakes included. Environmental studies warn us of the dangers that are likely to be encountered if the food chain/web is disturbed. Herbivores, carnivores, omnivores and scavengers are all important for ecological balance. Is it any wonder that animals like the lion, tiger, monkey and the elephant and birds like the eagle, vulture, parrot and peacock as well as a host of other organisms are accorded importance?

Then the question of polytheism-

Hinduism sees God in every living organism and a closer look at the different deities will reveal that each one is worshipped for a different quality. A combination of all such qualities symbolizes an almighty God but a proper understanding of such a God requires a highly seasoned mind. It has been taken up step by step and one’s perception varies according to one’s understanding and all levels are acceptable.

Wealth and valor, health and happiness are all collectively essential but do not individual requirements vary? What is the purpose of having wealth if one does not have the health or intelligence to put it to good use? Worshipping Durga, Lakshmi and Saraswati during Navaratri perhaps indicates that each of these are important and one needs to thank God for a combination of the three aspects, each one important in its own way. Navaratri was also a time for social interaction among ladies and a time to give small gifts to the needy. It is important that this purpose is kept in mind while celebrating the umpteen festivals according to the Hindu calendar.

Finally, it is important to understand that the triumph of good over evil is the essence of all religions including Hinduism. Hindu Gods have had their share of troubles and have ultimately come out in flying colors. Does it not signify that one should not be deterred by setbacks and victory tastes sweeter when one has worked for it? And should one fail despite all effort what better way of gathering strength to start all over again than by attributing failure to past misdeeds and considering it important to do one’s duty and not worry about results?

I do not know if there is really a heaven or hell awaiting me but I do know that I find solace in Hindu way of thinking. Korrodu has summed it up beautifully. I quote-

“Thus becoming a Hindu is a life long unceasing process. This is precisely the goals of Hinduism according to my current level of understanding.”

Teen Troubles

It must have been around midnight when the phone rang. I woke up with a start and my first thoughts were ‘I hope all is fine’. My mother had just survived a stroke and hadn’t yet fully recovered. My children were away from home – two in Bangalore and one in Ranchi. I picked up the phone and it was my son on the other end.

“Mummy! Note down this number and ring back”

“Is anything wrong? Why are you calling…”

He cut off the line mid-sentence. I hadn’t noted the number because he did not give me any to note down.

He rang up again and when I responded he began to straight away dictate a number.

“Wait a second. Let me get a pen and paper.”

“What were you doing all this while? I’ll call again.” The line went dead. I got a pen and paper when he rang up again and gave me a mobile number.

“What’s the matter Ra……..” He cut off the phone again.

I was fuming from within and decided not to call. My husband was fast asleep and why wouldn’t he sleep through the night? After all he had a super woman for a wife ready to tackle phone calls at midnight. The phone rang again.

“Mummy! Ring back, it is urgent.”

I was wide awake by now and rang up. He immediately picked up the phone.

“Our principal wants you and daddy to come here next week. He is threatening to throw me out of college if you guys don’t turn up.”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing mummy. Absolutely nothing to deserve this punishment. I’ll give you his phone number. Talk to him.”

He gave me a number which I noted down. I remembered the time when my father in law would chase him with walking stick in hand threatening to break his bones but this was something serious.

“When did he tell you this?”

“This evening”

“Why did you wait till midnight to tell me?”

“I am calling from my friend’s mobile. Incoming calls are free after midnight. I asked you for a mobile connection. You didn’t get me one.”

“Listen very carefully Rahul” I said, “I am not talking to anyone unless you come out with your side of the story. I need to know the facts. Otherwise you can ask your father to do the talking”

“Not daddy, he’ll never be able to deal with our princy. Actually what happened was that he fined me 200 rupees and I did not have money to pay up. I went after him apologizing like mad. He left without saying anything. He is now accusing me of not paying the fine. How am I supposed to know that he hadn’t forgiven me?”

“How did you assume that he had excused you?”

“You are arguing for the heck of it mummy. Half the money you send is used up to pay fines. Someone breaks a bulb and the entire floor is fined Do you know I am so broke that I do not even have money to call you from a booth. Here I am trying to make do with the amount you send me and get fined for the silliest of reasons. You don’t even try to understand.”

My heart melted at the thought of my son staying in a hostel in far off Bangalore stranded without a penny in his pocket.

“Now that you’ve told me, go to sleep in peace. I’ll talk to your Principal. I cannot come in person though.”

“That’s my mummy. I love you soooooo much.”

“What happened?” this was my dear husband who had been listening all the while. I repeated the conversation that I had with my son.

“Okay try talking to the Principal. If he doesn’t relent we can put him in a local college. It is not as if children who study here do not fare well.”

How very practical of him I thought.

The next day I did talk to the Principal. It was not as easy as I thought. The first time I rang up he was in a meeting. The second time he had gone on his rounds. The third time he was taking a class. Finally around 3:00 PM the next day I managed to track him down.

“Sir,” I began “This is Rahul’s mother. I was told that you wanted to speak to me.”

“Ma’am, please come over and take your son away. I am giving him his TC. We don’t need him in our college.”

I did not know how to react when I suddenly realized that he was dealing with the same age group as me - Children in their late teens. I decided to appeal to the teacher in him.

“Sir, I am sure you have valid reasons for taking such a harsh decision. I deal with college going teenagers every working day. And believe me sir, it is not an easy job. They are just out of school and are not able to deal with their new found freedom. But can we afford to be harsh on them? They are after all children and even if we scold them they still have no one else to turn to and will come back to us. I will stand by your decision but is there a possibility of letting him off with a warning? I for my part give him strict instructions to abide by your rules.”

That did it! The Principal found an ally in me and went on to tell me that he wanted the best for his students and did not want my son to get into bad company. He went on to say how difficult it was to tackle these teenagers. He finally ended by asking me not to worry about my son. It was the responsibility of the college to bring out the best in him. He expressed his desire to meet us in person and I promised to meet him as soon as possible. I had the rare advantage of understanding both the Principal’s perspective and the plight of a parent.

I rang up and asked my son to pay the fine and be careful in future. This was the first of many episodes that drove me nuts when my son was at college. Today he claims that he'd like to send his watrds to the same place if and when he heads a family.

Judgmentally Yours!

The judgment tag is doing the rounds and I’ve been tagged by Just like that to come out with a few things that I Judge. Well I am a very bad judge and will end up giving the petitioner and the defendant equal marks only to be hated by both. I’ve had the experience so many times that I’ve stopped feeling bad. So here I go ‘judgmentally yours’!!

1)I judge those who make unkind remarks about a physical impairment and crack vulgar jokes referring to skin color lack or excess of height, stammering etc utterly disgusting. If you have chiseled features and a graceful gait thank your parents for handing the right set of genes to you. Here again it was chance that played a part and it could have been the other way round for you too. One can take credit for a good nature but certainly not for good features.

2)I judge those couch potatoes who not only monopolize the TV every waking hour but also imagine that they have a right to comment loudly and disturb others who may not share their interest.

3)I judge parents who approach examiners during/before or after a practical examination. In my experience the roll numbers given are thrown into the dustbin and every student who appears for the examination is marked on her performance. But parental approach undermines the ability of the child and she ends up feeling that she deserved less than the marks awarded to her. Stop approaching us parents. You are harming your child’s career in ways that you do not understand. LEAVE THEM ALONE.THEY”LL BE FINE.

4)I judge people who spit in public places. The wall of the stairs leading to our flat has paan stains at almost every turn. I hate it. Are you listening?

5)I judge teachers who take personal affront to their student’s behavior. They are children and lack experience. Very often they do not even mean what they say or do. I have it from experience that if students realize that you don’t bear them a grudge they go out of their way to make amends and end up loving you all the more for it. I am not suggesting that they should not be corrected. Once they have been reprimanded forget the incident and forgive them. It yields wonderful results.

6)I judge those who remain silent spectators when you make mistakes and are quick to point out when things go wrong. The ‘I thought as much’ look annoys me.

7)I judge mothers who do not tell their daughters that marriage is not what one reads about in Mills and Boon novels. Girls who enter matrimony struggle more than their counterparts who know what to expect of it.

8)I judge husbands who watch TV or read the newspaper when visitors arrive and expect their wives to entertain them. “I don’t know what to talk is” the common excuse. Mister! Please understand that your wife is no superwoman. She was not born holding a microphone in her hand. If she is preparing tea or taking out snacks it is your job to hold a polite conversation with the guest/s. More so if he/she is your relative or office colleague.

9)I judge men/women who do not share their mental agony, financial or otherwise with their better halves. I have known men who would borrow money at absurd interest rates rather than admit they do not have money to spare to buy new clothes for a festival. “She would not understand” is what they say. Be honest with her and may be she will. You are not doing the right thing by not telling her at all. Similarly wives hide their health related issues from the husband and very often the problem aggravates and the entire family suffers.

10)Finally I object to my husband treating me as if I were a teenager just out of school. He asks me if I have enough money every time I leave the house and reminds me to fill up the petrol tank of my car after a stipulated lapse of time. Agreed, he is 8 years older than me but if he has retired am I also not close to retirement. Why not let me run out of cash and petrol once in a while? May be I’ll learn from experience. Please don’t take his side. Remember that after all you are my friends!!

An Admirable group!

Getting there now has tagged me and asked me to mention those whom I admire. I admire so many of them that it was difficult to short list the group. I managed to pick out 10 and here is the final list.

I admire the following people-

1)Mahatma Gandhi for treating his family members and fellow countrymen at par. The father of our nation stands tall among politicians whose sole purpose is to curry favors for their family as well as seven generations to come.

2)Our outgoing President Dr. Abdul Kalam, for making himself available to the common man despite his busy schedule. I learnt from a reliable source that he wrote a personal, hand written letter of appreciation, to a person who sent him a book of Tamil poems written by her. He is known to have advised farmers in Bihar on farming techniques and has a soft corner for school children.

3)My husband, who otherwise drives me crazy, promised to look after his parents, unemployed brother and unmarried sister at the time when his father’s retirement was due and his own job was nowhere in sight. He stuck to his word against all odds. Hat's off to him.He doesn't read my blog so let this be our little secret.

4)My children who rose to the occasion and started taking public transport back from school from the tender age of 7 and 5 without a complaint when we decided on saving the money spent for their transport by rickshaw. My heart would melt on seeing the pride and joy in their faces when on an odd day I’d be able to pick them up on my way back.

5)The servant maid who slogs all day with her family feeding on left over food given by her employers but is still large hearted enough to share a part of it with a beggar woman in the street corner.

6)With corruption being the norm rather than an exception the class IV employees of our college, drawing a mere Rs.2000/- refuse to indulge in underhand dealings and still nurse hopes of a solution to their problems.

7)The mother who lets go her son and stays away from his life so that the uncompromising daughter in law may let him live in peace. Actually there a number of them.

8)My ex servant who is not only able to forgiver an employer of hers for swindling more Rs. 35,000/- of her hard earned money that she trusted him with, but is also grateful that he helped with the hospitalization of her son who met with a serious accident.

9)My friend Prema who is physically handicapped having survived a stroke, but yet finds time to ring me up and enquire about my welfare if I fail to contact her for more than a month. I am truly put to shame by her concern.

10)Last but not least I admire the patience shown by the common man who struggles to make ends meet, the housewife who has to walk for miles to fetch drinking water and the millions who have no access to basic health care. They survive by sheer will power with nothing but hope to fall back on.

Good and evil?

I sometime wonder what makes a person good or for that matter wicked? I feel one is made that way. I am good to people because I find it easier to be so. It is not as if I don’t want to be mean. When ever I find myself at the receiving end of some atrocious behavior of a really mean minded person, I do resolve to pay him/her back with a similar if not worse behavior. I rehearse my dialogue and think of some absolutely mean things to say. I try hard to remember how hurt I felt and announce to anyone who cares to listen that enough was enough and that I was not taking it any more. Days go by and within a few days I find myself looking for excuses to justify the person’s behavior. I decide that she perhaps got up from the wrong side of her bed or that her children –brats that they were- must have given her a tough time. He/she must have had a quarrel with his/her spouse and if not anything else the sultry weather was enough to drive one crazy. Finally I end up deciding that the poor thing considers me a close ally. After all one cannot feel free to yell at strangers. If one can feel relieved by venting out their frustration on me I should be matured enough to handle it. Those younger than me ‘know not what they do/say’ and those older than me ‘have a right to’ be so. I now realize that I should have taken up law. I am rather good at finding excuses for people and I seem to defend my offenders better than they would do for themselves. Too late anyway!

With such an attitude is it any wonder that I cannot remain angry with anyone for long?
Jokes apart I really wonder what makes people mean? I know from experience that people like me are a majority. Absolute angels are almost non existent and really wicked people are also few in number. The problem with those who come across as mean is that they nurse a kind of complex that prevents them from acknowledging that they were wrong. Some of them are in reality absolutely smart people, good organizers, and meticulous planners and have many good qualities that they deliberately cover up. They are basically diffident people who cannot take a set back and what better way to hide their lack of confidence than by throwing tantrums at the drop of a hat.

I am so glad to be what I am. I was never a beauty queen and no amount of ‘malish’ and ‘polish’ could ever make me different. It has been such a luxury not having to worry about my appearance all the while. I had a friend who would go back to the hostel and change her dress if someone in the class wore something similar to hers. She had to be told how good she looked each and every day and as teenagers we had fun at her expense and took turns to say so, while the rest of us suppressed a smile or giggled when she was not looking. She was a topper but could not take it, if on a good day (bad perhaps?) someone else got half a mark more than her. I always felt that her energy ought to have been better utilized. Unfortunately she had no friends when she left college and no one bothered to keep in touch with her.

I feel sorry for such people who actually suffer a lot despite having the best in life. They are wary of losing out on non issues most of which are imagined. In their effort to remain supreme they deny themselves the simple pleasures that life offers. I would really like to help them realize that life is too precious to be wasted on trivialities and little acts of kindness fetch great rewards. But here again I must add that what seems trivial to me may not be all that trivial to them. It may be best to let them lead their life the way they want to because I can neither hope to understand their viewpoint nor expect them to understand mine.

PROGRESSIVE EVOLUTION

Year 1940: Father to son – “ do you know? We went to school only after working for 2 hours in the farm. We ate left over food for breakfast and walked 10 miles however inclement the weather. We learnt multiplication tables before we turned eight. Evenings would be cool even in peak summer and having worked so hard we’d doze off under the baniyan tree after studying for a while. There was no electricity and we used kerosene lamps to study.

Year 1970: Son to grandson – “do you know we walked 2 miles to the nearest bus stop and took the available public transport to school. Five of us sisters and brothers would sit in the courtyard under a common light and do our home work. My mother would make us fetch rice from the ration shop and my sisters would help in the kitchen. We could study in peace only after doing the allotted chores. Tuitions were unheard of and we worked on our own. We used old news papers to fan ourselves in summer.

Year 2000: Grandson to great grandson – We went to school by auto-rickshaw It was only when he failed to turn up that my dad would drop us off at the school gate. My parents took it on themselves to help us with our studies and it was only in higher classes that we dared to ask for tuitions in a subject or two. The study room doubled up for the guest room and most of the time we studied in the bed room or dining space. The only room with a ceiling fan was used by my father to receive friends.

Year 2030: Great great grandson to his friend – “Can you believe this. My father actually went to school to study. So what if he drove a two wheeler from the age of twelve. Online classes and video conferences with experts were unheard of. My great grandfather had to learn multiplication tables by heart and used his fingers for adding up. My father had a calculator with the most primitive features and it was as good as not having one. And people had to actually clear all papers for a pass certificate. To counter this they took tuitions in almost every subject right from Grade 1. Attendance was a must and there was no flexibility in the choice of subject, school timing and timetable. They wore uniforms to school like army men and on top of it carried books to school since online versions were not available and not all children had access to computer education. What a loss of man hours. There was no central AC and it was a rare facility to have an AC in the mmaster bed room. People actually switched off lights manually and locked cars and doors with their hands. I feel really sorry for them. Even if they had been given the facility they could not have put it to use!

Failed Mission

Till last month I used to pride myself on being an expert in making dosais. In fact dishing out paper thin dosai was the first culinary skill I mastered when I became a full time home maker. So much so I would offer to make dosais at my friends’ places whenever we had a get together.

“How do you manage to make them so effortlessly” my good friend Meera would ask.

I’d be gloating from within but in the most humble tone I’d reply that it was no great achievement and with a little effort she’d be able to master the art herself. She was never confident and I’d offer to make them for her family when time permitted. Those were days when I was not working and TV had not made its entry into our homes. This was a form of entertainment and I would help Meera grind the batter in my manual grinder and prepare masala dosais for her family on many a Sunday evenings. To my children those were days when they could run up and down the stairs, scream at the top of their voices and behave like prisoners on parole. I do long for those days when there was a healthy interaction between neighbors and we could walk in unannounced as and when we pleased. My children practically grew up in their house.I sometimes wonder when it all changed. Ours is a small township and Durga pooja was an occasion when the entire town would dress up and visit the various pandals along with their families. Meera’s sons would come running to show me their new dress and the joy one saw in their eyes when I approved of their appearance and their pride when I remarked how smart they looked……… well those days of simple pleasures are never to come again.

They say pride goes before a fall. But having cooked for the past 34 years I take it all for granted and the sense of achievement when a preparation turned out well is no longer there. So when I went to Trichy I offered to make dosais.

It was a hot snd sultry evening and the lady of the house welcomed my help and leaving me to deal with the batter she joined the rest of the family in the portico.

I was glad that she had a non stick tawa and with great confidence I poured the batter and started spreading it. But wait a sec….. I thought I was supposed to make dosais and the batter had rolled itself into a misshapen lump that looked more like an idli than a dosai.

‘The batter is too thick’ I thought and added a little water and tried again. This time it started flowing even before I could spread it and when I tried to give it a shape it looked as if it has been nibbled at by a rat. I was not the one to giveup easily. ‘The proportion must be wrong so let me add some rice flour’ I thought. I looked for the rice flour and was about to add it to the batter when my cousin in law came to check if I needed help. Seeing my plight she said that I was perhaps taking a long time to spread the batter.

“start spreading it immediately and don’t over heat the tawa” she said.

I poured another ladleful and spread it as if I had enrolled for a marathon. This time the batter rolled up into four lumps instead of one and parts of it remained stuck to the ladle. I was convinced that the quality if rice had something to do with my bad performance. Luckily I did not air out my expert opinion.

“Let me try” offered my cousin in law. I was kind of sure that she would not succeed where I had failed. But no!! Here she was spreading out the same batter with practiced ease into a paper thin dosai while I stood watching like a fool. How do I convince her that in my own set up I do a good job of it and that her cousin (my husband) is not starved to death in my hands? I give up. Any suggestions?

The leader I resemble.

What Famous Leader Are You?
personality tests by similarminds.com

There was a mention that the more qns answered the more accurate the result.Well I answered 18 qns and I resembled Abraham Lincoln.I answer 27 and I am more like Mother Theresa.What if I go on and answer 45??No time now will check it out.

My Extended Family

It was after a gap of 13 years that I visited my husband’s extended family this summer. I have always known them to be friendly and accommodative although my interaction with them has been very limited. Had my mother in law been alive we might have visited them more often but unfortunately that was not to be and with my brothers settling down in Mumbai all I could manage were hurried trips to Mumbai to visit my ailing mother when she was alive or to attend the marriages of my nieces and nephews. It is my regret that my children never got to know a whole set of second cousins who may not speak fluent English or chat ‘online’ but are not only warm hearted and genuine but caring and affectionate as well. Having met them only thrice in 34 years I was touched by the way they made me feel as if I had been meeting them on an annual basis. They wanted to know details about my children and grandchildren and insisted that we bring them over when they next visited India. The contrast between the superficiality of urban life and the simplicity of these village people was evident and believe me when I say that I found myself longing to be part of such a culture.

It is not as if they do not have problems. I was treated to so many family stories – some touching, some hilarious but underlying the sorrow/joy behind the information was a kindred spirit that is conspicuously absent in the hectic modern day schedule where parents can barely manage to take care of the demands of their children. I heard of a grand aunt who assisted a grand nephew who was planning to take up a job after his 10th board exams to do his post graduation and today he is a successful biology teacher with his students scattered all over the world. He is being invited to conduct work shops on how biology may be made interesting to students in different schools in Tamilnadu and his coaching classes are so popular that he is finding it difficult to accommodate all those who approach him. His students have formed associations using his name – no mean achievement for a boy brought up in a village and having had to walk 5 kilometers to school however inclement the weather. Equally impressive is the fact that he has not forgotten his days of struggle and does his bit to help meritorious students so that at least a few students who come in his contact do not have to drop out for want of money.

Another nephew was about four years old when I first saw him. He was a slow learner and never went to school. He makes himself otherwise useful to all his relatives in general and his brother’s family in particular. The entire family dotes on him and he reciprocates in equal measure. With people wanting to have nothing to do even with close relatives unless they find him/her equal in status and standard it filled my eyes with tears to see the concern shown by one and all to this young man.

More than anything else I was touched by their accepting me as one among them rather than an outsider. We stayed with my husband’s aunt who is herself childless and has been staying with her sister’s son for the past 30 years. The four days I spent in Trichy had an energizing effect to my mind and I returned to Jamshedpur with pleasant memories of my stay. I do wish we have more of such people who make one forget the ways of the wily world we live in. I did make a fool of myself trying to make dosais. More about it later.

The thinking blogger!!

I am afraid that I’ve taken an endless amount of time to respond to the Visitor’s tag on the thinking blogger.ITW was also kind enough to mention me in her response to the tag and finally Gauri has again asked me to list 5 bloggers who made me think. I really had no access to the computer while I was vacationing and when I managed to open my blogspot at my sister’s place all I could manage was a passing glance. I was, as I mentioned earlier hopping from a reception to marriage and again to a grihapravesh and Shashtiabdapoorty fitting in somewhere in the midst of a hectic trip. I met so many of our relatives in Trichy after a lapse of 14 years and the affection they showered on us was intoxicating as well as overwhelming. I could not help feeling lousy for not having visited them earlier. I am also glad that I managed a visit this time ‘cos 2 of my husband’s aunts are nearing eighty and wanted to know details about my children whom they had seen in their pre teens. Toddlers would be more appropriate. So, I apologize to all of you who’ve placed so much affection on me for the delay and I continue with the hope that I do justice to the task assigned to me.

I would like to classify the blogs I visit into categories. I got the idea on reading Usha’s response to the tag. Had we been children Usha would have made a face at me and said ‘Copy cat, killed a rat……’ etc and I might have run after her. I dare not run now because a broken limb or a fractured skull may take longer to mend at my age.

My five categories of bloggers who set me thinking are-

1) Golden oldies: We who ought to stay put in a corner seat but insist on sharing (boring??) our thoughts with the world. Yeah! I refer to Mahadevan, hillgmom and Usha. Each of them is an inspiration. Mahadevan for his depiction of characters in R.K. Narayan style, hillgmom whose enthusiasm is so catchy-be it the pictures of orchids or birds that visit her garden or a family get together. I always feel like a family member – loved and included. As for Usha I love her inspirational posts and her choice of subjects. There can only be ONE Usha with the magical effect of livening up every topic that she takes up. I don’t know if I can get away with calling Usha an oldie. I know that a number of you are Usha’s fans, my daughter included and I am prepared for a dressing down from one or all of you.
2) Superwomen: I refer to Artnavy, ITW, just like that, deepti, sunita and all other mommy bloggers who mange a demanding career, find quality time for their children as is evident from their writings and find time to appreciate the works of fellow bloggers.Reading their pieces takes me back to the time when I was a young mother myself. I also try to imagine what my own grand daughters may be doing on reading about these children. Apart from this Deepti gives an account of places of tourist interest in Hyderabad and ITW and artnavy write about shopping centers and eateries in Chennai. Hats off ladies! We could learn a few things from you people.

3) Reviwers: I refer to the Visitor and Balaji. When you have limited time and want to get an instant feed back on the interesting reads that blogs offer you can just hop into their blogspace and you have a fair review and update of the writings of other bloggers. They are indeed doing a great service perhaps even without realizing how important their work is for novices like me.

4) Sensitivity: passerby55, starrynights and Srijith Unni belong to this group. It is a pleasure reading them. They have a way of expressing their thoughts and their expression touches a vital chord in one’s mind. Unfortunately passerby is off on a long leave and Srijith has a busy schedule. So we don’t get to read more of them.

5) Gen X: the kid, vishesh, mnowluck , venky etc belong to this group.I’ve been able to get some insight into the minds of young girls due to my interaction with teenaged girls in the college. But reading the blogs of these boys I think I am able to understand their perspective as well. The kid almost took me to task on my views on feminism and vishesh manages several blogs, each for a different interst.

Apart from those mentioned above there are bloggers like ammani whose quick tales are interesting, archana bahuguna whose poems are as inspirational as her writingsand visitra who spends time with orphans during her free time,monika who balances between two culturally different families ………… the list is long but each one of you has contributed to the ‘thinking process’ in your own way. Whenever I read your blogs I always seem to think -‘That is a new way of looking at the issue’ or ‘I hadn’t thought of it that way’. I have learnt something from each one of you and I have to thank ITW, the Visitor and gouri for tagging me and making me ‘think’ of what I have learnt from you.
I welcome all those mentioned here to take up this tag and identify 5 bloggers who made them think and deserve the thinking blogger award.

MY PRECIOUS STONE

THIS WAS THE FIRST PIECE I WROTE 3 YEARS BACK WHEN I DECIDED TO TRY MY HAND IN WRITING.Okay, it got rejected by the magazine that I sent it to.But it still remains my favorite.Since my readers have learnt to accept me as I am, I've decided to present it as my 100th post to mark the end of a year of 'happy blogging'. Thank you my dear readers for encouraging me.I'd be a big zero were it not for you guys.

Thirty years back every south Indian home had a hand grinder manually operated by the lady of the house to prepare mouth watering delicacies like dosai, Idli and vadai for the family. We were no exception. Ours actually belonged to my great grand mother in law and my husband had developed a special personal attachment to it. He often recalled the manner in which it was transported it to Jamshedpur when he was a child and how the transportation had cost his father double the actual price of the grinder. He spoke fondly of the wonderful service rendered by the grinder-the quality of its stone which did not chip off easily and the quantity of rice it would grind at one go etc. The lady members of his family including myself who had spent hundreds of man-hours grinding several kilograms of rice and dal to feed the family were conveniently forgotten. I finally decided to call it a day and decided to purchase and electrified model of a wet grinder. I felt that my problems would end. Little did I know that they had just begun?

I gave myself a pat on my back when I managed to convince my husband that I was getting on in age and if we did not purchase an electrical grinder his favorite south Indian dishes like dosai and idli would stand cancelled from our breakfast menu. He was perfectly at liberty to order for their home delivery from a local restaurant but I was not going to “hand grind” the batter. He bought the electrical version albeit half-heartedly and spoke at length on the merits of hand grinding whenever he could, right from the physical exercise it provided to the increase in electricity bills on account of the new monster. I slept through these lecture sessions or chose to develop selective hearing impediment as per my convenience. He would make a sour face and I would turn a “blind eye”. I was glad to have my way and he could rave and rant as much as he wanted. Unfortunately that was not easy. “Idli’s don’t taste good” he’d announce, ”could be the quality of rice” I’d retort. “What proportion did you follow?” He was not one to let go.” The same as before.” would be my answer and this would go on and on as if I was a novice and he my coach. After all I could not be deaf, dumb and blind at the same time! So I decided to ’give away’ the old grinder hoping that out of sight would perhaps put it out of mind! I deliberately use the term because neither was I competent enough to sell it nor would my husband hear of fixing a price for this piece of “precious” stone. He looked so upset and appalled at my suggestion that I felt like the witch in fairy tales who troubled good children.

I started looking out for a prospective customer who could offer a home to my superannuated grinder and around the same time I realized that my daughters had reached their marriageable age. I succeeded in getting them married within a year but it looked as if our precious stone would remain my companion for life. I tried convincing everyone including my present and former servants, our launderer, young brides who had budgetary constraints and needy ladies who expressed the remotest desire to become financially self dependent. I offered to pay for its transportation including the charge for “downloading” it from our third floor apartment. I transferred it to the best balcony in the house so that passers by would be tempted to own it. Finally I did manage to find a person to take it after confirming that I would not charge him for it. The more difficult task of convincing my husband that his ancestral property was going into good hands took me a month. The hour long interview that he took of the future owner of the grinder, making sure that he realized its worth, filled me with pangs of guilt and remorse for the next two months. I still expect it to be returned with thanks any day so do not be surprised if I try convincing you of the merits of this archaic piece. I know it by heart from what I’ve heard. Remember I only feigned selective deafness!