Adoption laws??

Adoption of children by a childless couple has been happening since time immemorial. There are contradictory opinions about whether the adopted child should be told about his/her adopted status or not. If yes then when is the right time to divulge the information? The reactions of the human mind are strange and unpredictable and there is no guarantee that the child is going to react positively to the news if and when it is disclosed. They say blood is thicker than water. But is it really so? Don’t the years of nurture put in by the adopted parents count? I have the example of a few cases that make me conclude that the adopted parents are lucky if their wards take the news well but it would be better to be prepared for the worst.

I do not know their names so I have decided to give them names of my choice. On second thoughts I feel that naming them is not that important. This could happen to any of us whether our child is adopted or not.

I met the mother and daughter some 12 years back when I went to a friend’s place on invitation during Navaratri. They were visitor's at my friend's place having come there on a short vacation from New Delhi. The child was about 5 years old and unless otherwise mentioned one would not realize that she was adopted. Unfortunately the father had died soon after the child’s first birthday but the child was a source of joy and the mother worked hard as an assistant in a reputed institution in Delhi to give her the very best in life. I am a regular invitee to their house during Navaratri and I’d make it a point to enquire after the child’s progress when ever I visited. But the report I got this year was alarming. The girl was now a school drop out and is probably into bad company. She remains out with friends for days together makes atrocious demands for cash sometimes at gun point. She regularly steals money from her mother’s purse has removed the adoption papers from the locker of her mother’s almirah. The slightest rebuke makes her violent and she challenges her mother to ‘throw her back into the gutter’ from which she picked her. She claims to be working in a call center thereby justifying her absence at night. Her mother is now emotionally dependent on her and the girl is well aware of the fact. My conclusion is that the girl is into drugs and since she is the nominee to all her mother’s assets there may be others involved in encouraging her to threaten her mother and terrorize her to submitting to her unfair demands. In these days of HIV/AIDS spreading like wildfire I wonder if the mother is equipped to deal with the girl as well as those behind her. Any way that is beside the point.

The mother feels guilty about not having disclosed her adopted status at the appropriate time and feels that the shock of having found it out by herself perhaps led her to revolt. She tries to convince herself that drug abuse is not involved. I did not have the opportunity to meet the mother and I report the story from what I learnt through her sister who is in Jamshedpur. I personally feel that this could have happened even if the daughter was her own and not adopted. But then this is one of those issues that have no answer or solution. Blinded by her affection for the adopted daughter the mother refuses to take her for counseling or to find out what her problem happens to be and whether she is indeed working for a BPO. After all who’d hire a school drop out who has failed her 9th standard? Her main fear is that of losing the daughter for ever. And the sixteen year old is well aware of this. In this case the girl accidentally found out about her being an adopted child. I don’t have detailed information about adoption laws but there appears to be a condition making it necessary for parents to inform the child of his/her status at an appropriate time.

The world and its whimsical ways are strange. If the child turns out to be normal no credit is given to the parents whether adopted or natural. The moment things go wrong every one starts giving their expert opinion. Those that sympathize with the child accuse parents of over indulgence or indifference and if they are on the parent’s side they blame the child’s lineage laying the blame on bad blood. Neither of this really helps. Any child can fall into bad company and adolescent crisis is not unique to a particular group. Drug peddlers are on the look out for victims and a child who is confused is an easy prey. As parents one need to recognize signs and deal with it accordingly. Blaming one’s fate is not going to help nor would be helpful to indulge in self pity. No one wants a child to go astray but should the worst happen let it be faced and rectified before it is too late even if it is at the risk of losing the child's affection. Children are sharp and will understand your good intention pretty soon. One needs to remain patient. And in case the misunderstanding persists but the child's behavior is corrected, one can atlest watch his/her growth from a distance and it would be better than witnessing their downfall and not being able to do anything about it. It is the responsibility of the parent to deal with the situation in an appropriate manner and for adopted parents it is like walking on tight rope.

Tag of weirdness

Seven weird things about me-

Preethi has tagged me to reveal 7 weird things about me and to further tag seven people to continue the tag. Having done a similar tag earlier, let me try. Though I have to think of a new list of weird attributes to do justice to the tag.

I have the tendency to think of something funny and giggle or smile. I mostly do it in the privacy of my home but sometimes I giggle to myself while traveling in a bus or in a boring situation. I quickly check if others have noticed it and regain my composure.

I normally see people dress up for the evening and look tidy and trim when I drop in. Evenings are my time to relax and I wear soft and soothing clothes and dress up only if I have to go out. This may be due to the fact that I’ve spent the entire day in a starched sari duly pinned up and am happy wearing dangly stuff that pass off for clothes at home.

I forget where I’ve kept my stuff and tend to look for them in the wrong cupboard though I seem to easily locate my husband’s misplaced belongings. Things have improved a bit these days with pass books in one folder and certificates and things in another. When my husband was working he was worse than me but since retirement he does a good job of organizing things. The only problem is that his lectures are non stop.

I used to sob my heart out while watching melodramatic masala movies till about 10 years back. These days I laugh at the very same situations. I cannot explain the change of heart. May be the actors overacted or I over reacted. Whatever the reason, my children would stop watching the movie and check out if I had started shedding tears. I remember my friends in college hushing me up.

In really tensed up situations I tend to say something out of context. Like when my daughter needed to get admitted for her delivery I asked her if I should grind the soaked dal for vada. I am sure my son in law must have thought that I was crazy. I can’t help it. I get muddled and unable to think straight, I tend to say or do something silly.

I cannot bear parting. I’ve cried for each of my teachers who left school to get married. On one occasion a co - passenger asked me if I was related to my Geography teacher noticing the way I cried when we went to the station to see her off. I’d cry when I left home for the hostel and cry again when I left the hostel to return home. When my younger brother got married I cried along with his wife and my daughter almost disowned me for it. But strangely the tears seem to have dried up these days and I make do with quivering lips and a crooked mouth.

I love reading portions of an impressive book over and over again. I sometimes re-issue library books for the purpose. When I am out of sorts I take up a really funny book and read the funny parts to overcome my bad mood.

Now the difficult part of tagging seven others- I think I’ll ask Sunita, serendipity, dotm, rajk, tys on ice, prats and nz to take up the tag if they wish to.

Gup shap.

I feel that there is some basic difference between men and women. Whether it is in their genes or cultural tuning I wouldn’t know but I do feel that men-or at least those that belong to my generation suffer from a blindness that has no name. We’ve heard of color blindness and night blindness. But how do you classify when men look at things without actually seeing them. My husband for instance needs me in the house all the time. It used to be-
“Where is the gas lighter?” at five o’clock in the morning. This question would annoy me. I certainly don’t hide it under my pillow. Earlier I’d get up and give it to him and come back to get on with my dreams. These days I close my eyes tight and continue to dream. He must have learnt to locate it or perhaps uses matchsticks but he has stopped asking me. The next question would be
“Where is the milk?”
Why they don't try to locate even medium or large sized objects is something I don’t understand. Even while I write this post my husband is asking for the TV remote. He is the actual ‘controller’ of the remote and it is invariably found on the sofa. I don’t even touch it with my little finger but the question is always popped at me. As if I go about hiding everything. I personally feel that they shoot the question even before looking for a particular item. A gent’s towel is not the size of a lady’s handkerchief to be folded and kept in my purse nor do spanners and screw drivers attract me. But it is always ‘where is this or that.’

One evening when I came back from work every edible item had been left open. The cooker with cooked rice in it, dal, and sabzi lay open on the kitchen slab. Curd and pickle on the dining table. Lids of all sizes lay strewn all over the place and this was at least two hours after he had his afternoon meal.

I woke him up from his afternoon nap and demanded to know why he hadn’t bothered to keep the curd and dal in the fridge and why each and every item had been left open. He had no answer except that he was watching an interesting match on TV and forgot about it. He did not even see the curd and pickle lying open.

“Oh! Stop it will you?” was his retort. “It doesn’t take place everyday!” Thank God it doesn’t. It would cause my blood pressure to soar. Honestly I don’t see a woman doing this however interesting a program on TV may be.

The second problem area is the selective deafness he seems to suffer from.

“The dal is in the fridge.” I’d tell him. “Heat it up in the microwave just before lunch.”

I’d come back and see that he has not taken out the dal at all. He had mixed rice with sabzi and eaten it up.

“But the dal was in the fridge” I’d protest.

"Oh was it? I did not know”

“I told you and you nodded your head as if you understood.”

“Did I? I don’t remember you telling me anything.”

The truth was that engrossed in his paper he had not heard a word of what I said nor seen me leave the house.

“Appa was better than you.” I’d say referring to my father in law.

And it was true. My father in law managed a lot for me. After I left at 7 in the morning and the children and husband followed me, he’d go around the house not only putting out lights and checking on the gas regulator but he’d keep track of dhobi account, servant’s salary and newspaper bill. He’d take care of the children’s home work and tell them bed time stories.

“Last month we did not get the news paper on the 3rd since 2nd October was a holiday” he’d announce. Or “The dhobi has lost a towel. I’ve asked him to look for it. I am not paying him unless he gets it.”

It was such a relief to have an elderly person attending to minor details of house keeping. My husband may ultimately do the same for the children but right now all he does is to irritate me.

Having said this I remembered a piece of advise my mother in law gave me long ago.

I was upset at something that my husband said and was about to retaliate when she shut me up much to my irritation.

“Wait till you reach my age” she said. “You can get then away with saying anything you want and he won’t even bother to listen to what you say. The bonding will be such he will not mind it even if he heard you. But not now my child. You need to grow old together before the privilege is yours.”

I now realize that she was speaking from experience and I tease my husband saying that I have his mother’s permission to boss over him once he retires!

Deepavali is the festival of lights and is celebrated all over India with a great deal of enthusiasm. In fact it is a week long celebration starting from Dhantheras to Bhai Dooj with an extra day on either side. The Bengali community worships the Goddess Kali on Diwali day, Marwari and Gujrathis worship the Goddess Lakshmi and the residents of the Gangetic plain celebrate the home coming of Lord Rama from exile. We Tamilians celebrate Lord Krishna’s victory over Narakasura. Stories abound with each community finding its own reason to celebrate the day. To my mind, the festival is indicative of the ultimate victory of justice and righteousness, whatever the obstacle. It is also a way of reminding oneself that we need to dispel the dark side of our society and replace it with light. So let us all celebrate Diwali by-

Remembering that there are several needy people out in the open without a shelter over their heads. We may not be able to build them homes but let us not shatter their hope of a better tomorrow.We seem to have a lot of things but no time to relax and enjoy the fruit of our labor. Let us take time out to spend time with our near and dear ones.

Let us surprise a long lost friend by either visiting him or with at least a phone call. I know that I need to visit one such person whom I remember quite often but never find time to meet. How would she know that she is very much in my thoughts? Social visits are almost non existent but isn’t Deepavali an appropriate time to say ‘I care for you’?

Finally let us remember that we may be among the fortunate few but the wheels of fortune keep turning and in our short span of purposeful life let us make ourselves useful to society so that the world remembers us, not by the amount of wealth we’ve amassed but by the good will we’ve managed to earn. We need not go about conquering an external enemy let us begin with a self introspection and decide how best one may light up the lives of others in whatever small and insignificant manner. After all don’t little drops of water make a mighty ocean?

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.