Fighting Corruption

A lot is being said about the anti corruption drive and I feel glad that the lay man has stood up against the corruption that prevails in society. The huge crowd that gathers in support of Anna Hazare is proof that the common man is sick and tired of greasing palms to get the simplest work done in Government offices. I feel bad that I also am part of the problem simply because I am not part of the solution. I did not offer ‘chai pani ka paisa’ to the dealing clerk while submitting my thesis. The process was deliberately delayed and the examiner’s report suppressed. Finally I manage to acquire my doctoral degree 18 months after I submitted my report. I had nothing to lose since I had a job and at that point in my career I could not have got an automatic promotion. I attended three interviews after that but the story was the same. It was whispered that there was a price attached and the moment I landed in Patna negotiators would seek me out. No one did. So I really haven’t directly dealt with mediators who strike shady deals on behalf of the powers that be. It is all hearsay which may or may not be true. Again it was a consolation that I had a job that promised a pension on retirement and I was in a better position than many others equally qualified and competent.

Is it the same with others?

Kala is the Head Mistress of a middle school that is semi government. Funds are released after several rounds of meetings and around 30 teachers working under her wait for months to get their salaries. And when the salary amount is sanctioned the dealing clerk delays the transfer of funds till she pays him an amount agreed upon as ‘chai pani ka paisa’. This depends on the amount each teacher stands to ‘benefit’. There is no guarantee as to when the next salary would be sanctioned. I wonder what ought to be done under the circumstances. Some teachers are sole bread winners with several dependents. Kala knows that as a teacher she should fight against corruption. Complaining will not help since the clerk is perhaps the agent and there are many others who benefit by his collection. I wonder if Anna Hazare’s drive against corruption will actually reach out to such people who are victims of a corrupt system.

I have no sympathy for those among us who grease palms for obtaining favors out of turn. Driving license given out without the person taking the test for instance. A friend’s husband lost his life on account of rash driving by a teenager who in all probability was under age. But who cares? We want the easy way out. One goes to a government hospital and the treatment he/she gets is definitely better if hospital staff are bribed. The list is long and this is only the beginning.

I don’t mean to say that we should lose hope. I feel that we ought to take steps to counsel government employees and impress upon them that it is a shame to expect ‘oopari kamayi’ (bribe) as a right. The chain/circle is vicious and inter-connected and links politicians, bureaucrats as well as their sub ordinates. I end with two examples of upright IPS officers that makes me think that it is wrong to paint everyone with the same brush.

One involved the SP of our township some three years back. He had given his phone number to the women’s organization that supported a complainant of domestic abuse and asked them to feel free to contact him at any time of the day/night in case of trouble. They rang him up at 2 in the night and within minutes the station in charge of the police station nearest to the girl’s house sent a constable to arrest her husband.

The second involved the DIG of our township. We had an interactive session with him at a local college. He asked the audience to co – operate with him in punishing erring traffic police/constables and the like by lodging an instant complaint. A constable posted at the National Highway leading to our town was seen accepting bribe to allow the entry of heavy vehicle during the time declared as ‘No entry’ time keeping the safety of school children returning home in auto – rickshaws/ private vehicles in mind. Someone clicked a photograph of the constable and forwarded it to the DIG. The man was immediately suspended. This has served as a warning to other constables too.

These are the steps that responsible citizens can take to be part of the solution. I add that I myself spoke to the aforementioned DIG at six in the morning on behalf of my servant who said that the station in charge of our area would not accept a complaint that she wished to lodge. I wanted to check for myself if he would take calls that early in the morning. And he did. He asked her to go to the police station that very day and that he would direct the station in charge to take appropriate action.

If we wish to take Annaji’s movement forward we too need to do our bit.

Following Up

I had written sometime back on a few cases of schizophrenia in two parts and had commended the care givers on their role in taking care of these people. I had heard of these cases from people close to them and was full of admiration for the decisions made by them. I’ve been following their case from time to time and updated myself on the course their lives have taken since then. I refer in particular to the case of Preeti and Montu.

I had mentioned that Preeti surprised everyone by deciding to give her marriage a try although she was under no compulsion to do so. Her parents in law were so grateful to her that they pampered her to the core and provided her with the necessary support in running the house and attending to her whimsical husband. Now that the couple opted to have a child one would expect her to bond well with the husband and their marriage would be near normal. With many of our marriages having their own ups and downs, even without having to deal with a mentally imbalanced spouse, one ought not to imagine that life was very easy for the girl who was totally unprepared to deal with the situation. However, to be fair to her, she did try her best. I don’t mean to say that she has failed in her effort or has given up. Her problem was different.

Preeti had a baby boy some three years after her marriage. She loved her son alright but had a nagging doubt as to whether her husband’s condition was genetic and if he would inherit the condition from his father. Schizophrenia does not necessarily show up till adolescence or even much later and she had no means of knowing about the possibility of her son ‘turning mad’ as those around her cruelly described her husband. She looked for indications where there were none and even the slightest tantrum shown by the child was attributed to faulty genes. It was very distressing for her parents in law to cope with the mindless insinuations heaped by her on an innocent toddler but could do little about it. Things came to a head when she refused to return after a visit to her parent’s place saying that she did not want the child to pick up ‘mad ways’ from his father. Her parents did not feel free to advise her since they partly blamed themselves for the mess that she made of her marriage. Her husband went for a patch up but he was manhandled by her brothers and uncles. They conveniently forgot that he had to take medicines for life or that his condition had to be managed only with the help of medicines unlike a physical affliction that could be completely cured after a period of treatment. He could not muster courage to go again. The rift widened and it appeared that they would never patch up. However, counseling came from unexpected quarters.

Her paternal grandmother was the one who intervened and set things right. She was sympathetic towards her granddaughter but also questioned her decision to opt for a biological child. Did she not know that he had a 50:50 chance if inheriting his father’s trait? No one was perfect she claimed. The boy could derive some shortcomings - both physical and mental - from her as well. Did she expect her brothers to take care of her once her parents were dead and gone? She could opt for separation but not until she found a means to support herself and her son.

“Stop pouting and sulking.” Were her final words. “You made a choice earlier and were glad to be hailed as a sacrificing wife. You were amply counseled by his doctor and were advised on what could be expected of him. Please don’t think that I am not supporting you. You must admit that you are also partly responsible for the situation. Be brave and face the situation. What if it were your brother instead of your husband? Would you love him less on account of his mental condition? ”.

Somehow, her grandmother’s words made sense and Preeti returned to her husband. She went for counseling sessions and felt better after that. She got enrolled in computer classes and is able to divert her mind from negative thoughts and doubts that earlier haunted her. Her parents in law refrain from ever referring to her prolonged stay at her parent’s place or her tantrums when Montu went to fetch her. It is just as if she has returned from a well deserved break which was perhaps just what it was.

Advising caution.........

This week brought in news of a family friend’s unexpected demise and the tragic instance of child sex abuse yet again. Both events disturbed me a lot.

Death is the most natural event to occur in our lives and yet we are never ready to face it. I have mentioned the Sinhas in a number of my posts but two alone stand out in my memory - Canine instincts written when I had just started blogging and a Deepavali post written soon after. Both the pieces were the products of my first year as blogger. We have known the family for nearly 35 years. Our children practically grew up in their house. My son was like a toy in the hands of their sons. They would rush to see him after school and would carry him away to their house from the time he was a month old. Whenever the boys were given new clothes for Durga puja or other special occasions the boys would definitely come over to my place to show me their new dress. How I wish God had been merciful to them. The older of their two sons passed away of renal failure at the age of 31 and their mother never quite recovered from the shock. She lived on without the urge to live and followed the son 8 years later. However, their second son married a very adjusting and accommodating girl and Mrs. Sinha spent the final years of her life with them doting on the granddaughter who she felt was her dead son gifted back to her. Now, it was the turn of Mr. Sinha to pass on. He died of a massive heart attack and it breaks my heart to see the son alone in this world. He is not the kind of street smart guys one sees all over the town and after his father’s unexpected death he did not even know what to do next. It was Mr. Sinha that managed things.

However, this was not the purpose of this post. One thing that worried me was the fact that the family lived in perpetual denial. They never believed that they could fall ill. Bikhu, as the older one was called, was perhaps a case of juvenile diabetes. Mrs. Sinha was obsessed with cleanliness and yet the flush out pan in their toilet would be full of ants. A doctor friend suggested that all four have their urine samples tested and at the age of 18 the older son’s urine had sugar not in traces but in excess amounts. Kidney failure had set in. The family kept fooling themselves that all was fine. Diet control was never seriously considered and the boy lost his life thirteen years later.

Mrs. Sinha too was perhaps diabetic but she also waited till her kidneys began to fail before opting for treatment. By then she had lost her first born as well as her desire to live. Mr. Sinha had a massive heart attack soon after the son’s death. He was obese and the doctor had recommended weight control and change in life style/food habits. Mrs. Sinha’s notion of treating a heart patient was indeed weird. He needs good food she would insist. Chicken soup was okay but she would give him chicken fry and scold her daughter in law if she objected. You will starve him to death – she’d scream. Every time I enquired after his health Mr. Sinha would say that he was fine. He never went for regular check ups saying that doctors would unnecessarily ask for tests to be done even if there was no need. From a week before his death he had mild chest pain. Given the medical history of a previous attack he ought to have gone for a check up. He passed it off to gas problem and tried home remedies. Unfortunately he did not survive a second attack.

After the age of 50 one has to be prepared for degeneration of the system and take the necessary precaution. Given the history of diabetes in the family I have advised their son to monitor his blood sugar levels. I hope he takes my words seriously. With two little girls and a wife to support he cannot afford to be indifferent the way his parents were.

The other case of child sex abuse took place in our complex and the victim was a little girl of about 8 years in age studying in class III. The abuser was a class mate’s father. As per an arrangement with him, the girl’s father would drop his own daughter and the abuser's son studying in the same class at school and the boy’s father would bring them home. This was a recent arrangement that was initially a temporary one during the exams and was continued since it appeared to suit the two families. The man in question would delay bringing the girl home saying that his milkman arrived around the time and would go away if the house was locked. He’d send his own son away to ride a newly purchased bicycle and with his wife away at work he’d have the house to himself. He initially tried getting familiar with the child and threatened her of dire consequences if she told anyone about it. After a few days he forced her to drink some foul smelling stuff saying it was orange juice (perhaps alcohol) and forced her to have oral sex. He also tried fingering her privates. The child was petrified but just told the mother that she did not want ‘uncle’ to bring her home. That very night she woke up with a start and started screaming incoherently and all that the mother understood was that she wished to be saved from ‘uncle’ for whatever reason. The child’s father had left for Calcutta in the evening and was to be away for the week end. The mother called the watchman and took the child to a doctor in the complex around midnight. The girl was weeping profusely and shaking as if she had convulsions. She would not let the doctor touch her. His wife however coaxed the entire story out of the child and was stunned that such an incidence could have happened. The mother was initially shocked but around 6 the next morning she informed a women’s organization that swung into action and by 10 in the morning the abuser was behind bars. The DSP took special interest and assured the family of immediate action. The mother supposedly slippered the man right in front of the station in charge of the police station. The father came back immediately and when I met him in the evening he said that he must have received at least a hundred calls asking him to withdraw the case. I now hear that he has indeed withdrawn the case though I do not know for sure. Even if he has(there could have been some compulsion that we do not know of) I appreciate the quick action taken by the women’s organization and police.

The two are unrelated incidents but had to be shared. The world needs to know that it could be one among us who’d be the next victim and caution - whether in the case of health or in the trust one places on a neighbor- will not hurt.

Dealing with good people.

Dealing with good people can be frustrating. At least that is what my experience tells me. You yell at the son and daughter and they yell back at you. Scores settled and peace prevails. But gently rebuke them or better still don’t say anything at all. Pick up the wet towel and put it to wash. Smile at them and say “Anything else to be washed son”? It simply unnerves them and there won’t be a wet towel to pick up next time.

Priya was told that she was lucky to have Mrs. Kapoor for mother in law. Mrs. Kapoor was mild mannered and soft spoken. She would never interfere in her life. And she didn’t. But having no complaint against her mother in law was Priya’s only complaint. It was very difficult to get past her mother in law. There was a talk of hiring a cook when Priya’s husband Nitesh was hospitalized. Her mother in law pitched in.

“Why hire a cook my child. I have nothing to do. I’ll take care of the kitchen. You can attend to Nitesh.”

Priya would return from hospital at 8 in the evening. The evening meal would not be ready.

Her mom in law would smile sweetly and say –

“I was just about to start. However, I could not decide whether to prepare bitter gourd or pumpkin. Which do the children prefer? And would it be okay to prepare rotis before hand? I thought the children would want to have fresh rotis.”

“Anything would do mummy”. Priya would reply. “I have some packaged, pre-cooked vegetables. If you’ve kneaded the flour I’ll prepare rotis immediately. The children should be hungry and will be asking for food anytime now”.

“Oh my God, I just forgot. Why don’t you freshen up? I’ll knead the flour. By the way how many cups of wheat flour do we take?”

“Never mind mummy. I’ll toast some bread for them. I’ll check for left over food in the fridge. Or else I’ll make some upma for the two of us.”

And as an aside she would add ‘Please get right out of my kitchen. I may just eat you up for dinner’.

It was a frustrating situation. To top it the MIL would appear so very considerate when neighbors and relatives dropped in.

“Poor child, she has to do the running around since I cannot manage outside work. So I’ve asked her not to worry about home and children. After all what am I here for”?

Bhavana too had been blessed with a good mother in law. She was however not as indecisive as Priya’s mom in law. She was smart and very much in control. Bhavana wanted to take up a job. The children had grown up and she had some spare time. She wanted to take up a part time job.

She over heard her mother in law telling her husband-

“Bhavana wants to take up a job. And why not? She is qualified and capable. I’ve offered to manage the house. My arthritis causes problem but I’ll manage somehow. I’ll finish work and give myself a massage once I am done. Appa can fetch the children from the bus stop. It will be very hot when they come back. He’ll have to carry an umbrella. It will be a little difficult for him to manage the children with an umbrella in one hand. He’ll manage somehow. Hire a servant to fetch them? Servants are so unreliable. You pay them a huge amount and end up doing all the work yourself. Never mind son, don’t worry. We’ll manage somehow”.

Bhavana was at wit’s end not knowing how she was supposed to deal with such a sacrificing mother in law. It would have been easier to deal with one who refused to help out.

Pranati’s mother in law was in hospital. She would visit her every evening with a flask of coffee and some snacks. For the rest of the day she had hired a private attendant and was paying her an amount that was quite beyond her means. In order to save money she would take a bus to the hospital and would invariably be late. She would wait for the milkman at a neighbor’s place since he came there earlier, prepare coffee at their place, leave her two year old daughter with them and rush to board the bus. On one occasion she saw her cousin and his wife going towards the hospital in a two wheeler while she was herself in the bus. Had she spotted them before boarding the bus she’d have asked them to take her mother in law’s coffee along. When she reached the hospital ward her mother in law was very cross with her for being late. It so happened that her cousin’s wife had innocently remarked that had she known that Pranati would be late she would have brought the ailing woman some coffee herself. Well meant words but they triggered off unnecessary resentment between the mother in law/daughter in law duo. Under the circumstances it would have been better to keep one’s opinion guarded. Getting coffee on an odd day was not the same as doing it on a daily basis. And there could be umpteen reasons for the delay.

In my opinion good will alone is not sufficient. It has to be peppered with smart thinking. As the saying goes ‘an intelligent enemy is easier to deal with than a foolish friend’. Think about it.

The writer in me.

I was wondering what to write and Dr. Antony gives me an idea through his latest post. Thanks doc. I think I want to take off where you left. Why do I write?? This is a question that often comes to my mind. Am I a good writer? May be not a good one but an okay kind perhaps? But I keep writing not so much for others but for myself. You see, I am a talkative person and I seem to want to say so much. My girls are busy with their children and the son keeps asking me to come to the point and I take a long time getting to it. They just won’t listen. My husband and I talk different languages. Not literally of course. He loves discussing politics and treats me to a generous dose of it each day. I don’t have to listen to the same news in 10 news channels to understand that politicians are what they are. I watch programs on discussions about the education system instead and try to figure out the reason why not a single student has taken up Botany honors this year. I mean I am granted an extension of two years and my subject has no takers? Husband couldn’t care less for the next generation’s lack of interest in my subject. He firmly believes that all the scamsters are really going to be exposed and the money launderers are definitely going to be punished. In fact each day of his retired life is spent on betting that this or that person is soon to be declared a political outcaste. I am yet to see it happening. So after 38 years of togetherness we talk of issues that have no relevance to the other person.

Now you get my point. I write because I want to share my anguish and joy with people who I cannot see.

I was just joking.

Let me then analyze how I stand to benefit by writing.

I feel important: The name hip grandma has been coined by my daughter. It gives the impression of a wise old woman ready with tips on making life a bed of roses. To tell you the truth I haven’t found answers to my own questions on life and living. But it does not harm one to feel wanted and important does it?

I can postpone housework: There are days when I feel inclined to defer work. The blog offers me the perfect alibi for being absent from where I ought to be. The creative me does not dwell on trivialities like folding clothes and stacking dishes. So I can safely forgive myself for removing laundry from the washing machine a full hour after it has been washed. No mother in law to question me, a doting husband who would never disturb me when I am typing something (he actually enjoys his moments of peace but I like to believe that he is proud of my writing skills) and no children/grandchildren to attend to. So I scold myself for procrastinating and excuse myself for doing it.

I can afford to change the order of things: Like I can comb my hair at nine in the evening. I hear writers are allowed quirky habits. It was Dr. Antony who said it, not me, but I feel relieved at the thought. I haven’t actually washed and combed at the specified time. But should someone point out to queer mannerisms and quirky habits I can ignore their observations. I can mutter to myself-‘ What do they know about writers? Eh? Can’t write a full sentence and see how they talk………’

I can imagine things: Why not? As a writer I am free to imagine that I was a blood relative of the legendary R. K. Narayan in an earlier birth. Or that I have actually written a book that goes on to become a best seller. Ram Gopal Verma offers to buy my story and I give it to him for free. Please don’t imagine that I don’t need money. It is just that excess of it baffles me and RGV will not demean himself by offering a paltry sum would he? We Botanists declare anything beyond 10 as infinity while describing a flower. So, in case he offers me an amount with more than 3 zeros following it I would get confused. May as well be magnanimous. What do you say?

To top it: I can sleep in till seven in the morning when it suits me. My husband starts waking me up from around five in the morning. I can mumble something like ‘I was working on my post till late last night. Please let me sleep a little more’. He cannot verify the actual time because he is asleep long before me. Ha, ha!

De - Cluttering..........

I really want to de-clutter my house and put it in order. For that I need your help. Please give me some idea as to how I may deal with hip grandpa as some of you fondly call my husband. He is a hoarder with a capital H and to throw things off I need to get him to turn a blind eye to my cleaning spree. The cleaning bug rarely strikes me but when it does, the sting is strong enough to depress me for days on end.

The first thing I would like to give away is a 45 year old Sumeet Mixer. It doesn’t even belong to me. Mine is just 30 years old but needs to be thrown out all the same. The story of how I managed to acquire a 45 year old mixer - as if I did not have enough to deal with – needs to be told for you to understand my predicament.

The archaic piece actually belongs to my friend who had repaired it at least 10 times before getting herself a new one. We had gone to her place for lunch. I saw a shiny new mixer in her kitchen and asked her if the brand was good since I wanted to buy one for myself. I would give away my old one I said. My husband who was reading the newspaper was shocked that I should even think of it.

“Do you know that Sumeet mixers are the best? The motor is so sturdy that it will last for 30 more years.”

My friend took my side and said that the company did not manufacture mixers any more and it was difficult to get blades and other spare parts. Spurious blades made by local units were not good enough. She went on to say that her own Sumeet mixie was lying idle since it was beyond repair.

“Give it to me.” My husband said. “I’ll get it repaired. I know a person who does a good job of it.”

“I’ve got a new one.” My friend said. “Please don’t bother”.

There are times when my husband becomes deaf and blind at the same time. He just did not want to listen to my friend’s protests and insisted on getting it repaired.

“He won’t charge much” he went on to explain. “He is very reasonable.”

My friend insisted that she was not interested in getting it repaired and my husband insisted that his electrician would repair it for a reasonable cost and she finally bundled the mixer in a bag and gave it to him saying that she did not want it back. He could give it to a needy person if it could be put to use.

I tried glaring and staring at him. He could not read the message conveyed by my eyes and I wanted to get his eyes tested. I was left with no option but to cart the mixer to my already cluttered house. It is another story that my husband spent some 200 rupees to fix it but it does not work. The motor is in good condition but the alignment with the jar is faulty. As a result when the jar is attached the blade does not budge. He is as possessive of the mixer as if it belonged to my mother in law. These are times when I truly miss her presence. She would have thrown the thing away and drilled some sense into her son’s head. I tried giving it in exchange for a new mixer. The shop was offering a 20% discount on the price of a new mixer of my choice.

“It is not ours” bellowed my husband.

“S will not mind” I wailed.

The net result is that although I have now purchased a new mixer I have two old ones adorning my store room. When a mixer that is not working, that does not belong to us and has been abandoned by its owner cannot be given away you can imagine how possessive he would be of all the ‘hard earned’ purchases made by him. The new mixer is to be used sparingly he insists. The old one is sturdier he claims. I’ve given up.

This is just about one thing that I want to give (read- throw) away and there are plenty of other stuff that need to be treated the same way. My mother in law’s cot for instance. Its ply board needs to be changed. It is standing erect in the spare bedroom. I want it to be repaired and put to use or given away. At least 50% of the stuff we have could be given away but the very mention is enough to start a quarrel. To be fair my husband is equally possessive of things given by my mother. The trunk that my mother gave at the time of my wedding, the wooden chest with my father’s name written on it -- well the list is long. Ideas anyone?

Unhappily married??

We hear a lot more of men and women opting out of marriage these days than when we were growing up or during the time when I was a young mother trying hard to adjust in an alien set up. Hill grandmom has raised a valid point about friends with benefit in her post and I too would like to know what the current generation of young and eligible brides and grooms think of the situation. R's mom too feels that there is nothing negative about being divorced. Society is changing and I can see it happening. Divorces are no longer considered indicative of a person's inability to make the marriage work. Divorces are being considered an amicable alternative to end a relationship that for some reason failed to grow and develop. I know of a divorced couple who still care for each other like any friend would. They have both remarried and there is no bitterness in them for losing out on a relationship that never was. They did not have children but even if children were involved I am sure they would have handled the situation equally well and seen to it that their children remained unaffected. I have written a short piece here about the change perceived in society with regards to divorce. In my opinion this is a welcome change. Women's web has an interesting post on life after divorce by Kalpana Misra. I think it is time we started thinking of ways to deal with the situation instead of preaching from a pedastal on the merits of being 'unhappily married'.

Suranga, R's mom why have you blocked me out? Your site does not allow me to comment. Too bad!

Looking Back

Our children huddled together in a room that doubled up as a bedroom by night and study by day,

We laughed a lot, fought a lot, slept on a mat and sat on the floor remaining cheerful all the time.

We had our meals together, enjoyed light music, shared housework and struggled to make ends meet.

We longed for little pleasures but were still happy with what we had,

And we thought that our life was the best since we knew none other.

We now have everything that wealth can buy – a room of our own, a car to roam around, enough to eat but no appetite for food,

Our children have flown the nest and we long for the time when life was a struggle but was worth the trouble,

When every little success made us achievers and every set back strengthened our bond.

Strange that we have what we longed for but we now long for what we had!

Our life then was best and now that we’ve seen both we know better!

Culturally sound.

During my recent visit to Chennai a remark made by an acquaintance set me thinking. She felt that my long stay in North India had alienated me from my Tamil culture and I had acquired a mixed (read muddled) view of Indian culture as practiced in the south. I wondered what she meant. I did not try to defend myself for the simple reason that I could not understand what she meant. Correct me if I am wrong but it is my opinion that there is no such thing as Tamil or south Indian culture. Having lived in a multi-lingual/cultural township for the past 38 years I find that human beings are pretty much the same – never mind their linguistic/cultural background. I get put off when people assign certain behavioral patterns to a particular community. There is nothing typical to a community. We see good and bad people everywhere. Again good and bad as I have pointed out in earlier posts are relative to circumstance. A person who controls his/her emotions and allows the world to see the pleasant side of one’s nature is called good. But like ‘the man in black’ there are several others with a golden heart but a short temper. They need to be understood –that’s all. Then we are all ambitious. It is just the level that varies. Were it not so society would never progress. There are those that trample upon others to reach their goal and others who take slow and steady steps to get there. Ambition is not restricted to just one or the other community. So when there is so much in common to all human beings why do people talk of their own community as being culturally rich and more superior to other communities?

I tried doing a little introspection and making a list of how and where I differed from my south Indian roots. If one calls insisting on a dress code for my children as being culturally sound I may not fit into the Tamilian mould. However, the dress code keeps changing. Ever since my arthritic leg started giving me trouble I started wearing salwar/ kameez for my morning walk to avoid tripping on the road. I find it so comfortable that I have started wearing it at home and while traveling. Does it make me less Tamilian in any way? I should think not. In pretty much the same way I think that my daughters too ought to be allowed to choose to wear a dress that is comfortable and culture/tradition has nothing to do with it.

I agree that the Tambrahms would be shocked to know that I finish cooking and have a bath later unless it is a day of religious significance. It is easier that way because I do not find time to bathe twice in the morning. I need to bathe before leaving for college so the ritual of bathing before cooking the morning meal had to be shelved. I can almost hear my relatives ask how I could do that. Is it not our custom to offer food to God before consuming it? Food prepared without bathing cannot be given to crows let alone Gods………

Shocking?? Well, when I take out rice for cooking I set aside a handful of uncooked rice in a container and when a decent amount is collected I give it away to a needy person. I feel that this is an equally good alternative and feel no pangs of guilt for not being able to offer food to God on a daily basis. I do not think that this has anything to do with culture. Or does it??

A good number of my relatives accuse me of not talking to my children in my mother tongue. To be frank I mix English and Hindi and throw in a few words of Tamil in my verbal communication with them. They do the same. It is a language unique to us. I spek to my husband in Tamil but we do mix a little Hindi here and there. There are times when I grope for Tamil words. Like the word Maali in Hindi means gardner. The Tamil word is thottakkaran. Laundrer is dhobi in Hindi and vannan in Tamil. I rarely use the Tamil equivalent of the words and unknowingly insert the Hindi term in my conversation. I wonder if it makes me a cultural misfit in my own community? Is it not sufficient that I try to be a well adjusted individual in society to be called culturally sound?

A final word. The Wikipedia defines culture as “An integrated pattern of human knowledge, belief, and behavior that depends upon the capacity for symbolic thought and social learning”. In my opinion the basic human requirement is peaceful co-existence. If this is achieved through social learning a person can be called cultured and this is certainly not the monopoly of any community or country.

Having thus defended myself, I think I can safely go to bed.

Joint families - a few case studies.

I read with interest R’s mom’s post on joint families. The concept of joint families is dying a natural death. I would not know if it is good or bad but I see it happening. Like fashions that follow a cycle may be a few years from now the joint family concept may spring back in a different form. I may or may not live to see it but I can somehow sense it bouncing right back. Having said that I am not starting a new debate on whether the joint family of yesteryears was better or not. I am giving a few references and leaving it to my readers to arrive at an inference based on them.

Padmini (name changed) was not a newcomer in the Bhushan family. She had married the eldest son and was a great hit as a daughter in law. Her visits were eagerly anticipated and a whole lot of cousins in the joint family simply adored her. She was able to please grandmothers and grandfathers by abiding by rules laid down by them and would play ludo with school going youngsters, discuss romantic movies with the teen aged cousins and tease eligible brothers/sisters in law about their marriage prospects. She would fit into every group and her mother in law was proud of her. All went well till the grandparents were alive and uncles lived in the same house. Her parents in law were never free to visit her and all she had to do was to adjust for month in a whole year. However, after her grandparents in law’s death the family split and her own parents in law planned to move in with her since the ancestral house had been sold. Adjusting with them was not easy and differences cropped up. Both sides felt that the other was not adjusting well enough.

Rekha was given to understand that her husband being an only son would continue to live with them and she was the one who would have to adjust and she did. However, with time she began to resent their interference even those that were well meant. She hated to be pushed around as if she were a schoolgirl and urged her husband to accept a foreign assignment just to be allowed some freedom – so what if she had to wait for ten long years to obtain it. Parents tried everything in their means to stop them from going giving very valid reasons like children’s education and their own health issues. The assignment was for just a year and they relented agreeing to look after their school going grandchildren. When Rekha returned she was no longer the same person. She had tasted freedom and was not going to give it up at any cost.

Praveen had seen his parents caring for his grandparents. He told his girl friend that if and when they got married his parents would move in with them. His girl friend had seen her parents being pushed around by her dominating grandparents and thought otherwise. Parents could stay nearby but not with them she said. They broke up on the issue. Neither was wrong but they weren’t right either. Their view was heavily influenced by their personal experiences. However my own opinion is slightly tilted in the girl’s favor. There was nothing wrong in sharing an amicable relationship from a close enough distance and being there for each other when required.

Tricky situations isn’t it? In the present scenario it seems advisable for parents to live at a distance that allows regular interaction and for both groups to be available for each other when required without giving up their individual space.

I end with the example of a cousin of mine nearly 75 years old. He has two daughters. The older one stays in Chennai some 15 kilometers from where he stays. She visits them on alternate weekends and goes over to spend the interim weekends with her parents in law. Their second daughter lives in London and her husband is an only son. His mother is a widow. They’ve bought two adjacent flats in a locality that is close to local temples and offers good medical facility. The two sets of parents live in adjacent flats and are there for one another. When my cousin and his wife visit their daughter her mother in law takes care of the house, pays telephone bills receives mails etc. They do the same when she goes visiting. I am yet to see a happier set of parents. The second daughter checks on her sister’s MIL when her own parents are away. This speaks highly of the lady in question. Adjustment is the key. The message is clear. One needs to be happy with an arrangement that suits all concerned rather than settle for one that is suffocating in whatever manner.

The plight of a care giver.

I have often spoken highly of care givers who have taken care of mentally physically handicapped children/husbands etc. Several of my posts deal with the predicament of care givers and harped on the manner they deal with the challenges they face. However, care givers are humans too. It is not easy to be socially cut off from the world and pretend that all is well with them. One such person was Mrs. R S. I was a frequent visitor to their house till about 4 years back. My Husband and R S were colleagues and despite the difference in age their friendship continued after my husband’s retirement. The couple had a mentally retarded son. She would talk to me over the phone and would say that she would feel better after a chat session with me. It has all changed now. I am wary of a visit to their home. Reason?? I cannot pinpoint the cause but I get the feeling that all is not well in their family and Mr. R S perhaps thinks that I am not a good influence on his wife. No one has said it in words but there is something very wrong.

It all began when I invited the family for lunch. It was difficult to bring their son by scooter they said and I offered to pick them up and drop them back. I assured them that I had no problem if the son came along. I felt that Mrs. R S hardly went anywhere and this was perhaps the least she deserved. However, knowingly or unknowingly I had perhaps hurt Mr. R S by insisting that they all come over as a family. They had a college going daughter who offered to stay back and look after her brother.

“Mummy needs a change. So let her accompany papa. I'll stay back.” She had insisted.

I failed to take the hint and they came for lunch on a Sunday afternoon. I picked them up, dropped them back and on my way back told Mrs. R S that we could plan more such outings. She needed to go out once in a while.

After this incidence Mr. R S cut himself off from us in a very subtle and polished manner. He shifted residence but did not give us the new address. We came to know of it through a common friend. His wife did not know of the change in her husband’s attitude and rang me up asking me why I hadn’t visited their new home. I had to tell her that I did not know her address and she was kind of surprised. Known for being frank I went to their house and jokingly told Mr. R S that he owed us a party. He simply smiled and gave no explanation. I continued to be in touch with his wife but kept wondering what went wrong. Was it something between the men folk? My husband insisted that he had given no reason for Mr. R S to distance himself. He was probably busy at his work. Finally, when Mrs. R S told me that she had asked her husband to look after the son while she accompanied me to the temple and her husband was sarcastic when he spoke of her having friends who could pick her up and drop her back, I decided that enough was enough. If my good will gesture was going to be misinterpreted I was not going to stretch myself and hold on to the friendship. I still respond when she calls up. I visited R S when he was in hospital but that’s it.

Till date I wonder if I over reacted. Mrs. R S really needs me. I certainly don’t intend to create a rift between them. I feel very angry that he should let her handle the boy all by herself and not let her have an hour’s outing even on Sundays saying that he had to rest. Was that the reason or does he want her to lead a cocooned life always? I suppose she repeats our conversations - that are mainly counseling sessions – to him. Does it make him insecure? I do feel bad but I cannot impose myself on them. To top it Mrs. R S does not realize or understand that I deliberately avoid visiting her. She puts my not visiting or calling her to my being busy. Cooped up in the house with the son, she is showing signs of mental instability. She once forgot to switch off the mobile and I could hear her screaming at the son who had perhaps soiled his pants. Can I not have a moment of relaxation? She had asked. Didn’t I just take you to the rest room? Why didn’t you relieve yourself then? Are you a dog – she had screamed. This was hardly the person she was a few years back. I really wish to be of help. How do I do it without compromising on my self respect??

‘The Palace of Illusions’

I have just finished reading ‘The Palace of Illusions’ by Chitra Divakaruni Banerjee and I find myself viewing the well known epic Mahabharat from an entirely different angle. The authoress ought to be commended for approaching the epic from Draupadi’s angle. I would not say that I have never wondered how Draupadi felt on being married to five men or how she felt after the war was won. After all she was instrumental in pitching the Pandavas and Kauravas against each other and at the end of it just the five Pandav brothers remained. Draupadi lost her sons, brother, father and a whole lot of well wishers just because they chose to support her cause. Did she feel avenged or did she feel guilty? The book had answers to many questions that would often come to my mind. The concluding chapters were the best. Draupadi mellows down and realizes that the price paid to restore her honor was heavy and works towards counseling and rehabilitating war widows. She finally learns to let go. I would suggest book lovers to get hold of the book and enjoy it. It has a romantic side too harping on Draupadi’s unfulfilled love for Karna that remains buried in her heart till death. A review of the book is available here.

Soul Mate or Sole Mate?

My 38^th wedding anniversary is just round the corner and I wanted to put down what life has been to me after I got married. Did I feel more secure? Less secure?? Ours was an arranged marriage so till date my heart refuses to skip a beat when I think of him. I think I really don’t have a romantic bent of mind. Parents got us married and after the initial hiccups we simply adjusted. I care a lot for him and he too reciprocates in equal measure. There are times when I wonder what if it had been someone else whom I had married? I suppose I would have taken my responsibilities seriously irrespective of whom or what my husband happened to be. I suspect that it is the same with my husband. Now that brings up my next question. In an arranged marriage like ours is the spouse one’s soul mate or sole mate.

Long back when my children were in their high school classes my husband and I would have our chat sessions while getting ready for work. I’d make him help with dicing vegetables and scraping coconut and we would have something or the other to talk about. It would be Lalu Prasad Yadav’s fodder scam one day or Jayalalitha’s foster son’s lavish wedding on another day. By then the children would get ready for school on their own and pack their lunch boxes too. I remember a particular instance when my second daughter who is normally quiet said-

“How much can the two of you talk, mummy? You go on and on and find new topics to discuss every other day.”

“Does it bother you in any way?”

“No, it doesn’t except when it gets a little loud. I wonder how our neighbor’s don’t protest.”

Nearly 20 years have gone by and we still chatter like school children. To be correct, I must add that he talks and I listen. But the timings have changed. He has retired from work while I haven’t. I ought to have superannuated this January but our retirement age has been increased by 2 years and I continue to work. It is something like this nowadays.

I am up around 5:30 in the morning and by then my husband has had his morning coffee. I rub my eyes and pick up my tooth paste and brush and my soul mate gets going-

“Do you know Kalmadi ………………

Or

“Ramdevbaba ……………….

Or

“Kanimozhi…………………

I have to tell him that I need to freshen up. Could he please wait a few minutes till I get done?

Otherwise I have just managed to climb the 52 steps that lead to my flat and slid into the sofa after throwing my purse and bag aside.

“Can you believe it? The spectrum scam …………”

I feel like asking him if it cannot wait till I have a wash and make myself a cup of tea? But I don’t. We are not only soul mates but sole mates as well. He is otherwise a very quiet person and takes time to make friends. He gets invited by other senior citizen to join their group but I am the only senior citizen he feels inclined to interact with. Like children that expect the mother to give them her attention once they return from school my husband too would like me to give him my time and attention. He has been alone all day and this is one thing he expects of me. Very early in our marriage we had mutually agreed that we would not discuss each other’s family. All families had a good side and a bad side in their set up. So it has to be national and international news that we discuss. And what do I get in return?

I am dragged for my morning walks since it benefits my health. Were it not for him I would sleep till seven in the morning. May be I wouldn’t but I would not religiously go for my walk.

He religiously wipes my car each morning. When I ask him to get someone to do it he refuses saying that they don’t do a good job of it. True, but prying eyes and wagging tongues do not keep quiet. Mr. Cha, the short one mentioned in an earlier post got into my car one morning asking to be dropped off at the market. For the favor I do to him he gets started-

“R does a good job of wiping the car each morning. He does it with a lot of care and concern”.

I wondered if he was being sarcastic. He then continued-

“He doesn’t drive does he?”

“No” I replied.

“Happy to be escorted by you, ha, ha!”

I felt like dumping him midway. When I reported this conversation to my husband he laughed it off saying-

“He is plain jealous that you can drive while his wife and daughter in law cannot. He has to wait for his son to take him anywhere in town. Poor man you should understand his predicament”. He is otherwise a sensitive person but when I am in the picture he has no complex and I love him for his simplicity.

Apart from this there are a hundred ways in which he makes himself useful and I do the same. He is technophobic and cannot handle ATM cards, internet booking/banking or even the mobile phone. And I’ve stopped making beds ever since I started working. I think that is what marriage does to one. A sole mate becomes a soul mate or is it the other way round? The two seem interchangeable. These days he takes up for my brothers and sisters while I defend his. The distinction has blurred and ours is one big family. We are planning a visit to Chennai and he has started accumulating ghee for my niece (sister’s daughter) who is expecting a baby!

I suppose arranged marriage is as good as love marriage if ‘soul’ and ‘sole’ become complementary as it does in most.

In continuation.........

In continuation with my previous post I wish to add an observation made by me in the past couple of days. A family friend let me call him Mr. T, came over to our place saying that he wanted to consult my husband and me on an important matter. We knew that he had shortlisted a few houses to be taken on rent and guessed that he was unable to decide on the one that would be appropriate to house him and his ailing wife for the next year or so. His wife is on dialysis following kidney failure and the two of them were staying with their daughter in Chennai since her residence was at walking distance from a well equipped hospital. The couples are now in a dilemma. The daughter is expecting a foreign assignment and is likely to take it up. It would be selfish of them to expect her to let the offer go. But finding a house in Jamshedpur in a week’s time is also a difficult proposition. They have three other children but none of them is able to take charge. The older son is in America and is funding the treatment. The younger son is posted in rural Tamilnadu and has a touring job. Medical facility is not the best in the area he lives. The second daughter living in Mumbai is willing to take responsibility but her house if very far from the hospital and commuting in a metro would be hard on the ailing wife. And to top it Mr. T is the main care giver since he is the only one free to attend to her with both daughters working. He naturally feels that Jamshedpur being a known town this would be the best place for him to shift.

It is really no one’s fault as one can see. The children have been doing their best for the past two years. With time a certain amount of frustration tends to set in. The older daughter feels that she is taking on more than her share of responsibility. But apart from letting them stay at her place she does little else. No, there is no cause for complaint. the demand of her job is such that she has very little time to spare. Her mother walks to the hospital on her own for her dialysis and it is only when she returns after 4 hours that she feels weak and needs to hire an auto-rickshaw and it is Mr. T that escorts her to the hospital and back. Whenever Mr. T comes over to Jamshedpur the younger daughter takes over. But he is expected to return within 10 days because she has to return to work.

But to manage a patient all by himself would not be easy at the age of 68 I said. I mean there could be an emergency and as mentioned in my last post connectivity to our town is not the best. He is looking for accommodation close to the hospital that his wife would check into for her tri weekly dialysis. That part of the town is not the very best since the national highway is part of the route they need to take to reach hospital. Apart from being very far from our house it is accident prone and driving two /three wheelers in the area is risky. I remembered the time when these children were studying and Mr. T was forced to retire by the organization he worked for. His wife stood in support by his side and saw to it that their education did not suffer. I only regret that now that the financially difficult phase of their lives has been eased out health problems have crept in The relaxation that one looks forward to in the twilight of his/her life was perhaps not in their destiny. If this is the situation when children are caring and concerned I dread to think of a situation when finance is a problem and children bicker on who the care giver ought to be.

Whose fault is it??

The last week was a very eventful eye opener. I realized for the first time that my husband too could have health problems. Touch wood he does not have hypertension or blood sugar. He has maintained his weight for the past 37 years and it has not crossed sixty kilograms ever. So I was naturally under the impression that with all the luxury ailments affecting me I was the one who needed to be enquired after and pampered. So, Imagine my shock when on our return from our morning walk, he, who was opening the door of our flat suddenly fell down without a warning and remained unconscious for... well, may be a minute. He had hurt the back of his skull and blood was trickling down. I was just a few steps behind him and when I rushed to him his eyes were upturned for a moment and even when he opened them he did not seem to recognize me. He smiled and asked whether it was six o’ clock already. Only when I shook him up did he remember that we had returned from our walk and that he had fallen down. He claims that he was fine when we climbed up and attributes his fall to gas in the stomach. I have no doubt that he was fine when we were returning since he was talking of Kalmadi and Kanimozhi and was indulging in his favorite Congress bashing on our way back. His 5’ 7” frame falling like a tree that is felled in one stroke, shocked me to the extent that I kept brooding over our future in Jamshedpur. In this otherwise pleasant city, medical facility and connectivity are not the best. My children in distant shores may not reach immediately even if they tried and what if one of us needed special medical attention? Those who wish to help us among our friends may not be able to move us out if the situation so demanded.

These were questions that kept haunting me when a second incidence shook me for a second time in the week. Relaxing during summer vacations was not destined for me I suppose. A neighbor, who lives in the floor above ours, suddenly took ill. She perhaps had a heat stroke since she spoke of having attended a house warming the previous afternoon. It was about 10:30 in the morning when we heard someone banging her door. We could hear her wailing from within. The door was bolted and she could not open it. My first thought was whether she had burnt herself. Soon there were four of us trying to coax her to open the door and all that the helpless woman could do was to scream incoherently. Thank God for the second rate material used, the door gave way and we entered. The lady had managed to wrap a night gown over her body and was writhing on the floor screaming like an animal in pain. It took us a while to understand that she was asking for glucose water. Her son was sent for and we rushed her to the hospital where she was administered glucose intravenously. She had loose motions in the morning and was severely dehydrated. She complained of severe chest pain too. Once she was in the hands of doctors, we relaxed. She is a widow having lost her husband when her son was seven years old. The boy is now 25 and is yet to find a suitable job. He is simple and naive unlike the street smart youngsters one sees these days. Luckily her son’s former tuition master is like family to them and she managed to ring him up for help. She is now better and has been discharged from hospital.

As if this was not enough a third incident had to take place that depressed me more than the other two. Mr. S mentioned in this post of mine had met with an accident a few days ago and the family planned to take him to Kolkata for further treatment. His daughter and son were sent for. The daughter works in Kolkata and had brought an uncle along to help her escort her father back. An auto - rickshaw had been sent for and they were about to leave when their son picked up a quarrel with his sister. Both parents were helpless when the boy flew into a rage and threatened to throttle the girl to death. The pleadings of the mother fell on deaf ears he just would not let go. The uncle finally managed to pacify him and gently took the father down. The mother also accompanied them but the boy stayed back threatening to burn the house down and he sounded as if he would do it. We could hear him scream for the next hour and cool down later.

These incidents indicate how helpless parents have become. We complain about not having any of our children in India but are those that have children at accessible distances any better? The boy mentioned in the third incident was my son’s play mate and grew up like any of the other children of his age. But the temper tantrums that I had earlier attributed to teen troubles persist even now. He is around thirty years old and instead of being a support to his younger sister is yet to take up family responsibility. I can imagine how helpless his parents must feel.

Society too has changed. The widow had to ring up her son’s tuition master living around two kilometers away for help. This only shows the kind of isolated lives we lead. Social visits have become a thing of the past. Neighbors do not share their problems with each other. It was my servant who told me that Mr. S who was on a two wheeler had been hit by a speeding vehicle and has sustained a head injury. Were it not for her information I might have taken show of temper as the regular thing that happened in households with a hot headed son. I do wonder whether the senior citizen’s home would be a better alternative to deal with the aloofness that has become part of society?

Of this and that........

I’ve been a declared diabetic since the past 10 years and hypertensive since the past 12 years. Popping pills is something I’ve never liked but these health conditions do not allow even a day’s break from pill popping. I feel a little depressed at the thought of spending a fortune on pills and potions. Yes if I add the massage oil I apply and ayurvedic medicines I swallow for my arthritis and I think I spend a neat 1000 rupees per month to maintain my health. When I feel low I crib about these things, worry about the load my liver and kidneys take and wonder when the two will revolt. I know that they will sooner or later.

Apart from popping pills these ‘sukh rogs’(luxury ailments) prevent me from consuming food of any kind without feeling guilty and gluttonous. No sugar and minimum starch for my diabetic condition. Less salt, almost no pickles and papads and minimum oil for my hypertensive constitution. And a low protein diet with no tamarind, uncooked tomatoes and minimum salad vegetables is recommended for my arthritis. Any vegetable that grows underground is to be avoided. I am not a great fan of potatoes but yam and coco yam roasted crisp in oil and consumed with Mysore rasam……. The thought makes my mouth water.

Is it fair? I feel like throwing caution out of the window and consuming my favorite south Indian items with plenty of tamarind and asafetida. But I am subjected to weekly grilling by my children and glares by my husband the moment I extend a hand towards the pickle bottle. Poor man, he offers to give up spicy food on my account.

Oh, no why would you do that? I say and I really mean it.

But take the case of Mr. Cha…. and his friend Mr. Cha…….. residing in our apartment complex, both nearing 80 years of age. I haven’t met a cuter pair of oldies. One is tall and thin while the other is short and though not stout appears so due to his short stature. On quite a few occasions the two would stop me on my way to college and ask to be dropped at the local market some half a kilometer from my area. There would be other occasions when I would see them getting into someone else’s car and invariably got down near the market. They would not have any shopping bag or any such stuff and I’d regularly spot their sons and daughters in law carrying loads of stuff from the car parking area to their house. I assumed that their children did the main marketing and the two of them went to purchase things for themselves and I mentioned this to an acquaintance.

”Don’t you know why they go to the market so often?” she asked. “It is an open secret in our complex.”

The point is that after college I hardly go down to join the chat session that the ladies in our complex indulge in, after preparing dinner, in the play area of our complex. So I have very little knowledge of what goes on in the complex. It seems Mr. Cha…. and his friend are both diabetic and their wives do not include sugar or items rich in starch in their menu. The two go to the market, visit a few grocery shops and ask for jaggery to taste. They find fault with its quality saying that it was a little sour or slightly salty and move on to the next shop. That way they would cover a few shops and return home. The following day they would visit a few hotels and sweet shops and ask for whatever sweets that was fresh saying that they would taste the items first and decide on what to buy for the family. That way their craving for sweets would be satisfied as would their desire to outwit their wives.

I wonder why the desire to eat forbidden food is the general rule. It actually began with Adam and Eve. I felt like crying the moment my doctor said that I would have to reduce consuming tamarind. The pani puri and dahi papdi that we occasionally ordered from the college canteen included uncooked tamarind pulp diluted as per requirement. This had to be stopped as would the spicy chutneys and Tambrahm delicacies like ‘vattal kuzhambu and milagu kuzhambu’. My friends offered their support and for the next few days we survived on sprouted lentils and roasted Bengal gram. I felt more deprived than them and we decided on a middle path. We’d order pani puris once a month and restrict it to two plates between the six of us. And I would be allowed just one piece – no cheating or making a sad face – I was warned. My children were better. They monitored on a weekly basis and that too over the phone. Out here I have at least 5 well wishers ready to give up their favorite food items for me. I am indeed touched.

Actually my doctor is not that particular about my following a strict diet chart. God bless the man! He allows me everything and anything I wish to eat as long as I restrict my consumption to one or two pieces per day of any one form of fruit/sweets/pickle or papad. Fair enough. I love fruits and would gladly restrict myself to a permitted level rather than eat in excess now and be denied fruits in any form later.

Eat what you want to, but in moderation is the message. I have taken up the challenge of losing at least 2 to 3 kilograms of weight in the next four weeks. I am trying out what my daughter describes as liquid diet. Like a little dalia mashed and mixed with dal, vegetables and diluted with rasam. Or well cooked oats blended with milk. Anything that I consume has to be diluted and gulped down. Do wish me luck since I need to lose not just 3 kilos but at least 10 kilos of weight. I am starting with 3 kilos since I want to set realistic targets.

Minding one's business.........

I often wonder why a person is good or bad. I mean the good ones really unnerve me. They see goodness in all things unlike normal people like me who rave and rant on issues that do not in any way affect them. Did I call myself normal? There are several people who beg to differ. An incident that took place long back comes to my mind.

It was almost 12 or 13 years back that a girl known to me joined our college as an assistant having got the job on compassionate grounds. The VC had been pleased to appoint her and she was to join immediately. Around the time several of our colleagues were working on ad hoc basis and were expecting their services to be regularized. They felt that the appointment of people on compassionate grounds posed a threat to the process of regularization of their services and opposed her joining. I tried to reason that the two issues were different and the vice chancellor’s order had to be obeyed. The VC may take their protests to mean dissidence and terminate their services instead of regularizing it. The very colleagues who had worked with me for nearly 16 years turned against me and interpreted my stand as my interest in seeing the girl, who was known to me, join our college. Sensing antagonism my colleagues tried to take me away from the scene. I stood right there trying to reason with the group. I then had an experience of dealing with mob frenzy and it was not very pleasant. At the end of the day my blood pressure soared and I was on medical leave for the next 15 days.

Till today my well wishers recount the incidence and say that there was no reason for me to have gotten worked up. It was not my service that was at stake and it was not me that was protesting. Why then did I have to worry about a bunch of ad hoc employees who were being fooled into believing that the appointment of one person on compassionate grounds would affect their being regularized? It was an issue between them and the vice chancellor and I was nowhere in the picture. It was enough to have to worry about one’s family and children. Did the group for whom I allowed my blood pressure to soar even acknowledge that I was truly worried about them?

While I get disturbed at the thought of my colleagues misunderstanding my intention, my friends think otherwise. They reason that with time the group did understand that they were wrong. The girl, whose appointment they opposed, did join on the very day and it was only 5 years later that services of the group of ad hoc employees got regularized. And above all I learnt a valuable lesson – to set my limits and never to take health risks. These days I try – remember that I only try – not to overdo anything. I have my friends to pinch me hard when I try to play the moderator and to advice me to allow people to learn for themselves.

I do wonder if I was wrong in trying to reason with a group of frustrated employees or if they were better off left to themselves. Like many other questions this question has either no correct answer or more than one correct option.

The world watches...........

I consider myself a real dull person. Oh yes, I get ready and go to work and interact with my colleagues with whom I have managed to bond over time. But apart from that my social life is next to nil. Because of my arthritis I hardly climb down once I reach my 4^th floor apartment unless absolutely essential. For one thing I cannot remember faces. The other day a woman with a familiar face greeted me on my way back to my apartment. She was standing beside a man who I recognized as my friend Poornima’s brother who perhaps lived in Bokaro (or was it Dhanbad??) and I promptly decided that the lady was his wife.

“Returning home??” I asked taking care not to mention the place as I was not sure. The woman looked a little confused and hurt. I promptly rectified my mistake and pointed out to the gentleman and said –

“I meant him.”

“Yeah, my sister in law’s family is returning to Bokaro (Aha, I was not too far off the mark). I’ve come to see them off.”

I still could not place her however hard I tried. I decided to pretend that I was getting late for work and waved a hasty good bye and went home.

I spent the entire day trying to figure out who the woman was. I then remembered. She was the woman who’d keep peeping out of her bedroom window till the auto picked her daughter up for school. I’d spot the mother and daughter –one waiting for the auto and the other peeping from the window – during my morning walk. This was the first time I was seeing her as a person and not a face. She would wave out from her window and I would wave back. It was really very bad of me not to remember.

But then I do have a problem with faces. I can look at a person and think ‘he/she looks so much like X,Y or Z’. Only much later would I realize that it was the person who I took him/her to be and not anyone like him/her. And I have at other times smiled at the wrong person and almost asked “Kaise ho??” (How are you) stopping just in the nick of time.

I am what I am but then others are also what they are. The other day I went for a seminar on medicinal plants and had to leave a little before the program got over. I was not very familiar with the place and had asked a friend to take me along in her car. While I waited for her to reverse her car a gentle man, who was also apparently leaving, approached the gate.

“Leaving?” he asked.

“Yes, the program is almost over.”

“Didn’t bhai saab (my husband) come?”

Who in the world could this person be?? I wondered.

“No” I tried to restrict my responses to monosyllables.

“Are there any flats available in Geetanjali (my apartment complex) for rent?” he asked.

So he knew where I lived. I started feeling uneasy. I still could not place him.

“You need to ask the society officials” I replied. “They have proper knowledge of these things.”

“Coming straight from college?” he was in no mood to leave me alone. “I don’t see your car anywhere. You drive an Alto don’t you?”

“I accompanied a friend. But please tell me, do we know each other?” I thought that he was perhaps an ex colleague of my husband.

To my relief he replied-

“No, ma’am, I don’t think you know me. I regularly visit Dr. Bhattamishra who lives in your area since he is my nephew. I’ve seen you often on your way to college. I’ve also seen you and bhai saab returning from your morning walk. I heard from Saswati (the doctor’s wife) that you work in a local college and that your husband makes and markets excellent masala. I too live close by. Aha, I see that your friend is waiting for you. See you then.”

Out of courtesy I asked if he needed to be dropped anywhere. He declined saying that he had his own vehicle and that he was waiting for his wife to come out.

I was shocked and it took me a while to become normal. Here I was, leading an insignificant existence and a total stranger seems to know so much about me. It was quite shocking. On my way back I tried to recall the man’s face. I could recall the conversation but his face was a blur in my memory. Recounting the entire conversation to my friend on my way home, I wondered aloud whether I’d be able to recognize him if I met him again.

My friend laughed heartily saying that she would have to report the incident to my husband and make sure if I remembered his face as well as the faces of our other friends.

“I am not that bad” I retorted.

Another incident that took place almost twenty years back came back to my mind. It was summertime and I had no access to internet booking. I went in person to the railway station to book tickets for my daughter and niece who had to return to Chennai after the summer vacations. The queue was long and I managed to reach the counter just a little before it closed down. My niece had not got her concession countersigned by the station master at Chennai so I had to buy a full ticket for her. It was then that I realized that I was short of money by about a hundred rupees. The dealing clerk asked me to come the following day which meant another long queue.

“Ma’am” said a voice behind me. “Take hundred rupees from me and buy the ticket. Why do you want to waste time tomorrow?”

He gave me the money and I bought the ticket without even turning around to see who the person was.

I waited for him to emerge and asked him as to how I may return his money. Would he give me his address?

“Aren’t you a teacherji who lives in Kadma?” he asked.

“Yes” I replied “but how do you know me?”

“I’ve seen you boarding the auto rickshaw right outside Vijay Bhandar in Kadma. I am the shop owner Ravi’s cousin and I often stop by to chat with him and to have a cup of tea with him. You can give this money to him”.

I was touched. A total stranger comes to my aid knowing nothing about me. I always felt that Vijay Bhandar was an expensive shop and almost never bought anything from there. Yet here was a person who offered the right kind of help even without my asking.

When I think of these incidents I also feel that one may not watch the world but the world watches and makes a mental note of each one of us. We are judged by what we are and not by who we happen to be.

Ramblings of a grandma........

I was feeling very very ancient when I spotted two college students, a girl and a boy, in the park where we had taken our students for field work and almost asked them why they had bunked class.

'None of your business', whispered my colleague. 'They are not our students. We are here to get our students acquainted with the flora of Jharkhand. We are supposed to 'see' green not 'go' green'.

The students belonged to two other local colleges. From her uniform (BBA and BCA students have a dress code in Jamshedpur) I could understand that the girl was from another women's college in town. They were also probably having fun at our expense. That they displayed a fairly high degree of intimacy was bad enough but they would constantly check out if we were watching as our lab attendant pointed out. Well with realty shows and 'Rakhi ka swayamvar' flooding our channels I think gray haired grandmas like me ought to 'see no evil' in teenagers romancing in public places. The government spends a fortune on their education charging them Rs. 24/- per month and paying us UGC scales. Would they listen if we told them that it was through the tax payer's money that we were getting paid and their parents were probably tax payers that contributed towards it. As far as they were concerned, I was a jealous cat , that's it!!

Had it not been for the brutal killing of a college student by her spurned lover, I might have ignored the activities of teenagers as part of their getting acquainted with members of the opposite sex. I feel worried now. I wonder if I ought to do something to make them realize that their studies should be placed high on their priority list. I mean what should colleges and schools do to prevent such incidents from happening? I have written about it here. Our youngsters are too precious to lose. What should be our role as responsible citizen of India in the matter?

Child Sexual abuse - right at our doorstep???

The ongoing discussions on child sexual abuse are nearly ending. Survivor stories were truly heart breaking and I was moved to tears while going through them. I truly wish and pray that each one of them feels better after sharing their story and is now prepared to move on in life. Kiran and Monika deserve all the praise that one can possibly heap upon them for enabling us to participate on a very delicate but acute malaise that society prefers to pretend does not exist – at least not in one’s circle. It does exist and will continue to haunt little children unless we as responsible citizen pledge to do something about it. Let not all the trouble taken by the initiators of this project and others who actively participated in it, go waste. Let us each one keep our eyes and ears open and do our bit to help victims of abuse and their families now and always.

Having said this, I would really like to know the psychology behind such sexual perversion. I mean, it is not everyone that feels the need to molest young children and sexually abuse them. For every abuser there are several wonderful, normal fathers, uncles/aunts etc. I wonder if there is some way one can identify potential abusers. Most survivor stories indicate that such people pass off for very normal and caring human beings that make it scarier. I think the best course would be to build an atmosphere of trust in the family so that children feel comfortable reporting abuse.

The reports of abuse and survivor stories are going to remain with me for a long time. Thank you Monika and Kiran! I am now a much more sensitive human being because of you.