Grab the Headlines.....ANYHOW!!!
There is fame in being infamous. The present times ruled by media are a perfect testimony to this observation. The convention has become a rule going by the numerable stories of bad gone good when publicity is the concern.
Rahul Mahajan is a house hold name. He is not only known but also loved. His claim to fame? One media show. Yes exactly! His father’s legacy has nothing to do with Rahul’s popularity. It is a stark difference to the days when he was caught red handed with drugs. He fell in the public eye at a time when the party was looking at him as a substitute to their lost leader. His nervous press conference did nothing to improve his stand which further worsened with news of his being a wife beater followed by the divorce ending his short lived marriage. Oops, a long list of ‘not so good boy’ image builders….. Circa December 2009, Rahul Mahajan is hailed as the most promising winner of a television show and then appears in another one to judge children’s comic talents.
Similar is the case of one Rakhi Sawant. From a sleazy item girl to a hot shot anchor and celebrity, she is the most mimicked personality on Indian Television. An upbeat channel like Zoom roped in this once tagged ‘laughably low class’ dancer. Controversies ranging from vulgar outfits in Kohlapur to the Mikka kiss did her good. So did the drama on a reality TV show and her naive raw tactics on another. Once, the media found nothing right with her, from her manners to opinions, dressing to talking ….circa November 2009, Miss Sawant looks good, talks sense, is elegant, presentable, talented and well in demand. She is paid highly for mere guest appearances. Her claim to fame? Being notorious back in the history.
We have had examples like Phoolan Devi who jogged from the Chambal straight to the Parliament. Veerappan indeed would be jealous! Only if he had known the power of being hated so popularly!…. Ah, but some realize it and make hey while the sun shines. Monica Bedi, the talk of the town-Abu Salem’s love interest, is banking upon the ‘fame’ factor to turn her image one eighty degrees. Bravo Miss Bedi.
Seems our politicians had long ago known the advantages of being known, then be it in any sense. Renowned gangsters win elections, so do popular bad guys. Either it is the sympathy or the public acquaintance, whatever, it does them good. It is evident that if you are not able to win a Miss India crown or cannot be a Bollywood star, manage to do something that bags you the headlines ….for good or bad reasons, is your choice…but just a piece of advice, the badder, the better. Hey come on now, don’t frown at the wrong word coinage… you as public, are known to forgive so much, this is just a petty grammatical error!
Going by the thumb rule, proven by the above cases, the future seems the brightest for Muntadhar al-Zeidi and the likes.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Biji
LESSONS OF LIFE
Let me tell you a story today. And like the film waalas I’m not going to disclaim any similarities to any character living or dead. It is in fact, a true story about a true person in a true situation. Truth as they say is bitter, don’t hope for a happy ending therefore.
Once upon a time, some years ago, during an era; choose the beginning that suits you best. So I was telling you that during my childhood we lived in a rented house owned by a wealthy landlord of our small city. On the terrace was a room inhabited by an old lady addressed as Biji. She was over sixty and lived all alone, cooked by herself and cribbed all day. She would enquire what the time was some seventy two times a day to the irritation of the neighbours and mohallewaalas. A boy, whom I thought, was her son came to meet her once in three days. Upon asking, my mother told me that he was her husband’s son from a second wife. Biji used to be a beautiful high class society wife in her times. But, she could not bear any children despite medical aids and innumerous test. In desire of an heir, she convinced her husband to get remarried. The man loved her dearly and would not budge at the idea of getting a second wife. She had persuaded him by fasting, weeping, vowing, arguing et al. The new lady bore four children to Lalaji. The eldest one was very attached to Biji and he was the one who visited her now. But why was she left to lead this life of a solitary person when her full family existed? Had she committed a crime? What was so wrong with her that she had to be left this way?
The only wrong, the only crime was her being infertile. The woman who bore children came to acquire the supreme status gradually and the enmity that exists between any two competing women persisted. The property, the husband, the children- all were coveted possession to be claimed by the victorious one. Biji lost the battle and was thrown out of the house. Being her legal husband, the man put her in this room on one of his properties. The thing that disturbed me the most after having learnt her story was that her husband had never come to see her. Was this the plight of the lady whom he had loved so much, married and adored?
Biji was very beautiful even at this age and after so much. Her youth beyond the wrinkles would surely have made many crazy. But, today, she was going crazy, battling her solitude and pangs of seclusion. She asked what the time was not because she had appointments to keep but to know how much of it had passed, how much remained; to see a human face pop out of a house to answer her. Being illiterate Biji had no other way to connect with the living world other than by talking. However, with limited life and exposure, what topics could she chat about? The time … of course. After a while she stopped cooking listing her age as an excuse. But I think, this was her way of making someone from her family to come to her thrice a day to deliver her meals. She had taken seriously ill and after much deliberation was taken to her house, her own house, where she breathed her last within a few hours.
What had Biji done to deserve such a life and such an end? The story of this woman whom I saw every day for five consecutive years makes me wonder what use are the scientific temper, the modern thought if they can not alter the plight of the women of our age?
Let me tell you a story today. And like the film waalas I’m not going to disclaim any similarities to any character living or dead. It is in fact, a true story about a true person in a true situation. Truth as they say is bitter, don’t hope for a happy ending therefore.
Once upon a time, some years ago, during an era; choose the beginning that suits you best. So I was telling you that during my childhood we lived in a rented house owned by a wealthy landlord of our small city. On the terrace was a room inhabited by an old lady addressed as Biji. She was over sixty and lived all alone, cooked by herself and cribbed all day. She would enquire what the time was some seventy two times a day to the irritation of the neighbours and mohallewaalas. A boy, whom I thought, was her son came to meet her once in three days. Upon asking, my mother told me that he was her husband’s son from a second wife. Biji used to be a beautiful high class society wife in her times. But, she could not bear any children despite medical aids and innumerous test. In desire of an heir, she convinced her husband to get remarried. The man loved her dearly and would not budge at the idea of getting a second wife. She had persuaded him by fasting, weeping, vowing, arguing et al. The new lady bore four children to Lalaji. The eldest one was very attached to Biji and he was the one who visited her now. But why was she left to lead this life of a solitary person when her full family existed? Had she committed a crime? What was so wrong with her that she had to be left this way?
The only wrong, the only crime was her being infertile. The woman who bore children came to acquire the supreme status gradually and the enmity that exists between any two competing women persisted. The property, the husband, the children- all were coveted possession to be claimed by the victorious one. Biji lost the battle and was thrown out of the house. Being her legal husband, the man put her in this room on one of his properties. The thing that disturbed me the most after having learnt her story was that her husband had never come to see her. Was this the plight of the lady whom he had loved so much, married and adored?
Biji was very beautiful even at this age and after so much. Her youth beyond the wrinkles would surely have made many crazy. But, today, she was going crazy, battling her solitude and pangs of seclusion. She asked what the time was not because she had appointments to keep but to know how much of it had passed, how much remained; to see a human face pop out of a house to answer her. Being illiterate Biji had no other way to connect with the living world other than by talking. However, with limited life and exposure, what topics could she chat about? The time … of course. After a while she stopped cooking listing her age as an excuse. But I think, this was her way of making someone from her family to come to her thrice a day to deliver her meals. She had taken seriously ill and after much deliberation was taken to her house, her own house, where she breathed her last within a few hours.
What had Biji done to deserve such a life and such an end? The story of this woman whom I saw every day for five consecutive years makes me wonder what use are the scientific temper, the modern thought if they can not alter the plight of the women of our age?
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
How Hooked can You Get?
YOUR HOROSCOPE TODAY
Hence proved! What? Well, the fact that you have decided to read this piece among many others is itself a testimony of the attraction you felt towards the topic. How the world nowadays is lured by the tarot cards, horoscope predictions, numerology, star positions, palmistry and the likes seems strange. Why so? On one side we have landed on the moon and are vying to reach the stars and on the other we tend to believe that all the planetary objects conspire to direct the lives of the humans living on this planet Earth. Isn’t this an interesting paradox?
There was a time when the contemporary thinking was catching up…ah! Rather it seems more appropriate to say.. once upon a time India was getting educated and abandoning the superstitions it had lived with for ages. However, those times of rebel, revolutions and scientific temprament are long gone. Today the parrot readers have given way to much sophisticated Pundits and Devis who claim long time slots on our channels and huge space in our newspapers. And here, the mention of media infuriates me further. The fourth estate, the watchdog, the gatekeeper…woo what names ... but are all these addresses justified for the media of today, which seems to have forgotten its function of forming the public opinion in the mad craze to raise TRPs and readership. The more you make the people fearful of the uncertainties of their future, the more will you be able to pull them to the solution offered by the Vastu and Kundali experts is the Mantra of the media today.
Solar and Lunar eclipses take shape of opportunities to offer ideas of how your lives shall get affected by the heavenly bodies today; earthquakes and Tsunamis are predicted by the Pundits; performances of players and box office conditions of films are calculated by the numerology experts; Tarot card readers tell us whether a government shall win a no confidence motion…. Oops, what great science! Loose the charm of living in every moment to the efforts of knowing the future is the idea being propagated. The ripples of mysticism and fallacy are forming and rising with no near possibilities of an end.
Influenced by the high class Bas and Bahus of Balaji, the Indian middle class had turned back to Kundalis and horoscope matching as foundations of a healthy marriage. Names of new borns have again come to be suggested by palm leave readers. This is an uncanny alteration when compared to the modern thought that ruled our society in the mid 70s and 80s. The age of liberalization has again come to be dominated by traditionalism. I say again because four decades back India and Indians had started to learn to believe in themselves, but now the trust has gone back to the stars. The power that we had has shifted back to the planets.
Ah, all you believers who started reading me with some expectation of knowing your lucky colour and lucky number for today, I shouldn’t disappoint you. So here is your horoscope today: You will believe any Tom Dick and Harry who writes any horoscope column in any newspaper. Correct?
Hence proved! What? Well, the fact that you have decided to read this piece among many others is itself a testimony of the attraction you felt towards the topic. How the world nowadays is lured by the tarot cards, horoscope predictions, numerology, star positions, palmistry and the likes seems strange. Why so? On one side we have landed on the moon and are vying to reach the stars and on the other we tend to believe that all the planetary objects conspire to direct the lives of the humans living on this planet Earth. Isn’t this an interesting paradox?
There was a time when the contemporary thinking was catching up…ah! Rather it seems more appropriate to say.. once upon a time India was getting educated and abandoning the superstitions it had lived with for ages. However, those times of rebel, revolutions and scientific temprament are long gone. Today the parrot readers have given way to much sophisticated Pundits and Devis who claim long time slots on our channels and huge space in our newspapers. And here, the mention of media infuriates me further. The fourth estate, the watchdog, the gatekeeper…woo what names ... but are all these addresses justified for the media of today, which seems to have forgotten its function of forming the public opinion in the mad craze to raise TRPs and readership. The more you make the people fearful of the uncertainties of their future, the more will you be able to pull them to the solution offered by the Vastu and Kundali experts is the Mantra of the media today.
Solar and Lunar eclipses take shape of opportunities to offer ideas of how your lives shall get affected by the heavenly bodies today; earthquakes and Tsunamis are predicted by the Pundits; performances of players and box office conditions of films are calculated by the numerology experts; Tarot card readers tell us whether a government shall win a no confidence motion…. Oops, what great science! Loose the charm of living in every moment to the efforts of knowing the future is the idea being propagated. The ripples of mysticism and fallacy are forming and rising with no near possibilities of an end.
Influenced by the high class Bas and Bahus of Balaji, the Indian middle class had turned back to Kundalis and horoscope matching as foundations of a healthy marriage. Names of new borns have again come to be suggested by palm leave readers. This is an uncanny alteration when compared to the modern thought that ruled our society in the mid 70s and 80s. The age of liberalization has again come to be dominated by traditionalism. I say again because four decades back India and Indians had started to learn to believe in themselves, but now the trust has gone back to the stars. The power that we had has shifted back to the planets.
Ah, all you believers who started reading me with some expectation of knowing your lucky colour and lucky number for today, I shouldn’t disappoint you. So here is your horoscope today: You will believe any Tom Dick and Harry who writes any horoscope column in any newspaper. Correct?
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
She and the Craze!
The Shopping Spree
Women are really great. They will not disappoint you ... hey hold on...don’t assume this is going to be a feminist advocated view. Let me just complete the sentence: They will never disappoint you if you challenge them to spend huge amounts of money within minutes. They are innately blessed with this art of being able to shop shop and shop till they drop. With the festive season on and the shops decorated to attract the fairer sex especially, this is the perfect time to do a research on the ladies’ marketing strategies.
One thing that I often notice is the way they invade the shops and pleasantly remark, how pretty, how cute, wao, it’s amazing et al; as if the product being shown to them is the only unique thing available, when in reality, it would have many twin brothers and sisters. Usually the damsel with a huge purse gets in with her husband who, within minutes into the shop, is relegated to the role of an approval machine. Every few moments, she would show him a thing and demand his opinion. All the husbands seem to respond mechanically and melancholily with words “Nice, “Good” …..well their vocabularies end there. The poor men keep looking at their watches and then look at the bill …howsoever huge the amount in there, they somehow always seem to be glad that the ordeal has ended.
This reminds me of the times when I used to go shopping with my parents. My father would inadvertently enter a book shoppe and ask my mother to meet him there after an hour or so when we had finished our buying works. My mother would always crib at his insensitivity. But aren’t all men insensitive to shopping? Is it not undoubtedly a feminine trait? Few months back Femina published shopping as its cover story advocating its advantages, tricks and pleasures. Was it required at all? Do females need an excuse to shop?
The most true saying I’ve ever heard is “A man will pay Rs.2 for a one rupee thing that he needs while a woman will pay Re.1 for a two rupee thing that she doesn’t need”. Well yes, this is another of her skills: Bargaining. Eating the shopkeeper’s head till he skews the price in her favour. Sales, discount fairs are all the tricks that make use of this psychological satisfaction of hers’. Once, a friend of mine confessed with pride that she can spend any amount of money in one evening. She further claimed, all that she’ll buy would be relevant. Now this is it: the confidence of having bought nothing that is a waste. Ah! I know you are eager to argue that relevant is a relative term. Ya it is! Thirty pairs of shoes already choking the racks and still the thirty first one acquired is a relevant purchase! Well yes it is, only if you are a woman!
Fine now, enough of poking fun at the feminine craze of spending. But hey what else would men earn for if the ladies won’t disburse? Imagine your house and yourself looking stale in all those old things if the women of your house stopped buying the new and trendy stuff? And above all, there would result an economic depression worse than the one facing America at the moment if SHE stopped filling in her space with all those current inventions. The revolutions that have led to cosmetics, fabrics, decoratives, foot wares, watches, even ties, suitcases…being produced with the latest techniques are all due to her. She deserves the credit not only for keeping your home updated but also giving a boon to the industrial revolution.
So the next time your better half asks you, “Darling, isn’t this sari great!” Jump with joy and tell her, you are great for whom it is made… buy it and rush out of the shop… into another mall. For, till there are women, there is pleasure in purchasing and making.
Women are really great. They will not disappoint you ... hey hold on...don’t assume this is going to be a feminist advocated view. Let me just complete the sentence: They will never disappoint you if you challenge them to spend huge amounts of money within minutes. They are innately blessed with this art of being able to shop shop and shop till they drop. With the festive season on and the shops decorated to attract the fairer sex especially, this is the perfect time to do a research on the ladies’ marketing strategies.
One thing that I often notice is the way they invade the shops and pleasantly remark, how pretty, how cute, wao, it’s amazing et al; as if the product being shown to them is the only unique thing available, when in reality, it would have many twin brothers and sisters. Usually the damsel with a huge purse gets in with her husband who, within minutes into the shop, is relegated to the role of an approval machine. Every few moments, she would show him a thing and demand his opinion. All the husbands seem to respond mechanically and melancholily with words “Nice, “Good” …..well their vocabularies end there. The poor men keep looking at their watches and then look at the bill …howsoever huge the amount in there, they somehow always seem to be glad that the ordeal has ended.
This reminds me of the times when I used to go shopping with my parents. My father would inadvertently enter a book shoppe and ask my mother to meet him there after an hour or so when we had finished our buying works. My mother would always crib at his insensitivity. But aren’t all men insensitive to shopping? Is it not undoubtedly a feminine trait? Few months back Femina published shopping as its cover story advocating its advantages, tricks and pleasures. Was it required at all? Do females need an excuse to shop?
The most true saying I’ve ever heard is “A man will pay Rs.2 for a one rupee thing that he needs while a woman will pay Re.1 for a two rupee thing that she doesn’t need”. Well yes, this is another of her skills: Bargaining. Eating the shopkeeper’s head till he skews the price in her favour. Sales, discount fairs are all the tricks that make use of this psychological satisfaction of hers’. Once, a friend of mine confessed with pride that she can spend any amount of money in one evening. She further claimed, all that she’ll buy would be relevant. Now this is it: the confidence of having bought nothing that is a waste. Ah! I know you are eager to argue that relevant is a relative term. Ya it is! Thirty pairs of shoes already choking the racks and still the thirty first one acquired is a relevant purchase! Well yes it is, only if you are a woman!
Fine now, enough of poking fun at the feminine craze of spending. But hey what else would men earn for if the ladies won’t disburse? Imagine your house and yourself looking stale in all those old things if the women of your house stopped buying the new and trendy stuff? And above all, there would result an economic depression worse than the one facing America at the moment if SHE stopped filling in her space with all those current inventions. The revolutions that have led to cosmetics, fabrics, decoratives, foot wares, watches, even ties, suitcases…being produced with the latest techniques are all due to her. She deserves the credit not only for keeping your home updated but also giving a boon to the industrial revolution.
So the next time your better half asks you, “Darling, isn’t this sari great!” Jump with joy and tell her, you are great for whom it is made… buy it and rush out of the shop… into another mall. For, till there are women, there is pleasure in purchasing and making.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Ask Me!! :)
Advice...advise...advice...
As a teacher, as an elder, as a sister, as myself..I am often asked for advice. Lucky me! Isn’t it? In this world where everything but an opinion costs, many are eager to and enthusiastically distribute the free dose of suggestions but rarely do they get audiences who are interested in grabbing the recommendations with the same zeal. Here I am, the ultimate counsel seeker. So let’s do it. Let me share some it with you too. Lucky you!
This is what I wish to tell all the youngsters seeking tips to live in this big world:
Always apply sun screen before you venture into the sun because the Ozone hole has made you more vulnerable to the ultra violet rays than the earlier generations. Turn off the tap while you brush your teeth to save water which might run dry by the time you get old if you continue wasting it at this pace. Ya, you will get old how so much you resent it so …live your youth to the fullest.. how? Wear nose rings and you may even pierce your belly button or print tattoos over your young body . The only caution – do it safely. Ya ya I am saying look into the mirror more often and click your pictures as much as you can because you would miss this face of yours once those wrinkles appear. Your these snaps will tell you that you were always more beautiful than you ever thought you were. And hey, sleep a lot and drink plenty of water to maintain this beauty. Jog, run, cycle, swim… do all this while your muscle power still exists. Now, with all this power, you might wish to rag your juniors or dance till you faint at the party. Go ahead do it. The latest music will not be latest any more so go catch it before it gets stale. Same goes for the latest books. Read them all till you can do so without the glasses for myopia. Hence go shopping for all the trendy stuff. Shop a lot and earn a lot to be able to buy that fifty ninth shirt and eighty fourth handbag. It’s good to flaunt all the good things. And the best possession that you have is your smile. Smile a lot, smile even as you look at that syringe while donating blood. Of course you will donate blood …afterall who can miss a chance to be a saviour..an angel without much effort. I am already sure that you switch off the lights and search the dustbin to throw that bubblegum wrapper. Afterall you love this earth and the electricity that runs your sweet Air Conditioner.
So my friends now you see why I am the much sought after advice seeker …well because I don’t give much of it. I speak so less. All that I ever say is have fun ..and lots of it.. Just don’t forget the sunscreen!
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Educate them...
MEDIA'S SOCIAL RESPONSIBILITY
Media- the fourth pillar of democracy suddenly seems to have assumed a commanding status, where it directs the public opinion rather than reflecting it. The agenda setting theory is working over time as to determining not only what to think about but also how to think about it. In such a scenario, the all pertinent media has a golden chance of moulding the public views in a constructive direction, of fulfilling its social responsibility.
However, this conscientiousness seems to have taken a back seat in the mad rush for TRPs, snatching audience, getting popular and earning huge bucks. Channels do not mind spending their airtime on Aishwarya’s marriage ceremony or Rakhi’s kiss controversy. Thousands of girls dumped by NRIs in the name of wedlock or men below poverty line devoid of even a one course meal are not worth being captured. A celebrity running over men on footpath rolls the press without giving heed to the fact that so many have no roof over their heads. Prince falling in a hole is shown 24 hours, without getting worried that the hole is 150m deep and still in no contact with the ground water.
All of a sudden, all the media- be it news, serials, songs, movies, stories seems to be talking of the rich and the contended. All the deals are 100 crores beyond and all the cars are Limousines. Public opinion is considered important for deciding winners in reality shows rather than national issues. No one talks of serving thy country or loving one’s neighbours. We are being taught to care about just ourselves and to thrive for more. There is nothing wrong in becoming selfish. Ah! What is this? With so many avenues and so much power with it, one would expect and want the media to create awareness about the social issues.
Media- the fourth pillar of democracy suddenly seems to have assumed a commanding status, where it directs the public opinion rather than reflecting it. The agenda setting theory is working over time as to determining not only what to think about but also how to think about it. In such a scenario, the all pertinent media has a golden chance of moulding the public views in a constructive direction, of fulfilling its social responsibility.
However, this conscientiousness seems to have taken a back seat in the mad rush for TRPs, snatching audience, getting popular and earning huge bucks. Channels do not mind spending their airtime on Aishwarya’s marriage ceremony or Rakhi’s kiss controversy. Thousands of girls dumped by NRIs in the name of wedlock or men below poverty line devoid of even a one course meal are not worth being captured. A celebrity running over men on footpath rolls the press without giving heed to the fact that so many have no roof over their heads. Prince falling in a hole is shown 24 hours, without getting worried that the hole is 150m deep and still in no contact with the ground water.
All of a sudden, all the media- be it news, serials, songs, movies, stories seems to be talking of the rich and the contended. All the deals are 100 crores beyond and all the cars are Limousines. Public opinion is considered important for deciding winners in reality shows rather than national issues. No one talks of serving thy country or loving one’s neighbours. We are being taught to care about just ourselves and to thrive for more. There is nothing wrong in becoming selfish. Ah! What is this? With so many avenues and so much power with it, one would expect and want the media to create awareness about the social issues.
Media can play a pivotal role in making the society a better place, citizens better humans and the country stronger. The issues may be as small as letting the people know that it is bad in the larger social interest to get water by submersible pumps and electricity by loud fuming generators, to tell them that the ground water and air and noise pollution is bad. They may be larger concerns like one ought to join the army for not only the government job perks but for the love of his nation.
There is dire necessity for media to understand its role and power to creating awareness about the social issues. Profits are important but educating a whole nation is also required. Television was incepted with an idea of educating and informing, radio had played its part in delivering many a coveted messages to its listeners and the printed word has helped us gain independence – creating awareness about the social issues and the sculpturing the public opinion have been the key duties. It's high time that the present day journalists too assume responsibility and pay heed to this significant task of fulfilling their social responsibilities.
Saturday, May 3, 2008
RELISH BEING YOURSELF!!
YOU ARE THE BLESSED ONE
How do you do? I am fine, thank you. Well this is how we have been taught to answer such questions pertaining to the inquiry about our health – mental or physical – alike. Well but what about the moments when one is feeling low as hell? Still the social norms would demand decent, well-type replies. Ok granted. Hey but, hold on. What about the times when you are feeling nice and great? Is it still unacceptable to admit it? To shout at the top of your voice and claim your share of feeling good, feeling better than just fine? Is it?
Well maybe people have not deliberated upon changing the fine to great because probably they have stopped feeling that way. Ah yes, this is the reason? This actually is. One comes across souls in human bodies dragging themselves through the journey called life that seems to be thrust upon them. It seems a compulsion than a choice. Is the scene really so bad? Do we have to treat life as just fine actually? I am amazed at times to see how rare a disease is happiness. When we have so much all around us to feel blessed with how do we fail to notice it? The nature abounds in all its beauty. If you go for a morning walk, the moist grass blades welcome you; the dew-wet flower petals swing happily in the morning breeze to greet you. The daybreak presents a sight that makes one wonder wao, all this magnificent show has been put up for me! The spectacle of a sunset in the evenings is no less intriguing. And when you have chance to witness the mountains or the wilderness during vacations trips you can not help wondering how blessed you are to be a part of all this beautiful opera.
Come on, all this always existed, the hard core pessimist in you is arguing- So what is so special to feel special about it? So you are craving for more reasons to be proved blessed. Don’t worry. I have innumerable ones. The nature seems to be at your feet, go to the wild, the country or the resorts where the brooks and the hills are man made, but well this does not make you happy. Maybe the huge concrete buildings do. The shopping malls, the glass office buildings, the accelerators, the eating joints that are so well architected and carved out marvelously to make man feel like a God. You are lucky to get a chance to pamper yourself in such environment and some one has been fortunate to have imagined and constructed them. Like Kira says it is so good that it appears man made. Or as Andrei remarks it is so well made it appears natural! So it is unto you to feel gifted to see anything that attracts you.
OK now let me take resort to the love and the attention you get. Your friends, siblings, parents, spouse, sons and daughters, colleagues, all make it a point to wish you on your birthday which mind you, is no achievement of yours. It is bound to occur year after year,still they make you feel special with surprise parties, gifts, phone calls, mails, messages, flower deliveries and even cooking your favourite dishes. WAO. Ah! You stubborn soul, you still see nothing special! Never mind. Remember the day you were feeling low and the vegetable vendor just smiled at you, and the evening you were cribbing about a bad haircut and a rag picker passed by with dirty hair and torn clothes. You sure thanked your stars, didn’t you?
Come on admit it now, from the morning sun that rises to greet you irrespective of whether you deserve it or not after your last day’s lazy activities to the cute moon that smiles at you, from the natural beauty to the man made constructions, from smiles by strangers to cheer up sessions by loved ones, from the beautiful mirror you have in your room to the smart watch you are wearing, you sure are blessed to have all this. And most blessed you are that you got a chance to read this case put up by me. Isn’t it? And now that you agree, may you always be blessed to realize your blessings. Ameen!
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
REMEMBER ONLY THE GOOD ONES.........
GIFT OF FOND MEMORIES
Selective hearing and selective seeing, perception and memory are the concepts I learnt in my Graduation Psychology classes. However, traveling down the life path, their role in the real life has become evident. I remember once in school, a farewell for a teacher whom we had never heard anyone praise but amazingly, everyone delivering the acknowledgment speeches could just not stop appreciating her and saying how good she was, how blessed we had been to have her. One of my friends commented that see how everyone is thinking only of the virtues that never were, I had replied then, but none of it is false. Well actually, none of it was. It was the first recognition of how we tend to choose what to store in our memory packets. As I have seen more of life and met more people, this belief has been proved beyond doubt.
While working, for instance, no one would sing praises for his boss. The boss is always a terror wished shot in all dreams. When in school, teachers appear to be strict authorities raveling in sadistic pleasures by scolding students and putting red marks on their notebooks. Some colleagues are our direct competitors and thus never praised even secretly. Siblings always fight is a universal truth and peer rivalries are no news. However after one leaves the organization, the things learnt from the high command are valued; as friends part after college and sisters get married to go to different homes, the love abounds. One may behave like cats and dogs with ones brothers but as they go to hostels they remember each other fondly.
I for myself remember how we got crazy getting slam books filled by our classmates when the sudden realization came that we are going to lose our friends of twelve years after the boards. All of us wrote pleasantly irrespective of the relations we had shared. Some were dear friends and others were just classmates. Some were bonded by cutthroat competition and others were deadly enemies over a common crush or in the race for being elected the House Captain. But when the time came to say goodbyes, they were not only meant in good taste but also said with teary eyes. Over the years, we have met at alumni meets and felt nostalgic over the fond memories that bind us.
Last week I was part of the farewell bade to their seniors by the first year batch of my students. I had never thought very highly of this batch since I joined them half a year back. To my amazement, I found myself buying little gifts for all of them and spending the night, etching titles for the students I had marked out as most dumb in my book. To my astonishment what I remembered was their strengths, their sweet naughtiness and how wonderful they had been. My speech had affectionate lines about how lovable each of them was and it all came naturally with my throat chocking over the words that described how much I will miss them and how adorable and unforgettable they had all been.
Isn’t it a unique human trait?
When we part, depart or lose someone all that we tend to remember is the sweetness of the acquaintance. Isn’t it wonderful that what remains with you all your life is only the positive experiences you have had in a relationship? All that you would sit back and look at when you draw the curtains of nostalgia are happy moments, all that crawls up when you walk down the memory lane are heartening reminisces.
One only carries the good with oneself sifting the bad and piling it away in unforgettable boxes. Isn’t it a boon of selective memory that we humans are blessed with?
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Are you the Right Parent?
PARENINTG IS A BIG RESPONSIBILITY
Excuse my saying so, but not everyone who is a parent always deserves being one. We have training for everything in this world, for being a doctor, engineer, and teacher, even for plucking your eyebrow. You would go to the best of the professionals and tailors, but poor babies have no choice to be born to the best of the parents. Ah! What an allegation you would say, we are excellent parents; we give our kids all kinds of facilities and luxuries that we ourselves never had. But don’t you think there is much more involved in bringing up healthy citizens of the future world? Child rearing is a tight ropewalk and not every one does it perfectly.
Why are you getting to hear all this gyaan suddenly today? I happened to be a part of a National Seminar at Patiala last week; the topic was Media, Parents and Children. To my amazement everyone blamed the media for being too irresponsible in doling out all sorts of content to the impressionable minds. The youngsters were equally bashed for being materialistic, disobedient and non-respectful. What pinched me was the missing concern to the central link – the parents. It is always de stressing to shift the blame. A good defense mechanism to say that the films are violent, television infidel, internet porn, videogames defiant, comics uncultured, advertisements greed promoting, and the consumer to all this, the children bundles of tantrums. Great. If all that the idiot box churns out is crime stories, why don’t you keep your toddler away from it? Busy working guardians substitute it for a baby sitter and then resent it when their off springs turn couch potatoes. I have seen many parents with kids in laps claiming proudly, my baby is fond of Mallika Sherawat, he prefers Coke to water, she does not wink a lid till the TV plays in the background. Wonderful. Then the same people would come back with teenagers gone astray and ask with broken hearts, why did my child turn this way? Why don’t you ever ask yourself, what went wrong in my parenting? When as a counselor, I question them if they spend time with their child, they say yes we watch the Television together. Woo. That’s it. Not many parents realize that their role is much above providing the food, shelter and clothing. They have to teach their off springs to be media literate. Maybe it is wrong to blame them entirely. They at times don’t know what to do and how to do it.
Let me briefly orient you towards the needed practices. To control the time spent in front of the tube you may resort to solutions like diary keeping, covering the TV, having a TV free family night, giving interesting alternatives to the kids, playing carem or Antrakshari with them instead or even pushing the box out of your homes. Healthy Internet habits may be cultivated by keeping the computer in a common place, becoming partners in the usage, not leaving gaps in knowledge that you child feels tempted to know from the web. You must always prescreen what your child is reading or watching. Clean their room off the violent games, cards or Cds. After all you are the parent and you are expected to know better. But, this does not give you the green signal for being autocratic. There are various parenting styles and research shows that nagging and even over caring parents rear defiant and indecisive kids. Help your child sift through the media content, aid him in developing the understanding of what to do and what not to practice. If the child is made a party to the decision making process and taught the pros and cones, he is likely to form into a well informed person who can decipher right from wrong. Don’t just snatch away the Naagraaj comic, put a good book in their hands as a better substitute. Give them options to develop more healthy interest and better habits.
Parenting afterall is a big responsibility and the trick lies in knowing the correct ways to nurture the angels the God has blessed you with. Next time before you blame the little ones, spare a minute to give a thought to your own way of rearing them.
Its that Time of the Year Again!!
WHEN EXAMS ATE THEM UP
“Study to be quiet, and to do your own business”, says the Bible but suddenly everything is so quiet that I am somehow not relishing it. The date sheet is just out and the stress has started building up. The smiles have abruptly vanished from the bubbly faces. The chirpy have turned gloomy and the naughtiness has flow out of the window. Out of the blue, my phone rung at eleven last night. The number reflected that of one of my students. What could have gone wrong were the anxious thoughts racing my mind while I approached the receiver. The voice on the other end was a tense version of a usually cheerful Neha. The tiny black words in the thick books were frightening her. Ma’m what do we mean by this and by that…how do we calculate the percentages of respondents, she was enquiring and I was thinking, what have these approaching exams done to the jovial lot of my pupils!
I am juggling with counseling the examination phobic, time tabling the late risers and offering tissues to dry the flowing eyes. Soothing the stressed souls is my major employment these days as the monstrous papers are nearing, but even their bodies appear tattered and creased out. What do I mean by this? You have to look at them to know this. Bright dresses have turned to plain attires, hairdos are invisible under oiled tresses, contacts have vanished and spectacles surfaced, heels are now converted to floaters and prompt replies to mourned sighs. This is the sight I dread the most, but have to face every year at this time.
While I was a student, I did not notice how the world of everyone turns topsy turvy during the pre test days. I fancied only myself being crushed by the cruel demons. Now that I am an onlooker, I can see objectively how these devils grab everyone in their claws.
I know they would be recovered in a month but for now, our to-be-examinees have been gobbled down by the exam phobia and ironically we are liking and despising it at the same time.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
IT'S TIME TO ENJOY :)
FESTIVITIES BRING LIFE
"India is the land of festivals, write an essay on this topic”, Ah, what are you thinking, this was my class six holidays homework! ye hi na? Yes it was. And what did you do then to finish it off? Copied it, pasted it, got it dictated, tried writing it….just finished it off. Right?
Today we are not given any such topics to write essays on but life has taught us that Indian festivals are much more than pieces of literary composition or red marks on the calendar. They are the method of telling us that life is way above the toiling activity that we have made it to be. These are diversions from the mundane daily chores that we assume is life. They give us an opportunity to live than to exist. Rushing to work early in the morning we just manage to smile at the neighbourhood aunt or wave at the friend next door. We go to corporate dinners but are too buys to invite friends over for a tete a tete. Day after day passes and converts to months, years and decades. A gray hair or a new developed wrinkle makes us realize how time has flown and how much we have missed. One fine day we grow old, retire and realize: Shit, I did not relish what was to be enjoyed, I did not get naughty or childlike when it was time to be just myself! Is it? Do our lives actually get so prosaic? Hey, come on …of course they don’t!
Thanks to the festivals that give us a chance to do bizarre things like splash colour on one another and get weird under the effect of Bhaang. Some of them give us an opportunity to meet one and all on the pretext of sharing sweets or distributing savaiyaan, others let us dance to the beats of a dhol around the fire. We get an excuse to pamper ourselves by buying cosmetics and bangles for a festival and an occasion to squeeze our inner selves and do some daan on a particular date. The sun or the moon is worshipped and even the children and the husband made to feel special, the holy snan is valued and even the earthen lamps remembered after ages, we are fortunate to dance crazily with Daandiaas in hand and shout Ganpatti Morya loudest in a big mob. So much and much more.
The celebrations tell us that life is good, gala and worth the merrymaking. The jubilant atmosphere makes us realize that those around us, those who form our world share our joys. It tells us that it is wonderful and more beautiful when we all smile together, laugh in a group and act mad collectively. The carnival of cooperation is the feather in the cap of the tyohaars.
Well well, but all is not all that well with the recent trend of celebrations. The whole family gathers in front of the idiot box to witness the Star Plus Holi celebrations, to see what Kumkum is wearing to the Diwali party, to judge which couple featured best in the Karvachauth Antakshri. Is this why we have an off on these days? The Gujiya exchange has shrunk to sms forwarding. The new age woes of the fiesta days are many, but with Holi here, the mood is too jolly to dwell upon these dark sides. Let’s leave the sad part of the discussion for some other day, when there are no gala festivities round the corner. Hey but wait, in India, such a day would be tough, rather impossible to get. So, what is the worry! Let us get into the best of our dresses and pick our Pichkaris…only Gulal, did you say? Well well, as I already told you, these occasions bring out the mischievous kid in us…so be prepared for bhallas of bhaang and balloons flying down terraces…. Happy Holi. . . . . . . . . .Friday, March 14, 2008
Wonders of Reading
THE DELIGHT CALLED BOOKS
Books are a man’s best friends, is a saying we have all grown up on. The teacher told this in the class and Ma Pa repeated it at home. It probably took us a little of our own lives to realize the truth of the hackneyed idiom. The moment we were old enough to hold a pen in our yet forming thumbs, we scribbled at whatever we could lay our hands on - the wall, the table and important documents. The only books that we possessed when we entered school were those of alphabets and were very dear to us. Coloured pictures and lovely illustrations adorned the glossy pages. As we reached senior classes, syllabus mounted and the books became thicker with the word font becoming smaller. The charm flipped to tension of compulsory reading sessions and we hated them. Our text books were like demons and the thought that kept coming back to the mind was the absurdity of the idiom – Books are the best friends of man – we were more than ready to flip the word to enemy, monster, devil, scarecrow…. Ah! the futile world and its vague claims. And then one fine day, the gates of school library opened, some one gifted the well illustrated Panchtantra ki Kahaniyaan or Noddy on a birthday, suddenly friends brought Amar Chtra Katha comics hidden inside text books, the big book store at the mall seemed attractive, and the world changed.
Let me get personal from here on, my first memories of a book that Papa gifted me are that of the Three Little Pigs. It had huge pages full of attractive animations and a small sentence on each page that took the story forward. I was in KG and read the book with enthusiasm. Today I have grown from Misha to Aym Rand and on the way, passed milestones called the Pink Panther, Dada ka Chashma, Heidi, Arabian Nights, Gulliver’s Travels among may other wonderful experiences. Once caught reading comics of Chacha Chaudhary at age six, a harsh lecture by my father on the value of reading good books had to be faced. Till Class Seven, Enid Blyton was my favourite issued author from the school library. I was again strictly told that I had grown above the toy stories and should be venturing into Tagore and Prem Chand. Ah! What a blow upon a teenager’s inflated ego! I promptly got Prem Ashram issued. The text, the language and the issues were however too complex for my yet immature mind and the book got reissued in my name for three consecutive weeks. Then one Friday night, I read out all the pages mechanically when the librarian had warned me against further reissues. Honestly speaking, it was just an unthinking read with no understanding making its roads to my mind or heart. Books till then used to be a forced endeavor. It is a spectacle, how gradually I started loving and relishing them. Lok Kathayen, Fairy tales, legends, riddles gave way to short stories, classics, real life adventure accounts and then to award winning books. The craze mounted to such an extent that anything from a magazine in a barber shop to an envelope made of newspaper to the dusty library section of old editions of journals seemed adorable.
The habit of reading which my teachers and parents inculcated in me now seems to be the best thing that has happened to my life. While reading Guide, I could relate to each sigh of the protagonist, when experiencing Emma, I felt as if I were the soul in the character. Recently We the Living gave me life-cherishing moments. While I go through books, they take me to a different life. Sometimes the author transportes me to a ball room in medieval England (Pride and Prejudice) and at other moments, I am made to witness riots in Bangladesh (Lajja), I fly to the States (Namesake) in a moment and come to post partition India (Midnight’s Children) the other. The joys of reading can not be traded. One thing that I have come to know however is, it is a marvel reading a good writer but if you come across bad translations of a great work, you might end up losing the charm and interest for ever.
Books, I can vouch with all my life’s experience, are a man’s best friends. The responsibility is upon us to take the youngsters through their journey in a healthy fashion. I am glad, I was guided well.
Books are a man’s best friends, is a saying we have all grown up on. The teacher told this in the class and Ma Pa repeated it at home. It probably took us a little of our own lives to realize the truth of the hackneyed idiom. The moment we were old enough to hold a pen in our yet forming thumbs, we scribbled at whatever we could lay our hands on - the wall, the table and important documents. The only books that we possessed when we entered school were those of alphabets and were very dear to us. Coloured pictures and lovely illustrations adorned the glossy pages. As we reached senior classes, syllabus mounted and the books became thicker with the word font becoming smaller. The charm flipped to tension of compulsory reading sessions and we hated them. Our text books were like demons and the thought that kept coming back to the mind was the absurdity of the idiom – Books are the best friends of man – we were more than ready to flip the word to enemy, monster, devil, scarecrow…. Ah! the futile world and its vague claims. And then one fine day, the gates of school library opened, some one gifted the well illustrated Panchtantra ki Kahaniyaan or Noddy on a birthday, suddenly friends brought Amar Chtra Katha comics hidden inside text books, the big book store at the mall seemed attractive, and the world changed.
Let me get personal from here on, my first memories of a book that Papa gifted me are that of the Three Little Pigs. It had huge pages full of attractive animations and a small sentence on each page that took the story forward. I was in KG and read the book with enthusiasm. Today I have grown from Misha to Aym Rand and on the way, passed milestones called the Pink Panther, Dada ka Chashma, Heidi, Arabian Nights, Gulliver’s Travels among may other wonderful experiences. Once caught reading comics of Chacha Chaudhary at age six, a harsh lecture by my father on the value of reading good books had to be faced. Till Class Seven, Enid Blyton was my favourite issued author from the school library. I was again strictly told that I had grown above the toy stories and should be venturing into Tagore and Prem Chand. Ah! What a blow upon a teenager’s inflated ego! I promptly got Prem Ashram issued. The text, the language and the issues were however too complex for my yet immature mind and the book got reissued in my name for three consecutive weeks. Then one Friday night, I read out all the pages mechanically when the librarian had warned me against further reissues. Honestly speaking, it was just an unthinking read with no understanding making its roads to my mind or heart. Books till then used to be a forced endeavor. It is a spectacle, how gradually I started loving and relishing them. Lok Kathayen, Fairy tales, legends, riddles gave way to short stories, classics, real life adventure accounts and then to award winning books. The craze mounted to such an extent that anything from a magazine in a barber shop to an envelope made of newspaper to the dusty library section of old editions of journals seemed adorable.
The habit of reading which my teachers and parents inculcated in me now seems to be the best thing that has happened to my life. While reading Guide, I could relate to each sigh of the protagonist, when experiencing Emma, I felt as if I were the soul in the character. Recently We the Living gave me life-cherishing moments. While I go through books, they take me to a different life. Sometimes the author transportes me to a ball room in medieval England (Pride and Prejudice) and at other moments, I am made to witness riots in Bangladesh (Lajja), I fly to the States (Namesake) in a moment and come to post partition India (Midnight’s Children) the other. The joys of reading can not be traded. One thing that I have come to know however is, it is a marvel reading a good writer but if you come across bad translations of a great work, you might end up losing the charm and interest for ever.
Books, I can vouch with all my life’s experience, are a man’s best friends. The responsibility is upon us to take the youngsters through their journey in a healthy fashion. I am glad, I was guided well.
MINE IS ALL YOURS
PRIVATE IS NO MORE PERSONAL
Once upon a time people used to write letters. Friends would long for and feel glad to listen the post man’s cycle ringing. Then times changed and mails took over the letters. Beautiful envelopes and well-decorated and scented letter pads gave way to key clicks. Being in touch with the world around through exchange of emotions has till date remained the social animal’s dear habit. What has changed however, is the arena of this wish. It was considered a bad tradition to read some one’s letter. If a diary was lying on the table open and fluttering pages, still only an ill-mannered person would dare touch it. Ah, it is personal after all and it is therefore private, we were told. The moral classes at school and the conduct lessons at home hammered the basic code of ethics in our minds, which was topped by the diction of never to read anyone’s personal messages or mails.
These conventions remained the same as we progressed to mails at Yahoo or Rediff. The internet mail services gave us an option to keep a password which we did not share with anyone. It was a secret code like that to our ATMs and credit cards. One could write hundred mails a day and keep them all limited to exchange between himself and the mailed friend. There came chat rooms and they brought privacy to new heights. They were so private and exclusive that even your own identity could be kept only to yourself. The person chatting to you in a chat room would not necessarily know who you were if you wished to keep it surreptitious. Concealment was an asset we thought, that the web world has brought to us.
Then one fine day, Orkut was introduced and out went the hush-hush element. We would still keep passwords to our accounts but there was no need to be reserved. Orkut became immensely popular, so much so that it was awarded the MTV Youth Icon of 2006 recognition. Suddenly social networking sites mushroomed all over the net. Facebook et al became the order of the day. The charm? Well, you could chat to a Brazilian woman or court a beautiful girl and let all your friends see it. The sharing of personal mails and scraps, got the youth rolling. One’s scrapbook was visible to everyone. There were instances when one had not seen his own scraps but others had. My, my! what an intrusion to one’s personal life and private space! Ah, give me a break… this is the in thing. Personal becoming pubic is the latest trend. Enhancements in the site features have provided options like locking one’s scrapbook, album or videos, but hardy ten percent of the users do that. It is fun to let the world get acquainted with you. It is cool if the whole planet, even those who do not know you can see what you did last summer and experience your birthday party. My favourie songs and my description about myself is for you to relish. What I feel, I now write on a blog rather that a personal diary (I just remembered, lock coded diaries were a fag during my schooldays), but now I don’t even latch it. I am not deliberating upon this trend being a healthy one or if the youth is inviting danger by becoming so open and available. All that I am observing is the possibility and acceptance of publication of private lives and conversations, of personal incidents and emotions. Maybe this is the concept of globalised lives that we dreamt of.
Once upon a time people used to write letters. Friends would long for and feel glad to listen the post man’s cycle ringing. Then times changed and mails took over the letters. Beautiful envelopes and well-decorated and scented letter pads gave way to key clicks. Being in touch with the world around through exchange of emotions has till date remained the social animal’s dear habit. What has changed however, is the arena of this wish. It was considered a bad tradition to read some one’s letter. If a diary was lying on the table open and fluttering pages, still only an ill-mannered person would dare touch it. Ah, it is personal after all and it is therefore private, we were told. The moral classes at school and the conduct lessons at home hammered the basic code of ethics in our minds, which was topped by the diction of never to read anyone’s personal messages or mails.
These conventions remained the same as we progressed to mails at Yahoo or Rediff. The internet mail services gave us an option to keep a password which we did not share with anyone. It was a secret code like that to our ATMs and credit cards. One could write hundred mails a day and keep them all limited to exchange between himself and the mailed friend. There came chat rooms and they brought privacy to new heights. They were so private and exclusive that even your own identity could be kept only to yourself. The person chatting to you in a chat room would not necessarily know who you were if you wished to keep it surreptitious. Concealment was an asset we thought, that the web world has brought to us.
Then one fine day, Orkut was introduced and out went the hush-hush element. We would still keep passwords to our accounts but there was no need to be reserved. Orkut became immensely popular, so much so that it was awarded the MTV Youth Icon of 2006 recognition. Suddenly social networking sites mushroomed all over the net. Facebook et al became the order of the day. The charm? Well, you could chat to a Brazilian woman or court a beautiful girl and let all your friends see it. The sharing of personal mails and scraps, got the youth rolling. One’s scrapbook was visible to everyone. There were instances when one had not seen his own scraps but others had. My, my! what an intrusion to one’s personal life and private space! Ah, give me a break… this is the in thing. Personal becoming pubic is the latest trend. Enhancements in the site features have provided options like locking one’s scrapbook, album or videos, but hardy ten percent of the users do that. It is fun to let the world get acquainted with you. It is cool if the whole planet, even those who do not know you can see what you did last summer and experience your birthday party. My favourie songs and my description about myself is for you to relish. What I feel, I now write on a blog rather that a personal diary (I just remembered, lock coded diaries were a fag during my schooldays), but now I don’t even latch it. I am not deliberating upon this trend being a healthy one or if the youth is inviting danger by becoming so open and available. All that I am observing is the possibility and acceptance of publication of private lives and conversations, of personal incidents and emotions. Maybe this is the concept of globalised lives that we dreamt of.
Friday, February 22, 2008
I DON'T UNDERSTAND YOU...
WHAT IS IT?
Love is omnipresent and timeless. But with Valenties’ Day round the corner, its value becomes all the more pertinent. Its’ expense is evident in the rose sticks becoming two and a half times their actual price. The gift galleries are crowded with youngsters vying to grasp the best gifts for their sweethearts. Numerous teenagers wait for the day to express their feelings of love to the ones who attract them.
Ah what a great deal of hallo boo this four letter word creates! But what is it? I mean what is love? Well, as far as I remember, it is the zero score in tennis. And an old archaic name for tomato. And it was also the name of one of the twin sons of Bhagwaan Rama.
Our dictionaries define the term in a scientific manner. As per Encyclopedia Britannica, love is an unselfish loyal and benevolent concern for the good of another: as (1) the fatherly concern of God for humankind (2) brotherly concern for others or it is a person's adoration of God. What?? Why give it so much of a spiritual angle, our Cupid struck youngsters would argue. However, even they would agree that this feeling is too wide to be restricted to any one relationship. We admire nature, adore our parents and teachers, are bonded to our siblings, feel an affinity towards our peers and friends, are attached to our pets, house, bike, car and even our clothes and jewellery. Do I dare call these feelings love? I think I can.
So that proves it, love is omnipresent and always in the air irrespective of what day of the year it is. Hey but let me warn you at this. Excess of everything is bad applies here too. Psychologists term abnormal love of a son to his mother as Electra Complex and that of a daughter towards her father as Oedipus Complex. Moreover if you are a teenage collegiate, inappropriate expression of the feeling can even result in distortion of the face and falling of the teeth.
Even after so much of deliberation over its meaning, I am still confused about it. The zero tennis score or the old tomato or the valentine day special attraction…..what is it? What is it?
GOOD SOULS LIVE HERE.....
THE ANGEL IS ONE WITH HEAVEN
Baba Amte, a man of our century who dedicated his life of almost a century to the society is no more amongst us. His departure brings pain but his life has been an inspiration to many. Since we were kids we have been hearing stories about a saint who can not stand on his feet due to a physical ailment but is serving the ailing society.
Those with physical sickness were his concern but so was the mentally deteriorated society that treated them as untouchables. It was the time when leprosy was a taboo and the ones suffering with the disorder were treated as sinners. Those around them, even their own family would not touch or keep them in the house. When the disease prone had no hope left, a light from heaven in form of Baba Amte met them.
Baba Amte borm on December 26. 1914 as Murlidhar Devidas Amte was a respected Indian social activist. He was the founder of several ashrams and communities for the service of leprosy patients and other marginalized people that were shunned by society. Anandwan (literally, "Forest of Joy"), located in the remote and economically less privileged district of Chandrapur Maharashtra is the most well known amongst them and was his home. Baba's thoughts are well conveyed from the words he used describe himself to British journalist Graham Turner “I don't want to be a great leader, I want to be a man who goes around with a little oil can and when he sees a breakdown offers his help. To me, the man who does that is greater than any holy man in saffron-colored robes. The mechanic with the oilcan, that is my ideal in life.”
In 1946, Baba got married to Sadhana Guleshastri, who was later referred to by community members Tai, Baba and Sadhanatai have two sons, Vikas and Prakash, both of whom are doctors. Both have dedicated their lives to social work and causes similar to those of their parents. It is rare to find an example where the kids also follow in the foot steps of their selfless parents. Having facilities to enjoy a rich life and still sacrificing it needs guts more strong than those of saints. Baba Amte dedicated his life to various other social causes, notably wildlife preservation and his involvement in Narmada Bachao Andolan. His achievements have this addition of rearing his children in a manner that they not only adored their parents’ instincts but even followed them.
Trained in law, Baba Amte had a lucrative practice at Wardha. It was then that Baba got involved in Indian freedom struggle and started acting as a defence lawyer for leaders imprisoned in the 1942 Quit India movement. Baba was deeply influenced by Mahatma Gandhi, with whom he spent sometime in Sewagram Ashram. Baba was follower of Gandhisim for his entire life. He practiced various aspects of Gandhism including weaving and wearing khadi, dedicating his life to the cause of upliftment of the downtrodden classes of society.
His life was dedicated to the socially neglected. He was their guardian angel, a father who gave them a family of brothers and sisters who shared a bond of suffering and understanding.
Baba Amte had not been keeping well for several years in his later life. In 2007, he was diagnosed with leukemia.
Baba Amte passed away in Anandwan on February 9th, 2008 at 4.15 am. He was 93.
His chronological age however is a petite measure of his real worth. The lives of the countless mortals that he made worth living is an addition to the memories that the world will hold of their loving Baba. Such angels are rearely sent to earth- and when they are, they make it a better place to live in. If there is any heaven then it is here, where such cherubs come and spread light and warmth.
The demise of his body further strengthens the belief that there is one more eternal home out there where such heavenly souls go. The Baba made this earth paradise and now this God’s messenger has become one with the supreme being.
Monday, February 4, 2008
GODS TOO HAVE HUMAN LIMITATIONS
Even Bapu could Not Please Everyone
The lessons in non violence that India so proudly practices till date were learnt from none other than a fragile half clad man. Fragile he was, but only in appearance, his soul was strong and willed.
There was a time in our nation’s history when to have our own governance in our own land, we had to fight. We had been struggling for decades and decades to throw the British out of our land and take the reins of governance in our hands. There had emerged leaders and laymen with zeal and determination. Still something was lacking. What was it? The thing most needed was the support of the public, a revolution in which each and every person could contribute and participate, to bring together all from varied walks of life.
This initiative came with Mohandass Karamchand Gandhi-a foreign educated advocate who learnt the lessons of life and unity the tough way. From raising voice against racial discrimination to protesting for Sampurna Swaraj, he treaded the paths bare footed. His protest were however different. Asking the Indians to make their own cloth with Charkha to using the salt made from their own seas to boycotting foreign products to disobeying the ruthless ruler, he did it all ..and did it all without picking up even a stick. What was unique about this feeble looking man was his appeal. The mass followed him. The mob obeyed him. The violent groups heard him and threw their weapons. When the nation burnt with fury of wrath and communal riots, the Mahatma had only to say he would fast till all this ended, and amazingly it all would end. Religions, regions, castes, genders, stopped having meaning when Bapu appealed. His non violence, truth, equality for all – were simple words but required a lot of mettle to be followed. Gandhi was a leader who practiced rather then preached. As he did, his disciples followed. And the disciples were not a limited bunch; they were the whole of India and even abroad.
Many credit Gandhiji for getting India its independence. Though, many other leaders had been practicing their own beliefs and methods to get the nation free, Gandhi’s victory lies in gathering the public together. Even the weakest of the people could contribute to the mass moments that he started.
After India got independence in August 1947, everyone was busy in the task of nurturing the new born democracy, but a few months later a sever blow came. On 30th January.1948 Bapu was assassinated. This was a shock for the nation described aptly in Nehru’s speech ‘The Light has Gone Out of Our lives’. The one thing that the bullet targeted at the most loved man of the nation proved was that even he had enemies. A saint who never harmed anyone, a leader whose praise fatigues none, a human par excellence who inspired the world, too had some who did not like his ways and their consequences. Does what one may one can never please everyone. Still adhering to what is correct not only for one’s own self but for one’s people is the way of life that the Father of our Nation- Bapu, Mahatma, Gandhi, Sabatmati ka Sant has taught us.
He has laid out a path for us to follow. May we not get weakened during the journey through which He would always guide us.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
CHARM OF BEING A TEACHER
THE CHARMS OF TEACHING
Back in school, we used to admire some of our teachers, adore some and cook names for yet others.
In Nursery, when I entered the school to be introduced to my first ever formal instructor, she became my guardian angel- ma’m would make me eat my lunch, see to it that I slept in the half time, that I boarded the school bus safely, made sure that I learnt all my alphabets and even sooth me when I came weeping to school the first day. I called her Aruna ma’m and thought see looked like a Barbie. Then I was put to another class and in the arms of another caring fairy. Gradually we had different teachers for different subjects. If Papa said a sum was to be done with a certain method, I would argue sentimentally that my Sir had told it the other way round. If Mummy advised to apply Boroline in winters, I would say my Ma’m has told to rub Vaseline. Such is the aura of teachers on school kids. Such is the respect, the love, the status, the greatness that they associate with their sirs and madams.
This never fades away though it takes other directions. Keeping nick names for them like Kaddu, Colgate et al is a treat that all secondary schoolers engage in.
The irony however is , that though we all think so highly of the Guru and as a kid might say that we wish to be one when we grow up, but when the time comes for choosing careers, hardly any one thinks of taking it up. Doing B.Ed is the in thing these days. Teaching is thought to be the most suited profession for females owing to their innumerous household responsibilities. But there is another reason for ladies being the best teachers. The compassion and the tenderness needed to be an empathetic and loving mentor comes naturally to the fairer sex. Anyway we are not here to advocate feminist spheres but to share the joys that being teachers has provided to our lives.
I entered this profession amidst a lot of resistance from my family and friends as it is a less paying job and paradoxically the grounds of vidya and their workers are not looked up with respects of the past. You are jeopardizing your career, this is a regressive move etc etc is all that I got to hear. But do I regret my decision?
Not at all. The reasons? Well, it is a wonderful job. The joys and the charms are incomparable. Tendering little kids is unparalleled but taking the grown up ones to the right directions is no less thrilling. The kicks which you get answering curious questions in the class, the love that you feel when a teenager sheepishly touches your feet, the emotions that overpower you when an appreciative smile is thrown your way are are ,…. Well, I am choked out of words.
There are enough gems in this profession to make you rich. The salary - less they say - is just an added advantage. The cherry on the cake is to see your students of today become respected citizens of tomorrow. The values that a teacher can inculcate in his students makes him feel immensely powerful. Be a teacher and feel the power, the strength, the thrill the joy, the charm…it is a WAO profession.
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
SERVING THY NATION
LET'S PLAY OUR PART
We are Indians and we are proud to be so. This is what we all say and even believe. But what do we do to actually feel good about the nation we live in? Watch patriotic movies, sing Desh Bhakti songs, paint our faces in tricolour when India is winning against Australia, cheer when Bharat goes to Olympics, buy tickets for Rang De Basanti, clap when some one hums ‘Ye Desh hai Veer Jawano Ka’ and ..and … what else do we do?
Well let’s see; we throw mungfali shells and orange peels on the street from the bus window, spit on the road as we walk past, feel proud that our jeans is a foreign brand, wish to celebrate our honeymoons abroad, flaunt our English pronunciation, put Kundis on our electricity meters, search for a jack if we are appearing for an interview, evade taxes, show wrong incomes, get fake birth certificates made, and never miss a chance to utter in a derogatory manner: ‘ye India hai’.
Whenever I hear my peers say ‘Is Desh ka kuchh nahi ho sakta’ I get a feeling to ask, what have you done to make things happen. And at times I do ask and the responses I get have more or less been the same always. People have arguments like what can I do. I can’t change the whole system. It is all a nexus. Everyone is corrupt etc etc. I have often wondered and sifted out the mettle in such opinions. If I can’t fight the system is it best to be a part of it? If I can’t see any one getting a fair selection is it justified to offer bribes for my work as well? If three people are corrupt is it fine to make the count to four? If the road is dirty do I get all rights to add to that pile of crap? If some one in the exam is cheating will I get the satisfaction by following the example?
All this makes me wonder what happened to the moral science lessons we were taught in Class IV! What went wrong with the ideologies that our parents tried to instill in their kids! It seems that somewhere while trying to fend for ourselves, while attempting to earn a living, lead a life, make a name, get our due in the society, we have left our nation behind. We criticize our government, the authorities and our nation and even feel proud of the process. We put the blame on others and feel glad that ah I am not a part of it. It’s time we question ourselves and ask do I actually not share the blame for all this?
When I sat back and enjoyed the Chhuti that meant me to go out and vote, did I not become a part in election of the bad government? When I carelessly dropped my toffee wrapper on the ground did I not add to the garbage?
If we all ponder over and refrain from these little day today natural behaviors we may actually be serving our country without even joining the defense forces. This New Year let our resolution be for our nation. And my Hindustan does not ask of any great sacrifices from you. Vote, use the dustbin, no bribes, no ingenuine favors, sincerity in work, fair payment of bills - Just good thoughts and nice behaviors would make our nation proud of us
We are Indians and we are proud to be so. This is what we all say and even believe. But what do we do to actually feel good about the nation we live in? Watch patriotic movies, sing Desh Bhakti songs, paint our faces in tricolour when India is winning against Australia, cheer when Bharat goes to Olympics, buy tickets for Rang De Basanti, clap when some one hums ‘Ye Desh hai Veer Jawano Ka’ and ..and … what else do we do?
Well let’s see; we throw mungfali shells and orange peels on the street from the bus window, spit on the road as we walk past, feel proud that our jeans is a foreign brand, wish to celebrate our honeymoons abroad, flaunt our English pronunciation, put Kundis on our electricity meters, search for a jack if we are appearing for an interview, evade taxes, show wrong incomes, get fake birth certificates made, and never miss a chance to utter in a derogatory manner: ‘ye India hai’.
Whenever I hear my peers say ‘Is Desh ka kuchh nahi ho sakta’ I get a feeling to ask, what have you done to make things happen. And at times I do ask and the responses I get have more or less been the same always. People have arguments like what can I do. I can’t change the whole system. It is all a nexus. Everyone is corrupt etc etc. I have often wondered and sifted out the mettle in such opinions. If I can’t fight the system is it best to be a part of it? If I can’t see any one getting a fair selection is it justified to offer bribes for my work as well? If three people are corrupt is it fine to make the count to four? If the road is dirty do I get all rights to add to that pile of crap? If some one in the exam is cheating will I get the satisfaction by following the example?
All this makes me wonder what happened to the moral science lessons we were taught in Class IV! What went wrong with the ideologies that our parents tried to instill in their kids! It seems that somewhere while trying to fend for ourselves, while attempting to earn a living, lead a life, make a name, get our due in the society, we have left our nation behind. We criticize our government, the authorities and our nation and even feel proud of the process. We put the blame on others and feel glad that ah I am not a part of it. It’s time we question ourselves and ask do I actually not share the blame for all this?
When I sat back and enjoyed the Chhuti that meant me to go out and vote, did I not become a part in election of the bad government? When I carelessly dropped my toffee wrapper on the ground did I not add to the garbage?
If we all ponder over and refrain from these little day today natural behaviors we may actually be serving our country without even joining the defense forces. This New Year let our resolution be for our nation. And my Hindustan does not ask of any great sacrifices from you. Vote, use the dustbin, no bribes, no ingenuine favors, sincerity in work, fair payment of bills - Just good thoughts and nice behaviors would make our nation proud of us
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