Naari – The Woman

26-Nov

We Indians (and mostly I think “people” in general for that matter), have a way of relishing grief, cherishing sorrow. Especially when it is “other’s grief”, “someone else’s sorrow”! Pardon me if I sound stoic, but look at what word we spread around? Take daily newspapers, TV channels, magazines, the web – celebration of pain is everywhere.

Last year on 26-Nov there were about 10 people who came to India illegally, ripped our security networks, targeted our financial capital (amchi Mumbai) and tore apart the faith of 1,139,964,932 people in our own justice and protection system. Even now I shudder at the thought of those images on my television screen. Each minute was gruesome. It was hell while it lasted.

But heck, all that is over, isn’t it? Can we take the lesson, benefit from it and move on?

There was also one other side of that midnight – people from all over India were extremely courageous, helpful even to strangers, immensely close knit during those times. Tell me how many of us ever prayed for strangers, wished to God to help innocent souls, really really meant and *felt* sympathy towards fellow Indians before? During Kargil war? I would think so. May be.

But at other peaceful times we bicker amongst ourselves over which tenant gets to park the car in front of a three storey apartment or we gossip about movie-icons and cricket-stars or indulge similar kind of nonsensical pass-times. Do we really bond as “Indians” during those times?

Every country has good as well as bad things. Corruption, crime infest each society. But do we really want to let a handful of evil thinkers get the better of 1,139,964,932 ? Do we let them ruin our achievements, happiness, peace & all-the-little-things-that-matter-big? Have a gala time with free publicity at our expense? Make us forget our triumph over tragedy?

I would never want to do it. Why did we do the parades, light candle etc on the day it started? Why not commemorate the day we WON over them? Why not do something special for the dear ones of the victims and let them know that they have their countrymen with them (and I just don’t mean Govt. grants and stuff… )?

India should be (and definitely CAN be) a symbol of hope over despair, light over darkness, joy over sadness. It is OUR country, our beloved “Bharat-maataa”, so who else will take care of her, if not us?

Think not about what this country did for you, instead ponder over what YOU did for INDIA….!

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A big lesson from a small incident

The whole day was bad. I was convinced of it. I was a wannabe software engineer. I had 4 years of experience in various IT related fields. I had been a trainer, a project guide, a developer, and even a video editor in these 4 years. But all that had been “Once upon a time in Goa”. This was Bangalore and I still had to prove my worth to this electronic city.

 That day I had an appointment with CEO of a company. I wasn’t very keen on this job, but had agreed for the appointment when the HR person had called me. I didn’t think I would get many chances and whatever came my way, I had decided to go for it. During the 1 hr journey from Sheshadripuram to Airport Road, I talked myself into making a good impression, into using the chance even if it meant only to sustain out here. I knew only too well the reluctance of my parents to let me be on my own in this big city. Another 2 weeks and they would start asking me to come back. The thought of going back empty handed provided all the incentive (?!) needed to work hard over here.

Finally, I saw the familiar-by-now, Leela Palace and got down from the bus. Walking towards the office I said a silent prayer and asked God Almighty to give me what was best for everyone. Then there was a blur of activities and I found myself at the reception asking for the CEO, enquiring about my appointment with him. I was asked to take a seat, which I did and waited patiently. Minutes ticked by. My patience began wearing out.

After whole of 2 Hours, I saw a guy approach me. He asked, “What is the matter? Are you waiting for someone?” I answered, collecting all my sanity, begging myself to keep a cool head, “I have come to meet Mr. Shah. HR person has fixed our appointment. This is regarding the interview I have cleared and my posting in this organization.” Enquiring eyes almost mocked me as he said, “I am Shah, the CEO of this company. But I don’t remember anything about this appointment. Let me see…” With that he did a 180-degree turn and walked out. I hoped at least now I can speak to him and be done with it. I gathered my papers and almost perched at the edge of the sofa, ready to go. My surprise on knowing he was the CEO had saved me from bursting out at him, which, ironically, was to my advantage.

Another 5 minutes followed and then I was met by a young guy. He smiled at me, I smiled back. Almost hearing before he spoke, what I wanted to hear, “You may go in…” But no, that wasn’t what he was saying. He told me, “Sorry Ma’m. Sir is busy and cannot see you today. Our HR person will get in touch with you and let you know.” He couldn’t have cared less.

I thought of myself sitting nervously, worried about another interview which I had had to postpone because of this one. I thought of these people playing with someone else’s time, effort. That was the last straw. Something snapped inside me and I spoke in clear ringing voice, “How could you do that? It was Your HR person who asked me to come here, today. I was here before time, canceling other things for this one and now after so long you tell me to go away. Is this fair?” Futile words were exchanged and I walked back.

I felt all burnt out, cheated, betrayed and God-knows-what. I kept fretting over things, boiling blood while going over the same scenes again and again. I didn’t realize when I reached Shivajinagar and took another bus to my place. Crowded bus added to my dismay.

And then, something changed. A group of school kids entered the bus. People accommodated them. I guessed they were regulars on this bus. The driver seemed quite pally with them and some passengers too. I lost myself in their activities. So much that I almost forgot to notice that these were special kids. Challenged. Unable to communicate with language and words like us normal people. As this realization hit home, I was ashamed. Here was I: a healthy capable person, gifted by all the faculties and natural abilities. I could talk, communicate, reach out. Easily. And here were these kids: nature had cast them aside in many ways, normal things like speech which I took for granted, was a hurdle that lay in their path every moment of their life. They would be facing various types of treatments from other people, sympathy from grown-ups, ridicule from their healthy peers, may be even hate and contempt from some insensitive souls. But they had a gift of laughter about them, a survival kit of sunshine which they spread liberally.

More than anything any interview or the preparation there of has ever taught me, I learnt something that day. From these young ones. A line I had read somewhere flashed to my mind. “Be a sun beam. There are many people who are in need of one!!!” With a smile on my sweating face, I vowed to pursue this mission.

Note: This post was earlier posted on my old blog, “A mused mind”.

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Diwali – Nostalgia…

Diwali. The festival of lights. It’s that time of the year when everyone gets eager to celebrate, gets busy making preparations for enjoying the most widely celebrated festival in India. It’s also that time of the year when I get very nostalgic about my bygone years.

When I was a kid, Diwali mostly was an affair to meet people, make new friends, play with old friends and eat homemade stuff from all over my Nani’s (grandmother’s) village.

In Goa and in some parts of Maharashtra / Karnataka, Diwali is a festival celebrated to rejoice for Kanhaji’s victory over Narakasur (the demon who captured 1100 beautiful princesses and he was planning to slay them). We burn the idol of Narakasur and enact the victory of good over evil. This is a grand event with competitions held across villages for the best Narakasur idol etc, which runs throughout the night before Diwali. On the morning of Diwali, mom would wake us up while it was still almost dark (if we ever slept at all) and get us bathed with Utan (wonderful smelling ayurvedic powder mixed with oil and applied as a moisturizing body lotion). Then we would  go to the Tulasi Vrindavan in our garden and with the big tow of left foot burst “Karit”, a bitter fruit and taste its juice. Begin the festival this way signified that life may be bitter at times, but there are still reasons to celebrate.

We kids and the male members of household would go from one neighbor’s place to other visiting them, wishing them and eating pohe with them. Similarly they would come to our place.

Then the whole day would unfold with games we played with all the kids. Hide & seek, “Dongar ki Pani” (mountain or water) in temple courtyard. Or we just slept for a long time, lazed around, telling and listening to stories with cousins.

Evening would mean a time to show off all our paper lanterns, and paper based decorations. Everything we had been creating and sticking, hanging around the house and garden for days before Diwali. We would have pooja of Goddess Laxmi in our house and then light some crackers. Again, this pooja was an affair made grand by visiting neighbours and friends. I remember my Nani sending us kids with dishes she made and knew that someone in the village liked it. No matter what age or caste the village people belonged to.

All the celebration was centered around keeping your household sparkling clean, kitchen smelling mouth-wateringly wonderful, rooms full of lights, warmth and welcome for friends and people in the community. In general, the financially lower class people would be made to feel a part of the village community.

We didn’t have expensive gifts or crackers, nor ready made dresses and sweets. But these things-that-money-can-buy, didn’t count so much. Because we had love of our family and friends. Is it not how we should really celebrate our festivals? Liking people and using things (instead of the other way round)? Giving back to society and sharing instead of remaining simply a “grab-it-all, make-it-mine”?

Think about it….!

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