Pass or perish

Sometime back an iron rod fell on my toe. It was quite painful but there was no visible injuries. I have this penchant since childhood of ignoring injuries leading to various complications and last minute rush to hospitals. This time too I ignored the toe and the pain lessened in a few days. But my toe looked greenish blue and yesterday when I trimmed my toe nails, a gush of pus and blood came out from underneath the nail. It wouldn’t stop and every time I walked the nail would spurt some more liquidy stuff from the nail bed. The nail drained out and the then the needle like pain began. I finally showed it to my brother and he rushed me to hospital. I was taken into the Outpatient Ward and made to lie down.

There were other beds too in the ward cordoned off by curtains. In the next bed a lot of activity was going on. Nurses were rushing around. Since there was no one to attend to me, I lay there listening to the noise and sounds of the ward. Hospitals have always intimidated me and the reassuring sight of a doctor was always a welcome relief. But the doctors on duty were also busy attending to the patient in the next bed. From the conversation of the nurses I could make out that the patient had tried to commit suicide. The nurses worked very efficiently joking amongst themselves. There was no anxiety or tension in the room like they show in those American Medical Serials. The patient’s stomach was cleaned and she was stabilized. Her mom in Burqa hovered close by in shock. A young man with tears in his eyes kept coming in to check on the patient only to be shooed away.

By this time my brother panicked and came to see what the delay was all about. He was told to buy syringes and bandages and medicines and thought that it was something serious. Besides there was no one inside to advice him about me. He walked in to check on me and was relived to see me chatting with the nurse who was bandaging me. He was a little annoyed at the lack of information. That is when I told him of the suicide attemptee in the next bed. He parted the curtains and peeped in a saw a young girl. I saw her later and she looked like an angel sleeping on the hospital bed. She was frail and looked so cute and vulnerable. I couldn’t imagine why someone so young would want to end here life. Later my brother stuck up conversation with the men in the girl’s family and learnt that she had failed in her 12th standard exams.

As they wheeled me out I heard the doctor telling the family that they needed to find out what it was that the girl had ingested, which meant tests. I don’t know what happened after that.

A doctor who is a family friend tells us that for every reported suicide attempts there are several that go unreported. This year during school results time the cops were patrolling areas where students generally try to commit suicides. But they could not prevent the record number of suicides. Instead of patrolling lakes and railway lines and high rise buildings, wouldn’t it be more prudent to revise the education system that has long outlived it’s utility and is now putting a tremendous amount of pressure on the students?

Cancer on Earth

When you are in the company of people you have grown up with, you tend to speak without thinking. It is a level of comfort that makes you let your guard down and you make conversation with ease. It is a comfort level born of years being together. At my meeting with S, the heroine of my last post, S asked me casually, why every organism on Earth is important. She has put up with my impassioned talks on environment, wildlife protection for years. And she was also a willing volunteer when I had launched the “No plastics" month in college.

The conversation went something like this.

S: Why is every animal important for the environment?
Me: Every animal and living thing is placed by Nature for a purpose.
S: Even rats? ( she hates rats)
Me: Yes, even rats.
S: How can rats be useful to the environment?
Me: Well they are food for snakes, owls, vultures etc. A vulture is nature’s scavenger and because of vultures we don’t have pandemics. But alas their numbers are shrinking.
S: Even insects are important? (she is terrified of insects)
Me: Yes. Look the Earth is a healthy body. The environment and wild life and other life forms are its metabolism. It needs all these to function as a healthy body. Every thing on Earth is important except human beings. Humans are like a Cancer on the healthy body of Earth. I think, natural calamities are the Earth’s immune system keeping our numbers in check to protect it from being overwhelmed and destroyed. But I think Earth is losing the battle.

The conversation stopped and a comfortable silence fell between us. And then in tandem after a minute or two both of us looked at each other startled. And I suddenly realized what I had said, while S reeled from the import of what I had said. A broody silence again fell between us after that as we mulled over things. S finally giggled and said "Thank God, the Ransom Girls are not around. This would have been the drop of blood for the sharks."

Ransom Girls was a group in college diametrically opposite to our group. When I organized “No Plastics Month” they organized the “Plastic Awareness Month”. They put up posters describing the revolution bought about by plastics by making us less dependent on natural resources like wood, metal etc. The theme for their campaign “ Plastic satisfies your every need”. In retaliation we put up a poster on the Notice Board. I will leave you to guess the content of the poster. It was pulled down before the faculty arrived in the morning and put back during lunch break on the cafeteria walls. It left the Ransom Girls very red faced for a very long time to come.

Now why were they called Ransom Girls? That is something I shall not reveal. One of them blogs you see. I do not want a war developing here :p

Finally...I am now wondering uneasily if my remark that human beings are like cancerous organisms on Earth might be true. Forget what religion says about all of us being God’s children and being on earth for a purpose and all that jazz. On a baser level as animals we serve no purpose. We do not give to the Environment. We only take. I don’t see where we fit in the scheme of things. I have tried and tried to think of one use of humans on Earth and I find none.

Giggles from the past...

Thanks to incessant rains I am stuck in the house. So I thought I would pen down something about a friend I met yesterday. 'S' is one of my friends from school through college. A really sweet Gujju girl. S was the most innocent gal in our group and I frankly don’t know how she survived the wonder years with us. Most people in college thought she was the misfit in our group.

I remember a fashion show in college. S walked out to the catwalk carrying her saree dupatta in hand, sashaying languidly. The rest of us were waiting for our cue to walk out to the catwalk. Just when she was half way through her catwalk I whispered loudly in a theatrical whisper “hey your blouse is open at the back!!!”. S froze, fumbled for her saree dupatta , covered herself tightly without turning around and then ran to the back of the stage holding a hand over her mouth to suppress a scream. All of us collapsed laughing. Of course there was no problem with the blouse but then S was someone we loved to rag. She would end up giggling uncontrollably when she realized that she had been had. Never once did she get angry at our pranks.

Once on a summer hol trip to Kodai, S went to change her clothes in the cottage restroom. After waiting for 5 minutes, we all said loudly “S we can see you”. There was a piercing shriek from the toilet and S quickly wrapped herself with a towel and sat on the commode looking fearfully around for open windows or vents. Inspite of repeated assurances she refused to come out of the toilet. Finally she did come out after we had given her a bedsheet to cover herself. She changed after we had held a few bedhseet around her as she refused to go into the toilet. The whole thing boomeranged on us when S refused to go to the toilet after that and kept jumping up and down cos she wanted to pee really bad. Finally we had to conduct a live demo to show her that the toilet was safe and we were indeed joking.

Another time for my 21st birthday, we had a party at my house. My 21st birthday fell on a weekday and we had the party on a Friday night. S’s dad is a very strict man and disapproves of drinking and coming late etc. But then back then most of my friends parents thought I was a model friend to their daughters. I had this readymade angelic face you see :p Perfect foil for evil. S was given permission to come as it was my house.

This was the first time we all had Vodka as all of us were turning 21 that year. My brother M was the bar tender ( and supervisor as my parents were away for a wedding) and he made some wonderful but unknown to us, very low alcoholic content cocktails for us. S got slightly bold after she realized that she was quite fine after a Bloody Mary. So she had another and then another. By this time most of us were dancing to some loud music and garish home made disco lights courtesy M. No one noticed S steadily plowing through my drink and the other glasses scattered around various tables in the hall. By the time the party wound up she must have had some 6 small Vodkas (or more I dunno). She was very tipsy and was giggling like a Hyena at every thing we said.

Me: Looks like you had too much to drink tonight!
S: *giggle*
Nina: You better have some black coffee.
S: ha ha ha ha
Tia: Drink some water, you will feel much better.
S : Ahahahahahahahah hoo hoo hoo hee hee hee (rolling on the sofa )

We were in big trouble now. S had to return home as per orders. As we debated what to do, we heard S taking to someone on the phone. A dim wit friend of mine, Bhanu had convinced S to call her Mom and ask permission to stay back at my house. To her bad luck her Dad picked up the phone.

S: Hello
S’s Dad: Hello
S (cupping the mouthpiece and whispering to Bhanu): Oh my god it’s my dad
Bhanu: Put the phone down quick.
But S was already talking to her Dad in a fake voice.
S( trying hard not to slur): Mr Patel? Can I speak to you wife?

The genius thought that her Dad would not recognize her voice!

To cut the story short, I did manage to convince her Dad that she had just a bit of wine and she got permission to stay at my house.

S entertained us throughout our school and college days with her innocence and simplicity. Now she is getting married, to an equally sweet guy. I wish her the best and hope she keeps smiling and giggling through life like she always did.

Happy Mothers Day!

Happy Mother’s Day to all the mommies. My cousin sister in Bangalore called us up to wish my Mom and her sisters all of who are here for another Engagement. She made her little daughter wish me. It was so cute to hear her say "Happy Mothers Day chechi". I am her regular babysitter you see and it was very sweet of my cuz sis to do that. Before my cuz sis could put the receiver down I heard her daughter ask her why she should wish me for Mothers Day as I am not a mommy. That question bought a flood of memories and I am dedicating this post to a special person in my life, who was like a second mother to me throughout my growing years. And this person is my mom’s youngest sister Ann.

Ann is nearly 12 years younger to my mom and was ( and still is) a breathtaking beauty. All the girls in the family were famed for their beauty but Ann was the best. Poor thing was also born into an ultra orthodox Syrian Catholic family, which means she was berated if a guy even looked in her direction. She grew up never appreciating her own beauty and always felt it was her fault because someone made a remark about her good looks. Such remarks were construed as shameful and she would get a scolding. Good Syrian Catholic girls did not attract undue attention to themselves according to norms in those days.

Inspite of having the ‘handicap’ of being extremely beautiful, she was a happy go lucky gal, who was absolutely crazy about me. For Dassara and Christmas holidays, she would insist that I be sent to Kerala and I remember flying as an Unaccompanied Minor with Indian Airlines. (We get about 10 days for Dassara and X'mas)The joy of seeing her face among the sea of people waiting at the airport is indescribable. She would lift me up and refuse to put me down and then I was her daughter for the duration of the stay. She would jealously refuse even my Ammachi from taking me to church, or the chandha, the farmers market which I loved to attend. Neither would she leave my side for a minute.

People would tease her saying that now that I am home, Ann will ignore everybody or they would say “wait till she goes back, then you will have to talk to us”. She is a gifted artist and wrote small articles for Femina in the 70’s. On the insistence of my Mom and her other sister’s, my grandparents let her complete her MA. They were afraid to keep a beautiful daughter unwed at home for too long.

For her wedding I threw a tantrum and hated her husband at sight. I didn’t understand why she had to go away with some strange man . And my uncle understood my hostility and promised me at the reception that he would take good care of her. It took me many months to get over the hostility and talk to him. But he kept his promise and is a wonderful husband and Uncle to me. He is also my favorite Uncle because he is a birder like me and we have been to many expeditions together. Today he is taking me to a place where he has seen some rare birds. Their greatest regret…that they have only sons and no daughter. A fact that saddens her to this day. Sometimes she sighs and says, maybe it was her greed for a daughter that made God punish her.

If she did have a daughter then that little girl would have been the luckiest girl in the whole world to have her as a mother.

The Ladies of the Slum

Warning: Very long post.

There is a small slum next to Infant Jesus church. You will pass it on the way to Koramangala from M.G Road. Most of the domestic workers who work in M G Road, Brigade Road and surrounding areas reside here. A hut costs anything between Rs. 200 to Rs. 500 in rent. Many families share space to reduce rent.

The place is mostly populated by immigrants from Tamil Nadu who came here generations ago. Most of them don’t even remember the name of their ancestral village in TN. As you walk into the slum, you are struck by the cleanliness despite its drab appearance from the outside. The houses are small but very neat and clean. A Neem tree or two grow wherever a small patch of earth is left uncemented. Most of the houses have at least a pot with some ornamental plant on the roof or in front of the door. Possessions are kept to a bare minimum and the kitchen sparkles with clean and neatly arranged utensils. The kitchen is the pride of the lady of the houses even if the kitchen fires burn but rarely. Even the surrounding areas of the huts are clean. If you were to give your old stuff to these ladies they will sell it to the Marwari in exchange for a saree or a utensil.

These intrepid ladies are free from domestic work by afternoon. Most of them work in four or five houses. They leave home around 5:30 in the morning after getting the kids ready for school and walk to their places of work. They go to work neatly dressed, with a red pottu on the forehead and fresh jasmine flowers on their oiled hair. Their children go to school walking or by bus.

Most of them wear the wash n wear sarees. In fact if you were give them a Silk Saree they will exchange it for a wash n wear saree at the Marwari shop. On Sundays when they go to the temple or church they wear colorful sarees with a bit of gold work. The culture passed onto them from their ancestors remains intact. Their homes, food, festivals reflect their lifestyle of their village back home in TN. It’s like they live in a time warp.

The marwari is an important part of these people’s lives. They lend money, buy used household items that they get from the place of work and sell things at very reasonable rates to these people. Of course they are unscrupulous too.

Once the ladies get back from work, they cook the afternoon meal. Those who can afford will buy a bun in the morning, but most of these folks live on two meals a day. Their diet is simple, rice and dal and the leftovers they bring with them from work. Since the ladies are free most of the day, they sit around chatting and sweeping. They sweep their homes every hour or so. Which is why the slum is spick and span. Many hut owners have now made pucca houses. As you walk through the streets skirting goats and chickens, it is difficult to believe you are in the heart of Bangalore. The place looks like those small villages you pass by when driving out of the city.

Small shops border the slum. You get everything at dirt-cheap rates here. From Whitewash to used engine oil to cooking oil and provisions. These shops cater to the slum crowd and you will see some brands that you didn’t know existed. For an MTR Turmeric powder you have a Mary Turmeric powder or a Raja Chilli powder and Rani coconut oil. A peek into these small shops will give you a glimpse of a thriving parallel economy. The shelves are neatly arranged and the shopkeeper usually sits outside on a stool. On Thursdays after Mass at the Shrine, crowds of worshippers come to these shops and they do brisk business.

What strikes you most as you walk into the slum is the absence of men during daytime as most of them hold 9 to 5 jobs as construction workers, masons, car mechanics etc.

The air in the slum is one of quite contentment. However by 7 ‘0’ clock the calm is shattered as the men return, drunk. Then the air rends with the weeping and wailing of women getting beaten up and raucous fights. This goes on till the men fall into a stupor and calm returns to the slum. In the morning everything will be forgotten as husbands are expected to behave in such manner. The women are resigned to it besides the presence of a man in their life makes a lot of difference in a slum. She will have a certain social standing and escape the lustful gaze of other men.

I have been into this slum several times with my Mom. Most of the times it was to pull out a badly beaten up maid and take her to hospital. After we moved out of the city, I have lost contact with the ladies of the slum. I do not know how things are now, but whenever I pass by in the Auto, I see that nothing much has changed. The houses are still neat and clean and the village like atmosphere still prevails. I do hope that the lot of the ladies, who carried me around, combed my hair and tut tutted at my mom because she didn’t put the black dot on my face to ward off evil eyes, is better now.

Culture shock!

This incident happened two weeks back. I was sitting at my comp when my expat colleague W walked past and playfully pulled my pony tail. He would always say that it reminded him of the tails of the miniature horses in his farm back home. This particular day he stopped and asked me if I wasn’t fed up of the long hair and the maintenance that comes with it. He said girls in the US tried different kind of styles. Without thinking I told him "I would love to, but my Mom will kill me". A typical off the cuff remark from an Indian girl. W suddenly froze and seemed taken aback at what I had said. I felt a sinking feeling like when you realize that you have made an embarrassing slip of the tongue but you quite don’t know what. I desperately tried to remember what I had just said to him.

Flashes of an incident at my Induction came to my mind. Miss Nair joining as a CA in this company with me, standing at the podium answering questions thrown at her. When asked about her extra curricular activities she blurted out “ I am doing an Inter Course” ( the last two words were said together). There was pin drop silence as people froze and politely refrained from laughing till I burst into giggles. There were embarrassed half smiles from the guys in the audience and muffled and uneasy giggling from the gals. Miss Nair never realized what she had said and left the podium a little confused at the reaction of the audience.

Now I was sure I had committed a similar gaffe too. I blushed red. W, recovering from the shock drawled in his Texan drawl. ( I have never heard a Texan drawl but I guess his accent came close to what I thought was a drawl) “ Do you have to take permission from your mother to cut your hair??????” It suddenly dawned on me that for a Westerner like him this sounded ridiculous. I groaned inwardly. Far from presenting my country as a high tech destination I had in a single swoop reduced it to the land of the Maharaja’s, snake charmers and subservient daughters.

I tried my best to explain to him about the Indian family and respect for parents and Indian values etc. but I guess I was blabbering because W suddenly said “You know, there was this time I colored my hair and my mother threw a fit!” He was clearly throwing me a lifeline to pull my country and myself out of the hole I had dug it into. And I grabbed it gratefully. We chatted for a few minutes more.

Just then my colleague R who is expecting a baby walked past. I introduced her to W and told him “ Do you know she hasn’t told her mom she is expecting? Her mom will be very distressed if she comes to know that R is expecting another baby. She doesn’t want R to go through the trouble of raising another baby without any help!” W froze again taken aback at what I had just said.

We were back to square one.

The girly things in life...

Many summers ago my folks enrolled me for a Summer Camp. I was told that I would learn swimming, painting and that I will have loads of fun. Since my friend Rita too was joining I happily went along as there was still a week for school to start. I made loads of friends my pint size and among them was a boy who came to me and said shyly.


Him: I want to be your Boy Friend
Me: But we are friend’s naah!
Him: No, we will be Boy Friend and Girl Friend
Me: What does that mean?
Him: It means we will sit and have lunch together and
play together
Me: Ok

A few days later

Me: I wanna play with Rita
Him: No, you will only play with me.
Me: But I really wanna play with Rita
Him: No!!!!!
Me: Get lost!!!!!!!

BF bawled his head out and the Camp Conductor told me to shake hands and make up with my BF. I did shake hands and make up with him but refused to be his GF or whatever it was. This was circa early 90’s.

Nothing much has changed from the last century I see. Yesterday my friend fought with her BF and broke up because she wanted to hang out with us... our gang. He just doesn’t understand why she needs to be with her friends and needs her space. Men !!!!

Why are guys like this?

Little people

Deepa wrote a lovely post on the world of dreams that we retreat into when the real world gets too distressing to handle. She writes about a girl whose make believe world has two brothers. This was because she was an only child with very busy parents. I felt annoyed after reading this. I have always talked for and I will always talk for Children’s Rights. Children should have rights too even if they are minors. I am talking of the right to a childhood with the attention of parents the natural guardians and care takers for a child.

I heard a Priest tell my newly wed friend and his wife rather sermonizingly that as good Christian they should have children soon and that they should not deny life. I was furious. I wanted to tell the Priest that the good Lord who had made the Reproductive Organs had made the Brains too. So why should we use only the Reproductive Organs? I was hopping mad at the irresponsible statement.

It is not just this Priest, but also most busy young parents of today who are guilty for bringing children into the world just for the sake of it. They don't have the time or the help needed to bring up a child yet go ahead and have kids. (Here I am talking about educated people.)

As a detached observer I have always wondered about the exact reason people have children. Is it because they want a child as a token of their love that they want to cherish and bring up, or is it because it happens naturally after marriage or is it to continue the family name ?

When I see young parents dropping off kids to crèches and picking them late in the evening I feel an enormous amount of pity for these kids. They look lost, lonely, cranky and sometimes terribly quite after a day spent at the Crèche when they should ideally be spending the precious childhood with a family. Why should they suffer because the responsibility of carrying on the family name rests on their tender shoulders? Don’t they count as individuals? When will we have a voice or a law that will speak for the child?

There is a young couple in my neighborhood. Both work long hours and they have a 4-year-old daughter they leave with a lady who runs a Crèche. In the evening around 6 ‘o’ clock the mother comes and picks up the child. The child effectively gets about three hours time of ‘waking time’ at her ‘home’. During this time the mother is busy cooking.

Besides she is pregnant with another child.

When will this senseless reproduction stop?

May Day

Labor Day is a glorious holiday because your child will be going back to school the next day. It would have been called Independence Day, but that name was already taken.

-Bill Dodds

The news in black and white and colored

I was going through the weather forecast in the papers here. Nothing to write home about. But it reminded me of the weather forecasts that we get in Times of India (TOI) Bangalore.

On March 4th we had torrential rains for about two days, plunging the mercury down several degrees to the right side of a cool weather. I remember the article that came in TOI the next day.

"Mr. K from the Meterological Department confirmed that it rained in Bangalore yesterday. He predicts more rain in the next 24 hours."

It was cloudy and it didn’t take a weatherman to predict that it would rain, leave alone ‘confirm’ that it had rained.

However at the slightest change in weather, TOI will badger this poor man for news and he invariably ends up looking like a fool.

I remember a news item that came in TOI when Playwin was a big draw.

Family commits suicide due to Playwin!

Or something to that effect. The news went on to allege that the family had run into huge debts due to bulk purchase of Playwin tickets. The Playwin outlet was ransacked by angry crowds and the owner was in hiding for days till police restored normalcy. Deccan Herald later reported that the family was in debt due to a failed business transaction and that the suicide had nothing to do with Playwin.

However TOI continued it’s inflammatory reportage till failing circulation figures forced it to pull up it’s socks. TOI still has readers due to its glitz value but Deccan Herald has surprisingly held onto its subscribers and increased its circulation with a few changes, like the Metro section (which is an excellent read).

Then TOI started a Food Review section and my aunt believed one such review and went to the "Thattu Kada", an supposedly authentic mallu restaurant. The 'restaurant' turned out to be a garage and the food was the pits. The naadan fish curry turned out to be fish boiled in water and tomato sauce thickened with cornflour. She wrote an angry mail to the reviewer, who merely added a "disclaimer" to her reviews after that. Deccan's food reviews on the other hand is very reliable.

This reminds me of the lament of PR people...that unless you invite a reporter and the photographer for do's they will not report. And Press people are the worst behaved at Event Luncheons and Dinners. For a Golf tournament in which my Dad participated , the Press people literally blockaded the Cocktail counter, not allowing even players to have a drink. In fact I have coined a term for them "Professional party goers".

There was a time we took two copies of TOI and still fought over who got to read it. Nowadays the sole copy of TOI lies unread. Namma Deccan Herald is the chosen one, at least in my family.

Moral of the story? When in Bengaluru do as the Bengaluru jana do.

The step children boom of the Indian Economy

Yesterday we landed in Delhi around 9:15 pm. Indian Airlines was as usual spot on time in being late. My uncle, a General in the army came to pick us up and I thought some Minister or some such celebrity had arrived looking at the bundobast. A Car, a Jeep and another vehicle with some stiff looking soldiers who carried our bags and stuff. What a ride in the Flag Car. We felt like royalty!!! We reached his huge bungalow around 10 where the bachelor party for his son, my cousin brother was just about stirring to life. A quick change and I was met with a colorful sea of people in the lawns. I have been to lots of Army parties so knew what to expect. Uniformed waiters who arrive at our side the moment your glass in empty, lovely arrangements. Since it was a bachelor party the dress code was informal. I really missed my Tee that I had left back home. It had a nice caption “ Single and not ready to mingle” ;)

Heard about the Pramod Mahajan episode at the party. Was relieved to hear that it was his own brother and not some terrorist. Relieved because if it was a terrorist then we would have a situation like after Raj Kumar’s or IG’s death in our hands. The Raj Kumar episode was dissected in the media and one speaker attributed it to the growing divide between the haves and the have-nots. I do not necessary agree with this view because the people who took to the streets were opportunists waiting for an excuse to have fun.

But I now realize that the so-called rapid development the country is experiencing is benefiting the rich and the educated middle class only. There is still a huge sector apart from IT that still needs to develop in order to absorb the non IT people into the development mainstream.

I guess if I was one of them I too would resent the opportunities and benefits some sections are enjoying while I had no scope for such jobs because my qualification is useless for the IT sector. And it is these people who vote for Communists. I saw Achudanandan speaking to the media yesterday and he scoffed the ‘so-called-development agenda’ of the Congress. Suddenly it fell into place. There is a huge sea of people out there that are damn scared. Their skills are no longer relevant in the IT centric economy. They fear the development, which they feel, will benefit the IT sector only. And it is this fear that makes them vote for people like Achudanandan. They need someone to protect their jobs and look out for them too. And they look at ‘development’ as a phenomenon that will make them redundant.

(Addendum) Look at my own seniors in college. Of the girls who passed out with an English degree only 15 % of are employed in the IT sector. And that’s because they can understand technology and can communicate the same in simple language to customers, stake holders, media etc. The rest are either struggling are junior journos or as magazine writers or copy writers. These girls are the perfect example of the many people who have not benefited by the IT boom.

I think the government must make sure that the generation that was unable to board the IT bus do not feel marginalized. When opportunities exist for everyone, real development will take place. For once I sympathize with a huge demography of people who feel resentment for the sunshine children, ie the techies and support services that revolve around IT.

Just a thought of a very inexperienced political commentor :p Please don't throw brick bats at me :))

Simla ahoy!

Tagged

I have been Tagged by Venus. Here goes...

1.Grab the book nearest to you, turn on page 18 and find line 4.

In adition, inside the Aviation Articles section of the Library & Help, you’ll find avaiation articles contributed by AOPA (the Aircraft Owner’s and Pilots Association) ( aargh this my brother’s Flight Simulator manual!!)

2.Stretch your left arm out as far as you can.

My hand is joyfully licked by my doggie, I have doggie drool on my fingers now!

3. What is the last thing you watched on TV?

F.R.I.E.N.D.S, NDTV News, MTV and the clock on the TV

4.Without looking, guess what time it is?

7:30

5. Now look at the clock, what is the actual time?

7:38 pm

6. With the exception of the computer, what can you hear?

Myself humming ‘the last waltz’ ( it sort of got stuck after the comment on mind curry’s tag) and the tap tap of the keyboard as I type this tag.

7. When did you last step outside? What were you doing?

Half an hour ago. Let my dogs out for their pee pee session.

8. Before you started this survey, what did you look at?

My mail box

9. What are you wearing?

Bermuda’s and Tee

10. Did you dream last night?

Yes.

11. When did you last laugh?

Half an hour or so ago when I got this this in the mail.

Howlarious.

Warning : Men click link with care.

12. What is on the walls of the room you are in?

An LG A/C, a picture of Our Lady and baby Jesus , a clock, a framed certificate I got from WWF, a poster that says “Avoid hangover, Stay Stoned” and a handmade wall hanging.

13. Seen anything weird lately?

Yes, myself in a mirror :p

14. What do you think of this quiz?

Made me notice what I usually overlooked

15. What is the last film you saw?

Something on Star Movies

16. If you became a multimillionaire overnight, what would you buy?

A house in Ooty and the best camera and binoculors in the world to lead the rest of my life bird watching ( the feathered kind guys) and in Wild Life Conservation.

17. Tell me something about you that I dunno.

I fell down from the terrace as a toddler and landed on the window roof safe and sound.

18. If you could change one thing about the world, regardless of guilt or politics, what would you do?

Restore the forests.

19. Do you like to dance?

I love to dance provided my partner is as good as me.

20. George Bush.

Spoilt Brat

21. Imagine your first child is a girl, what do you call her?

Natasha

22. Imagine your first child is a boy, what do you call him?

Rahul

23. Would you ever consider living abroad?

No, but if circumstances don’t leave me with a choice then I would ‘consider’ it.

24.What do you want GOD to say to you when you reach the pearly gates?

I am sorry for putting you there dear, but aren’t you the richer from the experience?

25. Five people who must also do this meme in their journal.

I will be a good girl and leave that to anyone who wishes to take it up.

Height of Attrition

This is a conversation that took place in my office today.

Madhavan: Hi, came to say bye to you, I am leaving this place.
Me: I will miss you. Hope you got into a good company and a decent compensation package.
Madhavan:I did... I am joining Honeywell and I have a couple of other offers too. Salary is good and so are the perks.
Me: That's great!! Best of luck!
Madhavan:Thank you. Keep in touch.
Me: Definitely, with attrition rates the way they are, we will soon bump into each other in some company or the other.
Madhavan: ha ha I know. It was nice knowing you. Bye

Madhavan is the guy who brews Tea and Coffee in our Cafeteria for people who dont like the vending machine stuff. He is joining a Caterer in another IT company.

Now that's what I call the Height of Attrition :)

The simple way

Yesterday was Good Friday and I did what I always do i.e. sneak into the Children’s Way of the Cross at St. Patricks School. It is the cutest, sweetest, simplest and quickest Way of the Cross I have ever attended. It is conducted by the Nuns who run the St. Patricks Orphanage and is open to all kids below 16 I think. I have always managed to sneak in with a little tot I borrow from anyone I can recognize. This time there were many and I took one such coterie along with me.

The children lead the Stations right from the beginning with simple meaningful readings and prayers in between. And the hymns are simple too which means everyone could join in. We finished the Stations in about 40 minutes. In the main church the priest was still in the 6th Station.The extraordinarily long sermons made the service almost 2 hours long. I just do not understand the penchant of Priests to give long meaningless sermons. Except the Redemptorists, none of the other Orders know how to give a Sermon. In Mumbai the rule in churches is 7 minutes for a sermon, no more. I think it is high time Bangalore churches adopted the same. I took a few snaps, with my friends mobile cam which I am posting at random here.



Holy Week services are so well conducted and looked forward to because of this elegant and graceful church. The services are conducted at the St Joseph’s College grounds. There is plenty of place to sit and the place is cool with a brisk breeze wafting in to make the Lenten summer tolerable. And the choir makes the whole experience so sublime.



Yesterday’s rendition of the “Old Rugged Cross’ by Oscar Menezes was so melodious that I wanted to record it for posterity. Hope this gifted singer does record his album of hymns one day. Micehelle Cherian's solos were like liquid gold in the ears. Carlton Saldanha led the choir that is perhaps one of the best I have heard in recent times. I am so looking forward to Easter Service at the same place.

( p.s. Why does Lent come in summer when I so look forward to a chilled Beer? *sniff* )

A blessed Easter everyone!

Rest in Dignity

Dr. Raj Kumar the Kannada Super Star passed away yesterday. Apart from what is talked in the media about him, I liked him as an actor and singer. Fed up of our bumbling in Kannada, our 4th Std. Kannada teacher told us to watch Kannada programmes on DD so that we could pick up the language easily. Kannada was my third language in school.

( I learnt Malayalam the traditional way, i.e. with a Vidyarambham that was done by an asaan in my Mom’s place. I wrote the letter aa in Malayalam on Rice. Nowadays I have heard that churches too have started Vidhyarambham in Kerala.)

Now I had the perfect excuse to watch TV and I watched quite a bit of Kananda movies those days. DD would show a lot of Raj Kumar movies. And I felt an instant liking for Raj Kumar. He was so comfortable in front of the camera that you felt like he was not acting. And the characters he played were very lifelike. Of course his movies were the feel good movies. He was also the only actor I have seen who treated his heroines like a gentleman on screen, No groping or any suggestive movements. He was the perfect Kannadiga, son, brother, lover and husband in his movies. Perhaps that is what appealed to the masses.

When Raj Kumar was kidnapped there was sheer revelry among the anti social elements and they went about looting shops and indulging in arson in apparent glee. It was evident from TV coverage that the arsonists were enjoying themselves.

Pity that anti social elements have take his death too as the perfect excuse to go on the rampage. These people have scant regard for the final moments of Raj Kumar and are using his death as an excuse to take to lawlessness. Somehow I think he deserved better. As I watched the ambulance carrying the thespians body stuck amidst the crowd I could not but help feel bad for him. I am sure all he would have wanted was to go home one last time in peace.

The media too is scared. Radio City has stopped all programmes and is only broadcasting Raj Kumar’s songs. Cable TV too has gone blank. There is a palpable fear in the city. The TV channels too are cashing in on the TRP bonanza. One Channel even showed a lady questioning Raj Kumar’s death. It was the most irresponsible piece of journalism. Such things just fuel the fire for opportunists and miscreants.

I still remember watching Mother Teresa’s funeral on TV. Millions of people lined up the route in silence and she made her final journey in dignity.

I hope the so-called fans of Raj Kumar will at least grant him that.

The desertification of Bangalore

Some years back the area behind HAL Airport was a favorite haunt for our weekly birding outings. This place is rich in bird population and only a small village broke the dark green expanse of scrubs, trees and a swamp. Which is why as we drove up this road on Saturday I was shocked to see the place totally changed. I was driving my cousin sister to an interview at an IT company that has sprung up where the village once stood. Most of the scrub forest in this area has been cut and the green grass burnt to make way for another yet techonopolis. Even the swamp will be covered soon to make it stable to erect another building. This swamp used to be the haunt of so many water birds.

I was devastated and after dropping off my cousin sister at the place took a walk down the road. I spotted an Ashy Prinia. It came quite close to me. I have been very lucky with birds. Last time I went to Ooty Kousik told me to look out for Black and Orange Flycacher. It is a highly endangered species. Apparently he had waited in vain at the Ooty Botanical Garden to spot one with no success. But to my surprise and delight this bird came and sat on the electric fence of the Tamil Nadu Dairy Development Board estate RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME. Unfortunately I had only my Minolta aim and shoot camera. Then I saw another one taking an evening bath in a bucket near King’s Cliff. Again the Minolta and a really bad shot of this beautiful bird.

Anyways to get back to the area behind HAL airport…..I walked around what was left of this once sylvan paradise and saw several other birds. The whole thing was an outrage against Nature. I realize that development has to take place. But what about the creatures that ensure our survival on earth? Trees are cut down without even bothering to see if there are nests on them. In my part of Kerala, a nest means cutting of the tree is delayed till the nestlings have flown off. It’s simple village logic.

These technopolises are concrete deserts with not a single tree save for a few ugly Palms for landscape. Indigenous trees are essential for birds to build their nest on. But these technopolises are landscaped with alien bushes and dwarf trees. Trees are razed and lawns planted that require huge amount of water to keep it green. Borewells are being sucked dry to supply water to these companies leading to water depletion. Villagers watch helplessly as the tankers come and draw water as no formal permission is needed to draw water from borewells. Garbage being dumped into lakes caused a revolt a few months back with villagers burning the corporation garbage trucks.The amount of plastic that Bangalore generates is mind bogling.

Most of these buildings are built with glass sheets like their western counterparts. These buildings become heat traps (which is beneficial in western countries as it reduces heating bills) due to the fast heating glass, which in turn puts a burden on the AC Plant that in turn works harder to cool the building letting out huge amount of hot air into the atmosphere. No wonder summers in Bangalore are blistering.

I wonder if these companies (including the one that employs me) would be this callous with their Environment back home. India it seems is for exploitation and Indians in their mad scramble for investments are just not worried at the devastation that development have done to Bangalore’s environment.

And the government wants to bring in more and more investment into Bangalore. We don’t have the roads, water, accommodation, garbage clearance or sewage facility for this. And that is why most old Bangaloreans like me heaved a sigh of relief when the SemIndia Inc deal went to Hyderabad.

I read somewhere that we should give God the
IPR for creating this Earth and the cosmos. I fully agree.

Exposed!!

There are some things in life that you ought to do at least once before getting married ;) And I managed to accomplish that in Goa. I decided that I must do it once at least before marriage. Not that there is any hurry for marriage now and I have a good four years of stretching my Mom’s patience to the limit. But I could wait no more and decided that I was definitely going to do it.

I have a classmate in Goa and I was really looking forward to meeting her when I went there last November. During a phone conversation I suggested that the two of us try it. The suggestion was greeted with a scandalized gasp, disbelief and finally giggles. My friend was thrilled at doing the forbidden thing for Indian girls before marriage. She even offered to bring two people to do it with. Having convinced her I realized that we needed a suitable place away from prying eyes where we could do it. My friend‘s Dad was a retired Admiral and they lived in an old colonial style house with a small secluded beach nearby. The house was on a small hill and we had to walk down the hill to get to the beach. The place was lonely save for the occasional Naval boats that passed by. So it was decided that on Tuesday when her parents went to the Naval Club we would do it on the beach with the two people she would bring along.

On Tuesday my friend came and picked me up. My parents had left for a river cruise and my brothers were out with their friends who had also driven down to Goa. After my friend's parents left the four of us went down to the beach, stripped and *drums rolling* got into a bikini!!!! WE HAD DONE IT!! We had worn a two piece bikini!!!! :p

The only people who knew about this, were a few of my friends and another guy pal. After the deed was done I called up all my friends and co-conspirators. Among the mails I got, this one from a guy had me ROFL for a long time. It still makes me chuckle.

Flash News: Indian Navy On Alert In Goa Coast!

After a concerned citizen informed naval intelligence about the strong possibility that 1 Achayathi and few of her friends are about to signal "revolution" in their inimitable way by wearing two piece bathing suits, Indian Navy was placed on red alert in Goa coast.

Submarines were recalled from patrolling sea lanes and instead were cruising around the beaches to catch the Achayathi in her act of exposure. Marine commando battalions were deployed in the beaches and further reinforcements flown in to cover private and unfrequented beaches. Air force helped in by lending a few spy planes to cover the event. DRDO used the situation to test their latest spy cam, which is programmed to capture hi-resolution pictures from a distance of 100 miles.

After a committed search by the armed forces, the culprits were caught in "action". Marine commandos had their fun snooping on the Achayathi while the unusually frustrated submariners almost committed an act of rebellion while fighting for the right to look through their periscopes. Indeed, more serious indisciplinary acts were prevented only by following the timely advice given by the said "concerned citizen" to broadcast the pictures on the conference hall which satisfied one and all.


India's intelligence agencies attributed the successful operation to the timely intelligence provided by the "concerned citizen" (who prefers to remain anonymous). President Kalam used the opportunity to drive home the point that our nation's future is in the able hands of the youth. He suggested that ISRO should soon launch 24 satellites to cover India's entire coastline to identify and records such acts of exposure. Prime Minister Dr. Manmohan Singh said he was proud of the achievements and that such innovative thinking is necessary for GDP growth of 10% which is the only way India can lift its millions of citizens above poverty line. Madame Sonia Gandhi, Chair Person of UPA lauded the spirit and guts of the "concerned citizen", but she was later heard commenting privately to cancel her planned holidays in Goa and book French Riviera instead. The Left and BJP had a rare moment of agreement as both conveyed dismay at the sick pervert plans of the Achayathi and were happy to see them foiled thus diffusing a serious threat to national security and sovereignty. However, their innate cross-purposes were soon visible as BJP wanted India to buy higher-resolution cameras from Israel (so that their rather elderly bachelors can get a peek too) while Left wanted more grants for Keltron to develop the same domestically! In commenting about the episode to us, the "concerned citizen" admitted that he was happy to do a lil something for his country.

Half an later the four of us girls got cold feet and got back into a one piece swimsuit :)) We dared not take pictures and I half expected to see my Mom appear on the hilltop and look down at me in shock, disbelief and disapproval like the Mom in Bend it like Beckham. Funny part is that the other girls too had the same creepy feeling lol

It was nice to be naughty. Have you done it ? :p

From rags to riches

Last week I went to the Digital Print guy at Koramangala to take a color printout. As I waited for my turn I saw an expensive SUV driving into the parking lot. Three guys and a girl got out. The guys wore expensive clothes and gold bracelets on their hands. They walked in with an air of familiarity and greeted the graphic designers (GD) sitting down next to them. One of the guys was practically showing off his expensive lighter, cigarettes, mobile phones etc. I saw a Rolex in one of the guy’s hands.

Then they gathered around the GD and started giving him some instructions in Malayalam. It was a brochure that they were making. From their conversation I could gather that they were into some sort of NGO or charity organization helping the rural poor. The brochure was being made for the many people abroad who had sent money to the organization.

"Put a photograph of a smiling child. The whites like to see that."

"And put some nice background for the village from those sceneries you have. We do not want the vellakaars (white man) to think we are doing nothing."

"Yes. These guys like to see all that."

"And put a 'before' and 'after' picture of that little boy. The ‘before’ picture should look thin and the ‘after’ picture should look fat. You can do that in Photoshop right?"

This was the conversation that was flying thick and fast as they ‘directed’ the making of the brochure. As I sat listening to them and peeping into the monitor while pretending to be impatiently pacing around I saw a con job happening right in front of me. The finished brochure made from scanned photographs of the village and some images from photo libraries looked spectacular. In fact if I hadn’t seen the making of the brochure I would have been tempted to make a donation for the yeoman service they were doing for the poor.

These guys had found a unique way to get rich quick. They had created a 'Charity' organization, made a few impressive ppt's for the consumption of charity funding agencies and got funds to look after the welfare of the poor. A part of the funds are actually put into charity, the rest they appropriate. It is a win win situation. During the nineties I had heard of the rush to do “charity’ work. And I have seen many people, some of them even my own relations making it big. Then I heard there was clampdown with the government bringing in certain legislations to check the misuse of ‘charity’ funds. But I guess our intrepid Indians will find a loophole everywhere. We are an ingenious people indeed. We will even make a living out of the poor.

(An aunt of mine who works with Oxfam informs me that a percentage of money that come from abroad are donated by old people who do not think twice about donating a pound or a dollar or a few pennies from their pension towards the poor in India.)

The great mallu vanishing trick.

I was recently talking to couple of my cousins who were staying with us for their IIM interviews. Both of them were relieved to be out of Kerala and on their way to a dynamic career after IIM. This and a couple of things I noticed in my visits to Kerala set me thinking.

On my last visit to Kerala I went to all the kaarnavaru’s houses. Most of these elegant Tharavadu homes were bereft with just the old couple and maybe an attendant. Their kids were settled outside Kerala and the grandkids were occasional visitors. Many of them didn’t even know Malayalam. Many were grown up and married to non mallus. This is the case in many homes. The able bodied generation has drained out of the State to look for employment never to return. And the political climate prevalent in Kerala prevent the many who long to come back to settle down in their naadu.

The Kerala of today is the nursery of India. Kids are born, educated and then sent out to staff the various companies big and small outside Kerala. They later settle down outside only to return as Non Resident Keralites (NRK) for festivals, weddings and other general visits. Kerala is left with a fast aging generation and many homes are now left with old people and fading memories. Soon this generation will pass away and the Tharavadu’s will be sold to developers.

The scenario appears bleak to me. I think Malayalees as a people, culture and language will cease to exist if not in the immediate future then by the end of this century. I shudder to think of the ancestral homes turned into resorts and hotels by outsiders. Imagine living in a home-stay called Illikal House that is run by some Sharma offering ‘authentic’ Kerala homestead experience? The very thought breaks my heart. Maybe I am not aware of the realities in Kerala but when I see scores of young people going out of Kerala never to return I feel apprehensive of the fate of Kerala.

I wish the Kerala government and people realize that they should make the state a refuge for Malayalees to return and pave the way for the preservation of the Malayalees. Hope Information Technology will come as a savior for our State with our youth finding jobs in the tech parks of Kochi, Trivandrum etc. I love the Malayalam language, culture, heritage, which is ours from centuries. I do not want to lose it. But I do not know how we can stem the slide to oblivion.

This post is a result of an uneasiness that has been eating into me for some time.

(p.s. I do not want the Tamils, Kannadigas or Punjabi’s too meet similar fates. Each of these cultures should be preserved. But these people do not face the same problems mallus face when they think of returning to Kerala)

The working class

What I meant was that waking up to the realities of life would have been a shock for Sleeping Beauty!! After the lovely wedding to the Prince she would have to put up with the royal mom in law and dad in law and the running of the huge castle and the Prince's other wives etc. This is the actual meaning of "Happily Ever After" I think LOL

I am sure after finishing her royal chores, Sleeping Beauty would find your writings and the lovely pictures here a huge relief :)


This was the comment I left on this post of Mind Curry. There was a whole of things that made me make that comment. From the time I left started summer Interships, I have met and befriended many married colleagues and with the attrition rate in IT cos as they are, met many more during the last few years of my working life. At first it was the usual gang that forms during lunch time. Girls, some married some unmarried who get along well together usually sit together during lunch time and the coffee break time. And we girls tend to talk. There is a bond and an understanding between the female gender. We are like a totally different species that find solace, empathy and sympathy in each other’s company. Many things that happen in our lives whether we are Malayalees, Punjabi’s, Bengali or Andamanese are similar. Talk about Unity in Diversity. The only unity in diversity that I see is in the plight of the womenfolk across the length and breadth of this country.

Thursday was Yugadhi, the New Year for Telugus, Kannadigas and some other States. The holiday was greeted with glee by the single gals and gloom by the married gals. I know by now that these gals will have to get up early and toil in the kitchen preparing the traditional food items for the festival with no help from menfolk while the in-laws will invite all and sundry for the pooja and feasting. Of course all this will be accomplished alone and in some cases without servants by these gals who are software engineers, hardware engineers et al. One such girl is V. She is a techie and takes home a decent pay package much more than her small time businessman husband. She gets up at 5:30 everyday and washes by hand her husbands and brother-in-laws factory clothes as the machine will not remove the stubborn stains. Then she makes breakfast for the family of 10 people and tiffin for the kids, washes up the vessels and cleans the kitchen and then comes to work exhausted. Her sister-in-law makes the lunch and tea and when V gets back from work, she and her sister in law prepare the dinner, wash up ( as the servant left) and then go to sleep around 12. Till now there was pressure from her in laws to resign and stay at home and cook. But she resisted as she went through hell when she was a housewife with no money of her own.

Most of the married girls tell similar tales. After the first flush of marriage ( many were love marriages within their own communities) they realize that they have become cooks, housekeepers and maids. The charming man they married suddenly changes and becomes a task master who expects the girl he wooed and dined and wined to look after him like his mom did. The unified advice that these girls give us single gals?

“ You are a financially independent girl. You don’t need a husband to look after you. If possible don’t get married”.

And after hearing this from almost 100% of the married girls I am now very sure that I do not want to take up the sole resposibility of an adult human being on my head.

What bought on this tirade? The prospect of seeing these girls tomorrow loking tired and exhausted because they were up early cooking and cleaning and will now have to work 9 hours in the office and go back and do the housework all over again. I AM SO MAD!!!!!!!!!

( Guys, spare a thought for your married gal colleagues when they ask for leave or come late to work. These girls have it tough, believe me!)