Yum T V Toadies

Pix courtesy Bryon

I hate Yum TV Toadies. Somebody please duct tape the Dysphoric Maniac who produces the show and the wimp he hires as anchor to compere the show!

I do not understand this show…so please bear with me here. We first have the channel advertising auditions for the Toadies show. After which we are put through a prolonged serial display of Dysphoric Mania with the Dysphoric Maniac (DM) and another wimp who apes him, selecting participants for the show in front of the camera.

The selection process does not allow anyone with balls to stand up to the DM and only people who the DM can intimidate are selected. But not before he humiliates kids half his age in front of the camera because they are so desperate for a break on television. Pathetic and absolutely abusive. If he thinks that Toadies is about toughness then he needs to kick himself out of the show and get some real men to select the contestants!!

After careful selection of the Toadies, the DM begins the show where a toy boy called Ran V Joy puts the toadies through various tasks. The Toy Boy looks ill at ease and stands like an emasculated eunuch when the Dysphoric Maniac walks into the show from time to time and abuses and scolds the contestants for the most weirdest reasons and walks out like a coward. After which the Toy Boy picks up the pieces and conducts the competitions and eliminations.

In between the tasks the Toadies face the camera and bitch about each other in Hindi. Just when you are settling in to watch the competition, in walks in the DM again...to stand in front of the camera and scream his lungs out at the Toadies for silly reasons like failing in the tasks. His voice is weak, tinny and irritating and he screams like a spoilt toy dog at a dog show snugly sitting in his rich mistresses arms away from the big dogs. His eyes bulges out, the veins on his neck stand out and you wonder if this guy is addicted to anger! A most unpleasant sight.

And if anyone from the ranks of the Toadies has the temerity to stand up to him, he is summarily dismissed from the show. “GET THE F&%K OUT” are the eloquent words used to remove a contestant from a show because he dared to face the bully. The DM then walks off with a look of supreme satisfaction like a man who has just had his fix after a long bout of cold turkey.

If you must know I watched the show out of curiosity the first time and the next time recently as someone urged me to watch the tamasha. I don’t know when the publicity starved populace of ours will realize the difference between opportunity and abuse.

Watch ‘Dance India Dance’ on Zee TV Mr. Dysphoric Maniac and learn from the judges how to conduct a show.

Degrees of separation

It is Friday morning and I am sitting at the Bangalore airport sipping a horrible Cappuccino and catching up on blogs and news. The airport is quite with sleepy passengers nursing their coffees, teas and hangovers in silence. Thanks to airport car pooling I have arrived very early for my flight to Mumbai. It was just a few months ago that we had individual cabs for airport drops. Sheer waste of fuel, I used to think then. Recession seems to have bought my snobbish company to earth with a gentle thud. Gentle thud…because many other wasteful practices still continue.

I am so engrossed in my laptop that I do not see nor hear a young girl sitting next to me. She is a really good looking Tambram girl. She looks very conservative though from her clothing. She carries a toddler in her arms. She seats the toddler on the chair and goes to get the trolley with her luggage. Before she goes she asks me politely if I will keep an eye on her son. I nod smiling at her. She smiles back reassured. I see her pushing a trolley with numerous bags which she parks near me. Then she glances at the airport entrance and gazes with some desperation at an old couple standing out side. The old couple is dressed in very traditional clothes of Palghat Brahmins. They look so nice and homely that I feel at tug at my heart for the girl who is obviously leaving them for another shore. A young man, perhaps her brother gently guides the old couple away from the door towards the car park. A very tactful move I think. The girl gazes at them till they are out of sight. She swallows hard, wipes her eyes surreptitiously and turns to me and thanks me for looking after her son and luggage.

“Are you the only daughter” I ask.
“I have an anna” she said smiling in relief. She is glad for the conversation.
“Are you married” she asks flicking her eyes at my neck and ring finger.
“No” I say with a smile.
“Don’t marry too far away from your parents okay?” she says turning her face away. She seems to be battling some emotions for it is a while before she looks at me and gives me a polite smile.

She asks me about my college and school and we find quite a few people we know in common. She had studied in a college in Malleswaram and then went on do her Engineering in Coimbatore. We talk about Bangalore and familiar hangouts in Malleswaram, M.G Road and Majestic area, the idiosyncrasies and eccentricities of the people of Malleswaram and Rajajinagar and the numerous book fairs that we attended in droves. She tells me how intimidated she is of girls from my college and how surprised she is that I was normal in spite of being from “that” college. We talk about the eateries in Malleswaram and the movie theaters near Majestic. We realize that we had haunted the same places as college girls though a few years apart. She was senior to me by five years. She was married at 21 on the last day of her Engineering exam and left for the US with her husband soon after. In the US she spent many a boring day confined to the house till her husband returned home late in the evening. She never saw the town she lived in till the snow melted and they were able to go out. Then she was pregnant. She had her baby in the US and her sister-in-law came and stayed with her as her parents were too old to travel to the US. This is her first visit to India after her baby was born. She had apparently had a wonderful time and now a lonely home in the US awaited her after a tumultuous and eventful visit.

Out flight is announced and I help her board with her numerous pieces of baggage. In the aircraft I am surprised to see her heading towards me and asking the gentleman sitting next to me if she could sit next to me. The gentleman obliges. She settles in with a sigh of relief. We talk some more about her life in the US and her loving but rather busy husband. At Mumbai I find her a trolley and help her deposit her baggage.

At the gate we part promising to keep in touch. I spy my cab. Before I get in, I look back to wave good bye. She is standing near the door child in hand gazing at me with some desperation. I wave and quickly get into the car. A tactful move I think. Perhaps she will find another me on the next leg of her journey. I pray that she does.

View from the other side

An open letter to Gen Kayani by Col Harish Puri (Retd)

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Dear Gen Kayani,

Sir, let me begin by recounting that old army quip that did the rounds in the immediate aftermath of World war II: To guarantee victory, an army should ideally have German generals, British officers, Indian soldiers, American equipment and Italian enemies.

A Pakistani soldier that I met in Iraq in 2004 lamented the fact that the Pakistani soldier in Kargil had been badly let down firstly by Nawaz Sharif and then by the Pakistani officers' cadre. Pakistani soldiers led by Indian officers, , he believed, would be the most fearsome combination possible. Pakistani officers, he went on to say, were more into real estate, defence housing colonies and the like.

As I look at two photographs of surrender that lie before me, I can't help recalling his words. The first is the celebrated event at Dhaka on Dec 16, 1971, which now adorns most Army messes in Delhi and Calcutta. The second, sir, is the video of a teenage girl being flogged by the Taliban in Swat -- not far, I am sure, from one of your Army check posts.

The surrender by any Army is always a sad and humiliating event. Gen Niazi surrendered in Dhaka to a professional army that had outnumbered and outfought him. No Pakistani has been able to get over that humiliation, and 16th December is remembered as a black day by the Pakistani Army and the Pakistani state. But battles are won and lost – armies know this, and having learnt their lessons, they move on.

But much more sadly, the video of the teenager being flogged represents an even more abject surrender by the Pakistani Army. The surrender in 1971, though humiliating, was not disgraceful. This time around, sir, what happened on your watch was something no Army commander should have to live through. The girl could have been your own daughter, or mine.

I have always maintained that the Pakistani Army, like its Indian counterpart, is a thoroughly professional outfit. It has fought valiantly in the three wars against India, and also accredited itself well in its UN missions abroad. It is, therefore, by no means a pushover. The instance of an Infantry unit, led by a lieutenant colonel, meekly laying down arms before 20-odd militants should have been an aberration. But this capitulation in Swat, that too so soon after your own visit to the area, is an assault on the sensibilities of any soldier. What did you tell your soldiers? What great inspirational speech did you make that made your troops back off without a murmur? Sir, I have fought insurgency in Kashmir as well as the North-East, but despite the occasional losses suffered (as is bound to be the case in counter-insurgency operations), such total surrender is unthinkable.

I have been a signaller, and it beats me how my counterparts in your Signal Corps could not locate or even jam a normal FM radio station broadcasting on a fixed frequency at fixed timings. Is there more than meets the eye?

I am told that it is difficult for your troops to "fight their own people." But you never had that problem in East Pakistan in 1971, where the atrocities committed by your own troops are well documented in the Hamoodur Rahman Commission Report. Or is it that the Bengalis were never considered "your own" people, influenced as they were by the Hindus across the border? Or is that your troops are terrified by the ruthless barbarians of the Taliban?

Sir, it is imperative that we recognise our enemy without any delay. I use the word "our" advisedly – for the Taliban threat is not far from India's borders. And the only force that can stop them from dragging Pakistan back into the Stone Age is the force that you command. In this historic moment, providence has placed a tremendous responsibility in your hands. Indeed, the fate of your nation, the future of humankind in the subcontinent rests with you. It doesn't matter if it is "my war" or "your war" – it is a war that has to be won. A desperate Swati citizen's desperate lament says it all – "Please drop an atom bomb on us and put us out of our misery!" Do not fail him, sir.

But in the gloom and the ignominy, the average Pakistani citizen has shown us that there is hope yet. The lawyers, the media, have all refused to buckle even under direct threats. It took the Taliban no less than 32 bullets to still the voice of a brave journalist. Yes, there is hope – but why don't we hear the same language from you? Look to these brave hearts, sir – and maybe we shall see the tide turn. Our prayers are with you, and the hapless people of Swat.

The New York Times predicts that Pakistan will collapse in six months. Do you want to go down in history as the man who allowed that to happen?

The writer is a retired colonel of the Indian army who lives in Pune.

Happy Easter!

Summer is here and the trees and shrubs in my house are a spray with blooms in myriad colors. This year we've had a semblance of a "Bangalore Summer" of yore...comparatively mild compared to the summers we have been having for the past seven years or so. I took some pictures of the flowers and trees in my house on a pleasant summer evening some time last week. Here are a few pictures.

Wishing you all a very Happy Easter!!

May the Lord continually bless you with heaven's blessings as well as with human joys. Psalm 128.5

What's the good name?

What is the height of adventure? For some people it is jumping from a plane...for some it is bungee jumping or scaling a steep cliff. The thrill and the adrenalin rush it gives you is a heady feeling. For me the ultimate adrenalin rush comes with flirting with grave danger a.k.a calling my mother “edi leelamme.” The thrill it gives will beat sky diving with an umbrella any day!!!

I come from a family where calling elders by name is forbidden even if the elder is elder by a couple of months only! If you were to ask me what my grandfather’s youngest brother’s name is I wouldn't know and he is my favorite grand uncle too! He is called Kunjitappan (Kunju + chittappan). His eldest brother is called Perappan and the guy after him Chittappan. The wives also follow the same naming logic and that is 8 pairs of names that we kids memorized by habit by the time we were 6 or 7 years old. I have to call both my elder brothers "chetan" even though one doesn't deserve it at all :p Even cousin brothers who are elder have to be addressed as “chetan” and cousin sisters are “chechi.” It is more or less a habit now and as a kid I amused elders by calling cousin brothers close to my age as “eda cheta”

Luckily for us we are allowed to call my Dad’s five brother as “uncles”. However there was a hitch. Every person in my family both from my mother’s side and father’s side has a nick name…sigh. And remembering my uncles nicks was really tough. My Dad is called Kunjunju, the next Kunjooty and so on. We could never tell them apart and to the usual question as to which of the brothers kids were, we usually messed up royally :p My family is 500 strong so you can imagine the number of names we had to know. It came naturally as we have heard them being addressed with their nick since we were lil kids. But there is a hitch here too. We do not know their “real names” It was very recently that I came to know that two close friends and cousins called “Kunjumon” and “Ciby” were Mathew and Sebastian respectively and the revelation came when they came here for their interviews and my Dad was going over their papers. For the past 21-22 years I had never known that they were Mathew and Sebastian!!!

So this Saturday I sat down and got my mom to tell me the “real” names of people I know so well except for their ‘real’ names of course. And out tumbled the Antony’s and Abrahams and Korahs and Thomases out of the family closet. I just couldn’t believe that these people had normal names! :-O

What is more surprising and somewhat miraculous is that my Mom and Dad married into almost identical families as far as nomenclature traditions are concerned! Else they are as different as chalk and cheese :p

Coming to the height of adventure….now you can imagine the grave peril I subject my life and limbs to when I dare to call my mom “edi leelamme”. And it is the absolute faith in my ability to outrun my mom and stay out of sight till she cools down that makes me take the chance! :|

The eyes of the beholder!

In high school we had a classmate with a mousy looking face, dark complexion and she wore glasses too. Definitely not a girl anyone looked at twice. Her younger sister on the other hand was quite good looking. So it was with shock I heard that guys found her hot! Another classmate confirmed that even her brothers friends found this gal quite a catch. That one incident taught me a valuable lesson. That what we girls thought was beauty was not necessarily endorsed by guys. Though stars like an Aishwarya is acknowledged to be a beauty by both guys and girls, rarely do guys and gals agree on the looks of another girl. I have found absolutely horrible looking girls looked upon as good looking by guys. Though me and my friends still agree on the look or lack of it on other girls, we have always acknowledged that what we find plain or ugly is our viewpoint only. Guys have a different rule book for judging looks. The revelation was humbling. It dispelled some lofty and snooty notions we had as school girls and bought us down to earth with a thud.

Weddings were another revelation. We found really good looking guys choosing jaw droppingly ugly girls as wives. Many of the brides were plump!! It is a common sight to see female heads shake in bewilderment at wedding receptions :) Another humbling moment as we realized that the status quo amongst us girls was a no go amongst guys! If we had any sense we had better get plump or look like the girls on the podium if we were to be acknowledged as attractive by guys. :p That would never happen of course. But then we have become less condescending of girls who look plain in our eyes. We know that our view is not universally acknowledged.

I don’t know if this happens with guys too. I wonder if they find guys that we gals find cute or smart as horrible looking or unmanly...hmmm

Having acknowledged to what I have in this post I have to admit that this revelation still doesn’t prevent us girls from looking at each other in absolute shock when we are introduced to a smart/good looking guy’s wife, girlfriend or fiancé for the first time! :))

Music - Mercy

Prime Family Time!

Last weekend I was in Kochi for a function. Normally we do not have functions during Lent, but this was an exception…a house blessing of a couple leaving for the US for their daughter’s confinement. In the evening we dropped into a family friend’s house at their insistence for dinner. What followed was a display of a new social system practiced in urban Kerala, one that I was not aware of. We reached their house around 7 p.m. We were to leave by that evening’s flight but postponed the same for the next day so that we could drop into these people’s home.

After the initial pleasantries and small talk, the family switched on the television. After that the whole family were engrossed in the TV programmes without a thought to the guests they had called home for dinner. The dinner invite was a reciprocation of the numerous times they have dropped in home when in Bangalore and even though we don’t believe in the formality of people having to invite us for return dinners, we accepted as we had never been to their house for a meal. We did not want them to feel like we did not want to eat at their house.

After the Television was switched on, the family ignored us till 10:30 p.m. So engrossed were they in the programmes. The whole family consisting of a Dad, Mom, Son and Daughter in law, Daughter and Son in Law and kids just sat glued to the T.V oblivious of their guests. It was downright demeaning. I held my cool because my Dad thought we might as well get over the obligation of having dinner in their place to avoid a repeat invitation. The thought of coming here again made me hold my fire or I would have walked out long time ago. I specially do not like anyone insulting my folks. And I am quite capable of walking out with pointed polite jibes as my tolerance level for such behavior is very very low no matter who the person is.

So we watched a collage of tears, avarice, sorrow, anger, pride, ill treatment and lust that make up a Malayalam serial till 10:30 p.m. Around 10:30 p.m the family gets up, switches off the television and the ladies lay the table. I was waiting for the chance. I bolted my food and told my Dad to do the same. The poor man who is just the opposite of his daughter agreed reluctantly because he knows that if he does not listen, the daughter would definitely haul him from the table into the car. I served myself seven and half grains of rice and a little more than that onto my Dad’s plate and got up. The family was aghast that we barely touched the food. I was hoping that it would be a hint. I saw the ladies exchanging glances. I wondered what they thinking! (a) What a horrible people, wasting food that we made with a lot of effort or (b) What horrible people, no manners or (c) What a horrible people- so rude. If they can invite people for dinner and ignore them for the rest of the evening then I can safely say that the answer to the above questions would be (d) All of the above.

And if you think this is an exception then think again. I have heard from so many people visiting relations in Kerala that people in Kerala do not like guests dropping in during Television Prime Time! Believe it or not!!! And many people I know visit relations after looking at the T.V guide. Like an Aunt innocently exclaimed to my mom the other day – Aiiyyo Leelamme, I went to Aliyamma's house at 7 p.m because she told me she doesn’t watch Sthree Janmam. But apparently she has started watching it recently! How embarrassing! tch tch!

Visiting Kerala? Dont forget the Malayala Manorama T.V Guide. It is Televisions Own Country now, down under!

Music - Remember 'The Rigga Ding Dong Song'?

The great Indian culture!

The events that unfolded in Mangalore last month was a plug coming off a pus filled wound festering in our society. A wound filled with the pus of resentment, anger and injured macho pride at women’s liberation and emancipation. Soon after the Mangalore incident there were many incidents of girls being beaten up in Bangalore. The perpetrators were people who were looking for an outlet to let off steam at the alarming trend of Indian women abandoning their traditional role as chattels and second class citizens! Alarm over female liberation has been simmering below the surface of our society for some time now. Mangalore merely bought the simmering discontent to fore.

For far too long the Indian man was the sacred cow of the family, worshipped and revered as a superior being. In the olden days he was the only bread winner. Women prayed for his well being and a long life. A widow’s plight was desperate indeed and only a presence of man in her life gave an Indian woman a social standing and security. This elevated the status of men to dizzying heights and it continued for some time and still continues in some parts of the country and individual homes. Later as the women too started working, his position as lord and master remained unchallenged. Whether the women worked in brick kilns, construction sites or offices, they kept the status quo in the home intact.

As time went by and women began taking on more challenging roles at the work place, the ladies found it difficult to cope with the demands of the workplace and the home and hearth. When there was no respite the women began questioning their traditional role as home makers and started resenting the additional work they had to put in at home while the men continued to enjoy their role as demi gods. This lead to the smartening up of women and they ensured that their daughters were bought up without the cultural baggage they were bought up with. Fathers too realized that it was better to educate the girl child as the security that marriages provided in the olden days could not be taken for granted anymore.

A new breed of gals are being produced today by the great Indian middle class. A breed that is told that they should be financially independent so that they are not left for the wolves at the whims and fancies of their men. And it is this group of girls that The Mad Man from Mangalore is fighting against. This is his definition of ‘against our culture.” It is sheer male chauvinism disguised as concern for the Indian culture.

However it is too late to turn the clock back. Indian women have come into their own and they have their parent’s blessings to go with it. It is a question of survival and no parent wants his/her daughter in a vulnerable position at any time of her life. And the scores of parents, grand parents and elderly couples on the roads of Bangalore on Valentines Day was an indicator of the same.

While The Madman of Mangalore may raise his head again, he is fighting a losing battle. The instinct to survive is very strong in every individual. And it is this instinct that will decide what the term “Indian culture” means for all of us in the future!

Today is the third anniversary of this blog. Thank you Mathew for reminding me of the same! :) And thanks to each and everyone of you who wandered in here and read my ramblings!

Married singles

AM an ex colleague was married for seven years. She and her husband divorced last year. She was suddenly left with a child and single hood again after nine years of married life at the age of 32.

S another ex colleague also split with her husband after three years of marriage and is single again at 27.

These two are not stray cases. My brother’s office itself is witnessing around 20% increase in divorce rates. In fact he came to know recently that two of his “single’ gal colleagues were divorcees. Both are in their twenties. I shall not go into the reasons for divorce here. But I would definitely like to draw the attention to the fact that most Indian girls and their parents do not prepare themselves for this probability. Marriage is taken for granted and divorces happen to other people’s daughters. However the hard fact is that marriages do not last forever for a percentage of couples and that percentage is increasing these days. And there is no predicting who will be a part of that percentage. And one must be prepared for that.

One of my divorced colleagues rushes to work leaving her daughter with her mom and then picks her up again in the evening before going to her home. She cannot stay with her parents as she is ‘married’ now and they have already spend considerable amount of money on her wedding and trousseau. She feels bad to ask them for help now and lives in a PG where they let her keep her daughter. It is a very sad situation. She wishes her parents had instead saved the money or invested it for her future.

And she is not alone too. There are many like her. Many girls do not reveal in office or to their neighbors/landlord that they are divorced as they want to avoid the usual questions and unwanted attention. This leads to a false notion that divorces are rare. Most of these girls rue the fact that they never prepared for the eventuality! They can be seen advising unmarried girls like me to not take marriage for granted.

What is really important today is that parents face this reality and do not spend all they saved for their daughter on her wedding but leave some for a rainy day when their daughter will be out in the cold…alone.

It does sound cruel and some might argue that this would lead to more divorces. But I think what needs to be addressed now is the future of the girls if they are faced with a divorce. When I was growing up, my Dad would always tell me that my education and career alone would stand by me at all times and nothing else. Unlike many of my peers I never dreamed of marrying a man with a big house and car and wealth because I was led to believe that what I earned only would be mine. It does sound harsh but I am grateful to my Dad for that. Because the second most heard complaint about hubbies from married gal is about their tight fistedness. I know several married gals who spend more than their husbands on the home even though they earn less. Most husbands cite saving for a rainy day as an excuse for not spending more. After a few years it is any body's guess whose bank balance is healthier!

This post was written after two of my senior colleague confessed that they were delaying kids as they wanted their marriages to stabilize. They did not want to be single again with a kid. The revelation shocked me numb and subsequent ‘investigations’ made me realize that the fairy tale ending to stories called ‘they married and lived happily ever after’ has another contender now...the “they divorced and live happily ever after”.

I am not saying that girls should enter wedlock with thoughts of divorce in their heads. But that they should not rule it out either. It won’t happen to most marriages. But it will happen to some. And there is no guarantee that you will not figure in that ‘some.’

A link sent recently by a reader!

War on terror!

A journalist who shoots off her mouth and broke a couple of hundred rules in journalism goes and issues fatwa against a writer who voiced his anxiety and dismay at the situation. Then she coolly joins the chorus of people pleading with the government not to muzzle the press. Note the irony here? Heck… this is not irony. It is plain arrogance, hypocrisy, intimidation, violation of the fundamental right to freedom of speech, thought and expression and most importantly, muzzling the voice of a citizen who has expressed his opinion as a concerned citizen while millions others kept quite. If we are going to shoot down every man who stands up and voices concern over what he perceives is not a healthy trend for our society as a large, then we as a democratic nation are doomed.

It is like serving a notice to the thousands of people who thronged the streets of Mumbai, in peaceful protest against political apathy forcing the government to take stern action against the perpetrators of the November Mumbai attacks.

This incident has to be the lowest that journalism has sunk to in recent times. And I am appalled that the bearded man who ushered in the Indian telecasting revolution remained a mute spectator while his star reporter petulantly went about violating every rule in the book and then some rules in the Constitution because someone dared to point a finger at her. If this man has any conscience he will kick the offending reporter out and redeem the name of his company. He has to teach the people in his organization that no one is bigger than the company he founded on the principles of ethical journalism.

What is happening to us as a society? If a journalist gets criticized she serves a notice to the critic! If some random guy does not like us drinking, he will beat us up! If some stranger does not like the way I dress up, he will force the government to pass ordinance that defines what I wear or not! What next? Will a woman who is raped be tried for indecency? Will I serve time for being robbed at gun point? Will a wife who is thrashed by her husband be sued for misdemeanor?

And what is worse, instead of being pulled up for breaking the laws of this country, the government is actually going to make their demand legitimate. Yes people… forty odd people in a coastal town of an Indian state are going to decide for the rest of the 52 Crore people in the State what is right or wrong for them! So what valuable lesson do we learn from this situation? That if you want your voice to be heard by the powers that be…resort to violence!!!

A second uprising is necessary now. Like the one we witnessed in Mumbai. This time against intolerance and goondaism and violation of civil liberties. State sponsored intolerance in the name of religion and culture will slowly eat away our rights as citizens of a free country. We the educated middle class, a class these elements constantly target as we are soft targets, have to stand up for what we have fought for. It is not the duty of the government to spell out how we live our lives. It is their duty to govern. Give us roads, drinking water, safety and jobs instead of telling us what to eat drink or wear! That is none of their business. As a people we are long used to looking after ourselves. We have suffered enough of political apathy and inaction. And now to rub salt to our wounds, we have to put up with political interference is our personal lives too. That is the last straw!

It is high time we had an instrument by which we can track a government’s record in governance and make them accountable to the people who voted for them. Proposals like this will go a long way in reigning in politicians and remind them that the power is with the people and if they cannot govern we will look for somebody else who will deliver the goods.

This is my 250th post here. Wish it had a happier topic! Some good news here at last!

Coming soon...an ultra forward generation!!

Remember the time we were kids? We were so proud when entrusted with a grown up task and looked at grown ups with admiration when they drove a car or did something we thought was uber cool! The kids of these days on the other hand are not the hero worshiping tots we were at their age. My niece for example told her Dad when he bought a new car home that she would buy a bigger and better car when she was his age!! Poor Dad. His joy and pride evaporated in a second. Here are two instances from my gene pool a.k.a my family that will give you a sneak preview of the coming generation.

My cousin sister’s daughter is all of eight and half years old. The young lady went for Confession to church and this is the conversation she had with the Priest during Confession.

Priest: And what sins have you committed since your last visit *smile*
Brat (shrugging): The usual!
Priest: WHAT????
Brat: The usual you know!
Priest: Ahem…I don’t remember what you told me last time, so please elucidate!
Brat: The same things you know! Like, fighting with my brother, not doing my home work, not listening to amma etc.

The priest was ROFL! For the sake of non Catholics, let me explain that you don’t tell the priest “the usual” but spell out your sins! :p

The second instance is another eight year old brat in Kochi. I called her up last week and this is how the conversation went.

Me: Congrats! I heard you got fourth rank this time.
Brat (unenthusiastically): Yaah!
Me: Last time you got fifth rank or was it sixth?
Brat: Sometime it is fifth, sometimes it is sixth. This time it is fourth. Oh chechi I am so fed up of this rat race!!

It was my turn to go ROFL this time!

Have a nice weekend folks. Keep smiling! :)

The transition

Achamma works in my neighbor’s house. She has been working here as a live in maid for over fourteen years now. She is a native of Trivandrum. She loves me and the dogs a lot and would regard us with great amusement initially. She had never seen anyone walking dogs in her village. When she first came into the neighborhood, I was but a toddler and I walked the dogs with my Dad. Achamma would come to the house gate when she saw me and I would linger to talk to her and then run to join my Dad who would have sauntered off ahead. Achamma would shout a warning asking me to be careful and watch me worriedly till I reached my Dad. Then she would walk inside the house closing the gate behind her.

I have grown up with Achamma. Every evening I stop near her gate to talk. She would tell me about her teenage kids, who were being looked after by her parents in Trivandrum. Her husband a drunkard had abandoned her long ago. Her children were studying then and she was forced to come to Bangalore to seek her fortune. Fortunately, her cousin placed her in a kindly Mumbaikar Malayalee household. She is very happy and well looked after here.

Earlier she would go home every year for Onam. On her return she would bring some goodies with her for me. My mother’s protestations would be lost on her. Soon she started going every alternate year. And now she has stopped going to Kerala all together. The other day I heard her tell my mom that a visit to Kerala always made her bankrupt. Buying gifts for siblings and helping out relations who ask for monetary help made her totally broke on every visit and she has taken a very hungry train ride back to Bangalore every time. Thankfully the train tickets were bought and paid for by her employer. Now her kids are grown up and working in Delhi. Her parents have died and their small house sold and the proceeds split between her siblings and her. After that, Achamma took her last train out from Kerala, never to return again.

Achamma is not alone. There are many menial workers like her who have severed their ties with Kerala and parasitic relations after the initial enthusiasm to help out family and relations. And the reason is watching their hard earned money making people take things easy and leading to increasing irresponsibility amongst youngsters. Many of her nephews have dropped out of school and are working as laborers. Their sisters who are working, keep them afloat by sending money home. Many of them are married and have wives working outside Kerala or within Kerala supporting them while they indulge in alcohol and party meetings and strikes. There is a lot that keeps these party workers going and it is not just the party, but a support system consisting of hard working people mostly women.

Now the support system is crumbling at the edges with the women questioning the men's spendings. A maid in a nearby colony was beaten up by her husband, who came from Kerala by train to do so, when she stopped sending money home. Teresa is an example of this phenomenon. The blind loyalty towards family members back home is fast vanishing and a colder and harder conviction has set in that people back home need to take life more seriously and live within their means. For far too long, many people in Kerala have treated the maru naadan Malayalee as extra pocket money. Now attitudes are changing. People are not willing to indulge even parents who waste money and youngsters who drop out of school or college.

Perhaps family ties are weakening or women are getting smarter or wiser. I wouldn’t know. But the consequences will be deadly as a lady lost her life recently after she ran away from home to work in Bangalore and was traced by her husband. He is now on the run. It will be a bloody transition, but it is happening and that is a positive sign.

God Save His Own Country!

Here’s a marvelous compilation of painstaking research that will open the eyes of the so called Kerala defenders to the true state of Kerala. And here’s a comment by a commenter called Noble Paul that best explains the Kerala paradox and why the future is bleak for the State.

God Save His Own Country!

This New Year give a thought to the girls who are given a "One way ticket to Hell." Thanks to Aashik for the link!

All is not lost

The recession is beginning to hit home. Yesterday a cousin sister of mine got laid off. It was a devastating blow for this mother of teenage children. There was no warning and as per the terms of her contract she got her one months notice pay and they even allowed her to take leave for the notice period. Her Christmas was totally ruined. Luckily her husband still retains his job for now.

After the initial shock, the intrepid lady took a cool look at her situation and logged onto a popular job portal. She found several jobs. Though they did not pay the type of salary she was drawing, they were better then nothing. By evening she had an interview call and she is more than sure of taking the job though it pays her 45 % less.

There is a another scenario to this situation. My uncle a Small and Medium Scale (SME) businessman has been struggling to get good people for jobs for a long time now. The buoyant market made it impossible to take on even B grade b-schoolers. He just could not afford the type of salary they wanted or were being offered by big business houses. Today he is a happy man. He has not one but three MBA’s working for him at a salary he can afford to pay them. The MBA’s on the other hand are pragmatic and content with the 50% reduction in their salaries at the new job. They were similarly laid off, but seem strangely happy with their current situation.

The two examples taught me a valuable thing. That all is not lost. There are jobs out there though they may not pay very well. And people, who have lost jobs, should not despair but ride the gloom out with whatever is on offer. Depressions come and go and when the market is buoyant again, things will look up. We Indians are long used to frugality and depression should not be a scary word for us. Jobs are not disappearing. They are out there. Though they may be a lot less attractive pay-wise. But the economic boom has ensured that even at a lower price, jobs at still available for the taking! So take heart folks. All is not lost...yet! :)

Wishing you all a very Merry Christmas and a Prosperous New Year!

I am off for the hols :)

Flies in the soup!

This post from Praveen gladdened me. It gladdened me because it spared me some furious keyboard thumping of my own to let off steam. I badly wanted to write about the incident but I was too worked up to be coherent. So I am plagiarizing Praveen’s angst. That must be some first! :p

Much has been written about this utterly despicable episode. But in a way I am glad it happened. Glad because when politicians speak the truth, however occasionally it gives us a valuable glimpse into their mindset and thinking. And it is chances like this that will help us better understand this species. Yes, they are a species now of different hues and ideologies. Very different from other humans and in order to understand them, one needs ‘impromptu politically incorrect outbursts’ like this from them from time to time. It showed the man for who he is. This episode and another that happened a couple of years ago in college have coalesced to form an understanding of politicians in my mind. Let me share the same with you.

First Year College and we were part of an entourage of students and lecturers that met the Education Minister at the seat of power in Bangalore. The reason we met him is immaterial here. The minister was barely educated himself and when asked probing questions by the assemblage got hot under the collar as he had no clue and started shouting. Our English irked him more. After that the no one dared open their mouth as a minister is naturally feared for his power and the nasty things he can do to you or your family. Note the irony here. The PA signaled us to leave.

As we were leaving a group of villagers came to see the minister. The change in the minister was dramatic. He got up hands folded, a respectful smile on his face. He listened to them with humility and respect and a lot of show of attention and promised them action on some agricultural problem in some halli of Karnataka. They were perfect strangers but he gave them the respect given to a family.

Now if Sandeep Unnikrishnan was from a poor family, Mr. Politician would have been at his side in a trice. In fact most politicians from Gods own Country would have been jostling for space at his funeral. However Sandeep came from an educated middle class family. It is a class that is not happening for the politician. It is a class that is of no use to him as it does not vote and hence is not a threat of dethronement.

The poor on the other hand have nothing but a begging bowl of small grievances that can be patched up with a flourish and much fan fare and speeches to make him happy enough to vote him back to power. A pipeline here and an electricity connection there and viola…poor man is happy. His leader has delivered.

But the educated middle class? They are not happy with cosmetic applications!! They want infrastructure improved. They want accountability for their money besides they know English and the minister or MLA cannot argue with them and hope to win with words or a water tap and a lamp post alone. The temerity of the people who don't matter. Appalling! And why do we not matter, because we don't vote. Simple!

Therefore Mr. Chief Ministers arrival at Sandeep’s house and valuable time wasted to visit that house was just a formality. I am sure he detested the hypocrisy. Poor man! Do you think the public outcry will affect him? It will not and he knows that. He has already granted favors big and small to people who matter. We the unvoting junta can scream from our plush air conditioned cubicles. He cares two hoots. We don’t matter. And that’s the simple truth.

Politicians serve those who serve them. We, with our educated sneer and classy contempt are nothing but a bunch of emasculated populace who make impotent noise in the media and blogs. This is why a post like this will remain what it is at the end of the day…mere text. Because I come from a class that has no power or wont exercise their power.

Mr. Politician will notice us the day we start exercising our franchise. Till then we will remain mere pesky flies in his soup.

( Just heard about his apology under pressure to resign)

Dont worry, be happy!

An SMS broke the late evening calm in Bangalore. "Look at the Moon" it said. We all rushed out and this is what we saw. It was the heavens way of saying "Smile India! We know you have had a hard weekend!!"

Thank you Mr Moon and Miss Stars!! You just made our day err night!




Read how the government has been De-patilled for our safety! :p

Karthika

Karthika (name changed) was the wife of Ravi (name changed) a peon working in a government office in Gods Own Country (GOC). Ravi died of Cirrhosis of the Liver ten years ago. He was employed at the time. As per the rules and regulations, Ravi’s son was the natural successor to his father’s post. He had already graduated by then and the family was sure of him securing the job and Ravi’s pension soon. Like the proverbial twist in the tail shown so brilliantly in Hindi movies, the family’s fortunes sank with Ravi’s death.

When Karthika approached Ravi’s office for the pension and the job she was asked to come a month later and check on the status of the pension and her son’s induction into his father’s job. Today, ten years later, Karthika still haunts the office for the pension and her son’s job. She has sold off her house, land and cows to pay various people in the office as instructed by the Trade Union Ravi was a member of, to get her files moving. Her younger daughters have grown up and after their SSLC got employment in a Housekeeping Services company. Her son does odd jobs in the hope of getting that coveted government job soon. He is in his thirties now, married with a kid.

If you are wondering why Karthika did not approach the courts, then you will be surprised to know that people like Karthika are a tribe in themselves. They are simple people, intimidated and or impressed or plain awed by offices and officers and people of power and education. They trust anything told to them by people posing to be well wishers. They think the pseudo concern and reassurances shown by the parasites in the office and union are genuine and do their utmost to arrange money as and when asked by these parasites. And these parasites have been living off people like her for years. They are fully aware that she and people like her have no money, but think nothing of asking her five hundred rupees every six months to get her file moving.

And the Karthika’s out there are more than happy to beg or borrow that money to oblige the nice rotund pot bellied gentleman sitting on the Godrej Chair and table sipping Coffee while they stand hands clasped after handing over the envelope. After every visit to the office, there is a spring in their step and a look of hope in her eyes. Meanwhile the five hundred and the other five hundreds given by the other Karthikas will keep Mr. Government Servant’s Bar stocked and car running till the next visit of the Karthikas. There are many people out there living off people like Karthika. Try this stunt in the union less rural areas of other States of India and you will be surprised that it will not work. The reason is not because they are squeaky clean, but because the illiterates have a conscience and feel pity for poor widows, while the literates of GOC think they are easy picking for some nice side money.

This is a true story. Recently my uncle and aunt took up her case when they got to know of her plight when she came to them for the job of a maid. With my Uncles political connection her pension was released and her son got the job after the person appointed by the Union in the job was transferred to another office. While my Uncle was walking in and out of several government offices getting the mess sorted out, he was witness to many Karthikas coming in with envelopes and leaving with hopes in their eyes.

Wedded to a cause than the man!

When my eldest brother finished his studies, there was a spate of weddings amongst his batch mates. These were boys from families, who believed in getting their sons married early. Soon after the wedding, the newlyweds would drop in home as my parents would invite them for a customary meal. And as is the custom in my house and most Bangalore Christian homes, alcoholic drinks would be amongst the choice of beverages available for the guests male and female. Some of these guys would have a small drink hesitatingly. Some would refuse altogether. My brother understood and would not press guys who did not want to drink in front of their wives.

Soon, wifey in the enthusiasm of a new bride will start putting down the law. No drinking and no smoking. She thinks she will have the eternal devotion and love of her husband with her concern for his health. What happens instead is a stupid battle of the sexes that sours relations and throws the romance out of the marriage forever.

In the first flush of marriage hubby listens to his devoted wife often gushing over her concern and the stability marriage has bought in his life. Soon he has a drink with his friends or team mates at some occasion or office outing. Then he goes home and faces the wrath, tears or sulks of the wife. Then he starts wondering what the big deal was in an occasional drink! He doesn’t realize the notions wifey carries in her head that it is her duty to correct his supposedly “erring” ways. Constant reminders not to drink puts him in a defensive mood as he resents the nagging. The wife in turn makes this a cause célèbre and thinks that hubby is just being stubborn and needs a firmer hand to get out the habit. In her mind, this would be her success as a wife. If you were to question her at this juncture, she would have no clue as to why she was acting thus. She would probably say that it was her duty or alcohol was injurious to health or something like that. Some were misinformed that an occasional drink will lead to Cirrhosis. However most treated it as their duty as wives to stop it.

Soon wife resembles the nagging Mom and we have two people who wonder when or how the romance went out of their lives. He will complain to his friends about her nagging and drink on the sly or belligerently in front of her. She will complain that he doesn’t care anymore. Single friends who witness this drama count their lucky stars that they are single. Some prolong singlehood so that they can have some more time of peace. For most of these guys from traditional families or small town, wedding means restrictions.

Alcohol ironically without being drunk in excess cause problems in these families!

I blame the girls squarely and their upbringing and Hindi movies for this. Hindi movies portrayal of men is the most misleading and makes millions of Indian women believe that men are people with no brains who can easily be misled by friends to destruction and women are people who should protect them and if gone “astray” ( read: have an occasional drink) bring them around. Then the men are shown as being eternally grateful and devoted to their wives and following them around them like a puppy singing songs and buying her sarees! To top it all the women in these movies shed their smart clothing for the boring saree, sindoor and mangal sutra and a demure demeanor to boot and you wonder what the guy finds so attractive in her now when he was romancing her smarter self a few reels ago!! The whole portrayal sends out wrong messages and reality in the form of man a.k.a husband is a bitter pill to take for these girls. They persist however, as shown in the movie, driving deeper wedges in the relationship.

Most of these girls have strange notions of the word “Wife”. They think, cooking and cleaning and keeping a swanky house is being a wife. They think correcting their hubby and fussing over him is being wifely. They think hubby’s approval and praise of their cooking skills and housekeeping skills is their life’s mission! And a few years down the line, when hubby is used to the pampering and now thinks it his right, she joins the millions of women grumbling about being treated like an ayah and cook! I don’t know who puts the notion into their head that they are supposed to take over from their mother in laws and that their men expect it!! I wish someone would tell them that a wife is a live in girl friend and the household chores of the shared house are to be equally divided amongst them!

Over the years I have noticed something very interesting. Married girls in the family or acquaintance or neighborhood circle who are criticized by the elderly ladies for not cooking or keeping smart homes, are the happiest and contended wives I know. They do not have the burden of expectations on them of running the home or cooking and hubby who is used to this from the beginning is an adjustable guy who would not think twice about an empty fridge and grab a bite on the way home than pampered men of traditional wives, who make life miserable for their wives if the home and hearth were upto the mark and the table laden with piping hot food.

Like someone wise said, happiness and sadness is all in our own hands!

They serve too who serve quietly!

The Kal, Aaj aur Kal Tag

I have been tagged by Bluediamond (what a lovely name!!)

The Tag

Two questions from the past, present and future. Answer them and then tag your friends from the blog-o-sphere. Leave a comment on their blog letting them know they have been tagged and you are done.

Yesterday

Your oldest memories...

My oldest memories are of Kindergarten! The beautiful bougainvillea flowers that abounded everywhere, the swings, the laughter, the fun and the pampering by the Nuns, maids and senior girls.

I had chubby cheeks and endured lot of painful moments as people pinched them. Once I declared I would not go to school anymore and my parents had to talk to the teacher to ensure that the senior girls did not pinch my cheeks and go "Cho chweet"

What were you doing ten years ago?

I was in a school play. Our class did a tableau. It was a cricket scene. I had to don the whites of some cricketer who had lots of chest hair. This is girl’s school mind you. We had no clue how to do that. Finally we ended up cutting hair from girls with long hair and sticking them on my chest with glue. It kept itching and I kept scratching and a pit stop team had to be constituted for quick replacement of chest hair. Thank god I was quite young and flat chested then! The joke hit us when we reached 10th std and one day the teachers and other students thought a bunch of 10th standard girls had lost it as they rolled on the sports field laughing, tears coming out of theirs eyes for the whole lunch hour. We kept on giggling over it for a couple of weeks, driving teachers mad.

p.s in 9th std I had to play a guy again. It was the most painful half an hour in my life. Try wrapping yourself like a mummy to look flat chested. Brrr Oh those all girls school!!! The things we did to look like guys for plays and skits would make those Xtreme makeover guys hang themselves from the nearest tree in shame!

Today

Realized I had been tagged. Decided I won’t do it as I am suffering from Tag Toxic Syndrome. But when I read it I immediately wanted to do it! So attended to my morning work and wrote the tag.

If you build a time capsule what would it contain?

A CD with both the blogs copied on it. Family album, my grandmas book of traditional recipes, a laptop etc.

Tomorrow

...is Friday! Yipeeeeeeeeee!

What do you see yourself doing 14 years from now?

Driving hubby and kids crazy! I will be the craziest wife and mom in town. And perhaps the most fun too. I can visualize my kids saying "Now ma behave yourself!!"

I tag,

Thommu
Philip
Mathew
Confucius
Abhi
Al Ameen
Karthik S
Rakesh Vanamali
Emmanuel
& Sriram

p.s if you haven't voted yet, please vote for M.A.D ( see post below). Last date for voting is 11th Nov. Thank you!

Music - Hawa ke Saath Saath

Your vote counts for many kids!

Make A Difference (M.A.D) is a youth volunteer network that currently functions in the three cities of Cochin, Pune and Chennai… 312 volunteers teach more than 1200 underprivileged kids English and computer skills in these three cities to enable them to have better career prospects...
These children live in street shelters and orphanages. Without proper guidance, their lives will go astray. MAD makes sure that they have the proper life skills to make it in life. Then MAD tries to get them placed at jobs where they can live their potential...

MAD was recently picked as one of fifteen finalists for the international Youth Social Entrepreneur Awards which is a prestigious award bestowed by the Ashoka group. MAD became the only Indian entry in this competition in spite of 521 nominations from 60 odd countries. The final winner will be picked by online voting.

Lets try and bring pride to our country by spreading word about the achievements of our countrymen. To stand up and be recognized in such a multi-faced international crowd is an achievement in itself.

Please vote now!

Post and link courtesy - Kenny Jacob !