womens' day ....... and the hidden genocide!!

According to figures, for the last 6 years, on an average 3,000 girls are killed everyday in India, because of foetal sex determination done by unethical medical practioners. Today, we are celebrating womens day. Sadly, there wont be any reduction in these figures, neither today, nor from tomorrow.

Anyways, today will be a day of some more tamasha across the country. A listless and expressionless sonia Gandhi, aided by her trusted woman Friday, ambika soni, will remain busy throughout, inaugurating programs for women, gracing podiums, receiving bouquets, and reading some more so called ‘extempore speeches.’ Prominent female politicians from other political parties, will do their bit in achieving nothing constructive.
Not to be left behind, the male politicians will also show off their capacity to contribute towards the well being of the Indian woman. There will be plenty of activity at all levels, across the country, and the media will be at its busiest.

And the “aam naari” will wonder…is this all really necessary? Will it help where it is needed most? Will the 1-per-day rapes in our capital, and those taking place elsewhere, stop? Will greedy animals stop burning brides? Will village panchayats stop parading a woman from the lower caste, naked in front of all village folks, for committing a small “mistake” like entering a temple, or expressing her love for a man of the upper caste? Will child prostitution and female trafficking to middle east countries stop? Will eve teasing stop? Will the women folk of these country EVER have their lunch earlier than the men? Will the woman get the respect from the opposite sex, that she very much deserves? And finally, will she ever be treated at par with a man? I guess, as a general statement, the answer is a sad NO to all the above questions.

Just 2 random examples – most of you know devchand from my yesterday’s post. After he got married, when he resumed office, I remember asking him casualy whether he was enjoying his married life. And his reply shocked me. He said “ anandbhai, I have told my wife, that if she wants to live in my house, she should never raise her voice against me, should obey me always, and she wont have any say in any kind of decision making!” and this was within a few days of getting married ! !

second – my maternal grandmother used to tell us, when I was a kid. She was born in karad village in maharashtra. When she was a kid, I guess in 1930s, during lunch time, only the menfolk used to get the chapattis, later on the women would eat rice, and maybe a few chapattis, if they were left ! ! doesn’t it say a lot about the way we treat a woman? One who is supposed to be a ghar ki laxmi?

I have an unusual idea, I wrote this to a national daily some 2 years back. Instead of carrying out with the useless activities on womens day, take a radical decision. Let people call it outlandish, always remember, every revolution in this world, however big or small, started with one small idea! Dissolve both the houses of parliament, and for a complete 5 years term, allow an all women loksabha, and rajyasabha to run and manage this country. Forget 33% reservation, make it 100% reservation for a full 5 year term. I am confident, the fairer sex will do a much better job, and quite a few problems that have been ailing our country for long, will have permanent solutions.

Do you know why this will never happen? Cos our men are worried, that after 5 years are over, people will want this womens’ government to run for another 5 years. The phrase “anti incumbency” will go for a toss!

intution? .... this one takes the cake, for sure!

This true incident dates back to june 1994. I had just returned from Saudi Arabia, and was happy to be working for a baroda based company called sigma instruments. I was into instrumentation sales, and once had to visit a client in vashi, Mumbai. On the previous evening, in the office, as I was getting ready with the preparations for the meeting on the next day in vashi, our despatch clerk, mr devchand, came to me with a cover,

“ anandbhai, this is to be sent to a client in vashi, quite near to where you are going. Why don’t you hand deliver it, since you are going all the way upto vashi?” I said to devchand “ arre yaar why don’t you give it to our regular courier guy, it will reach there in 20 rs, tomorrow morning, and I don’t have to go to this place specially for delivering a cover”.

“anand bhai, have a look at the address, it seems very closeby, looks like the next building to where you will be going…..and since you are going upto vashi…..” devchand was his usual persistent self. I wasn’t too keen to argue with him, so tried one last attempt, by casualy saying to devchand, “ come on devchand….i am leaving by tonite’s train. What if, while going to baroda rly stn, my auto suddenly overturns? so let the cover go at least by courier.....” “hey bhagwan!! anandbhai, don’t say such strange things, has your auto ever overturned in last so many years? Or have you heard autos overturning, just like that….?”

“ ok ok devchand….give me the cover, and I will do the job, first thing tomorrow morning”
I then went home, spent some time with family, packed for my 4 day tour, and as I have done for n number of times, and finally hired an auto from just near my home at around 10 pm, to go to the rly stn. This might sound bizarre to most of you. Just as we approached race course circle, the auto had to take a right turn, and there were black-n-white divider stones kept in the centre of the road. While taking a turn, somehow the driver erred in his judgement, took a sharper right turn, and the rear right wheel hit the first of the divider stones. I heard a loud thud and a jolt too, and before I could react, the auto, getting lifted from the right side, turned turtle within a second. Me and the driver were upside down.

The traffic near racecourse circle at this time of the hour was sparse, and as we tried to get ourselves out of the tangle, help arrived in form of a few passersby. I had badly bruised my forehead, right side of my face, and right arm, elbow and all. After primary inspection of myself, I realized I needed medical attention, and there was no point in going to Mumbai now. The poor auto driver was bruised too, and was trying to figure out how he could do this.

I came home, and,accompanied by my wife, went to our family doctor, woke him up in fact. He attended to me with some dressing, an injection as a precaution etc, and I went to bed. Next day I was feeling a bit roughed up, but still by afternoon, decided to go to the office. As expected, everyone in the office was shocked to see me. Devchand was the first to ask what had happened. And when I told him my auto did a flip-flop the previous night, I wish I had a camera to capture the expression on his face!

GOPALBHAI MIGHT PAY....... SOME DAY!!

I distinctly remember it was a December night. As baroda is at its chilliest best in December, with night temperatures hovering around 10 degrees, and dropping at times to as low as 7 or 8 degrees. I was coming back from my second shift. I was in IPCL, then, my first job. The company bus, dropped us at the southern main gate of the township, from where I had to walk about just over a km and half, to reach home.
I decided to take a short cut, crossed through the stadium ground, and went around the stands. From here I had to reach the club, which was across the road at the end of the stands, and from there another 2 mins and I would be home.

The entire stretch of about 100 metres of narrow road behind the stands, was sort of eerie, with almost 5 feet tall shrubage growing on one side of the road, and only one dimly lit tubelight to provide some relief, to less fearless people like me, especially on dark no-moon nights, which it was incidentally. I attributed this co-incidence to murphy’s law, smiled at myself, and started to walk, humming “pal pal dil ke paas………” to keep me some company! I was halfway down this narrow road, when I heard footsteps behind me. A bit nervous, I turned back to see a tall and lean man, limping slightly, walking towards me. In a flash, I had images of all those limping guys, from those suspense flicks, thanks to Hitchcock, Ramsay and the likes. A bit anxious and tense, I hastened my steps, and was shocked to see over my shoulders, that he did the same too. Now I was scared, and almost broke into a run, and a hanuman chalisa, at the same time! And then I heard him call me, “anandbhai !” a guy from the horror movies, knows my name too??? I stopped, and gathered some courage, and decided to check him out.

As he neared me, I was surprised to see it was gopalbhai, our gardener! Gopalbhai, was with us for last almost 20 years, and knew me since I was a baby literally. He was almost like family, doing other odd jobs for us as well. I asked him what was he doing at this hour? He told me that he just wanted to meet me, was going home late, saw me cross the ground, and so came after me. He said “ anandbhai , I am sorry I am not able to return the 600 rupees that I had borrowed from you last month”. I was amused, and told him that it was ok and he need not bother about it, and this was neither the place, nor the time, to mention that. But he somehow expressed his regret at not being able to return the amount on time, and said sorry repeatedly. I finally told him not to bother much, and go home, and pay me back whenever he had the money.

Saying this, I continued on my way, and saw him turning back too, it was then that I recognised his familiar limp.Wondering as to why gopalbhai was so repentant today, and that too at this strange hour, at not being able to pay on time, I didn’t realize when I reached home. I rang the doorbell to find my father open the door. He was wrapped in a towel, just out of the bathroom. Ii queried "baba! How come you are having a bath at this hour? Its almost close to midnight!"

With a sombre face, he replied “ I just came back from the funeral. Our gopalbhai expired this morning!”

FELT LIKE A GOD.......IN GOD'S OWN COUNTRY!

As I waited in the bus, already packed, there was still some time left before we would depart. My friend, a keralite, had gone to pick up a news paper. We were at ernakulam central bus stand, and the destination was koothatakulam. I could never pronounce this name, the way keralites do it, but then I asked my friend to write it down for me, and now after so many years, 17, to be precise, I still seem to remember the spelling. I have always felt that all names have a sanctity of their own, and should never be misspelt.

As I looked out of the window, absorbing the noisy scenes, and the chaotic commotion, typical to all bus stands, a dapper looking girl, wearing a typical keralite dress resembling a gujarati chaniya choli, entered the crowded bus with a bunch of cards. She must be in her early teens, and had bright doe like eyes. They all have those dazzling, poetic eyes in the southern part of the country.

One of these days I will dedicate a full post, on the crush I had on all those attractive acresses from the south, once upon a time, during my Kuwait days…… from suhasini, shobhana, to revathy, amala, to gauthami, ambika etc. and all because of those inquisitive, and talkative eyes…!!

This girl distributed all the cards amongst the passengers in the bus.I also got one card from her. She then left the bus. I tried to figure out what was written on the card, it was all latin to me. So, not knowing what to do, on an impulse, I let the card slide out of the window. To my surprise, this girl returned after a few minutes, and started to collect the cards back. All the passengers, silently gave the cards back to her, some also offering 1 or 2 rupee coins with it. woww what a novel way of begging ! this too was an effect of the high literacy rate this state enjoys, i thought to myself, and this high tech begging was new to me. When the girl came to me, I was a bit stumped, but then I indicated I had thrown the card out of the window. At that moment, this docile looking creature turned into a chandika, and started to abuse me in the choices of malayalam explicitives, she kept on and on for a few minutes, till a fellow passenger talked to her in Malayalam, he must have asked her to pick up the card from outside the bus, and close the chapter. It was only then that she left, but not before she gave me a long and acidic stare, with the same doe-like eyes, that looked so attractive to me a few minutes ago.

And then my friend entered, carrying the local English daily, and 2 huge bananas. Or banana pakoras I should call them. They were slit length wise, stuffed with jaggery and grated coconut, and deep fried in a batter made of rice flour. Its an ultimate delicacy, you must try them someday. So then, I explained the whole episode to my friend and he had a hearty laugh, at my expense. Finally the rickety bus departed, and very soon we were going past chequered paddy fields, dotted with palm trees, swaying gently in the December breeze. An amusing incident in the bus, had kick started my divine 6 day journey into god’s own country……..

OUTDOORS IN INDORE!

In a not-so-short career spanning almost 24 years, I have travelled to half a dozen countries, and seen most of india too.. Being into sales and marketing, for over 15 years now, it has given me ample opportunities to interact with people from a variety of cultural background, and visit many many places. Fortunately for me, I love to eat, so it has been a satisfying gastronomical experience too.
Out of all these cities, and towns, and vilages, I have really enjoyed my stay in indore to the fullest. Mainly due to 2 reasons. People are good, and food is excellent. 2 major reasons for me to vouch for indore.the common man on the streets, be it the autowallah, or the shopkeeper, or just a passerby, is very friendly, and nornally treats you with a smile. something which is rare in a generally conservative nation like india where breaking into an impromptu smile at total strangers is considered a crime!
i was in a british county, called oxfordshire, last july, for a few days. After having a traditional and sumptuous english breakfast of bacon & friend eggs, we had some 20 mins with us before our host wud come and pick us up. as me, and my friend stood on the roadside, in the pleasant morning, absorbing the inclement english sunshine, i was stunned to see that most passersby nodded their heads at us very courteously, putting up a tight lipped, yet warm smile at us, many of them very old, both ladies, and gents. I find this trait simply amazing! I hopelessly wish we could pick up some courtesy from them.
coming back…., i have been to indore dozens of times, and the second thing i like about this city is the roadside eatery. Eating out is simply a pleasure here.You get some delicious and tasty stuff like aloo tikki, chhole puri, kachoris etc. the major attraction for me is the delicious "pohe", and jalebi made of asli ghee. If you venture out in the mornings, every 50 feet or so, along the road, you will see a huge kadhai heaped with a mountainfull of pohe.and one plate of pohe comes in a wide variety, accompanied with "usal", plain dahi, or namkeen sev, topped with coriander, anardaana, and lemon juice to add to the zing, and make it look very attractive.for people who have a sweet tooth, the fun of eating out doesnt end there. one can visit the saraafa area after 10 pm, and you can get the best of sweets, gulab jamuns, rabdi, especially badaam-pista-kesar flavored piping hot milk, and a thick and heavy shikanjee.

"chappan dukaan", as it is popularly known, is another area for foodies. it is literally a row of 56 shops serving a wide variety of food from chaat to chinese, to sweets to south indian, all at a reasonable rate, and everything is simply mouth watering. Everytime I visit this city of holkars, I anticipate an increase in these shops to more than 56, but it is still “ab tak chappan” !
any visit to indore is always eagerly awaited, i can just feel the aroma of fresh pohe run up my nostrils. so much for this nice n cool place, with some lovely food, and with people, carrying a generous smile and no attitude!

wisdom, wadas, and weekend with natarajan!

i spent 5 wonderful years of my life, in kuwait, from 1987 to 1992. worked in an oil refinery, looking after the maintenance of online process gas analysers. we lived in a 3 bedroom flat, and everyone else, other than me, in this flat, was from tamilnadu. by the time i returned to india, my mother cud never understand how can a guy return from a 5 yrs stint in an arab country, and be so used to sambar-n-rice! i owe it all to the excellent, and exotic culinary skills of my senior colleague mr s natarajan. i was a 25 yr old bachelor then, and natarajan was in his early forties. a man of wisdom, and exceedingly good at conjuring up some amazing traditional tamil recipes, i loved to spend time with him. we had a 5 day week, and on thursday mornings, natarajan used to prepare a huge pile of parappu wadai, or daal wadas, made out of chana daal, for all of us. i used to be with him during this whole process, in the kitchen. every minute spent with natarajan was a learning experience for me. he was an ocean of knowledge, whether u ask him anything from our religious scriptures, communism in russia, the civil war in the usa, our independence struggle, etc etc.weekends in kuwait were thursday n friday. we would get up early on thursday mornings too, while every one else slept, the preparation for the wadas wud begin. it wud start with him bringing his cassette player in the kitchen, and play some lilting ilayaraja numbers, or at times, he would play "suprabhatam". then he wud begin the wada process, first he would meticulously chop the onion very fine, grind the daal soaked in water overnight. next he used to grind black pepper, lots of it, coarse. he said one shud feel the pepper cracking under our teeth while eating the wadas!! mix all the above, along with salt, chopped coriander, finely chopped ginger, lots of curry leaves, and grated coconut. believe me friends, i am yet to forget the aroma of these divine wadas.and while the process wud go on i used to ask him questions, mainly on our scriptures, since he knew a lot. i remember asking him once, the reason behind hindu women putting kumkum or a bindi on the forehead. was it just to do with fashion or was there more to it? he gave me a wonderful analogy. this is what he said to me:a woman was the head of the home. lets compare the home with the universe. look at what happens in the mornings. the head of the universe, the SUN, rises early in the morning. as the sun rises, there is a crimson glow at the top first, as if nature is laying a crimson carpet for the chief guest to arrive. and then slowly the sun appears, it is crimson too. and once the sun rises, the whole world rises with it. the sun provides the energy to everyone, as people go about their daiily chores. it controls everything from the top, it is the undisputed boss for the entire day. finally at dusk, the lord decides to call it a day, taking away the red carpet, and the crimson ball with it.similarly, early morning, the lady of the house gets up first, puts a red bindi on her forehead, which resembles the sun, puts some more sindoor at the parting of the hair, this resembling the crimson glow, and goes about taking charge of the home, waking up everyone, providing them with energy(food), being in control of things, managing the entire home,and in the evenings, or at the end of the day, a job well completed, the lady goes to bed, taking off the crimson bindi, along with the sindoor. a very unusual, but an interesting comparison. you know something? sharing a secret with you all here. my respect for the lady of the house increased after hearing this explanation from natarajan.incidentally, natarajan and wife now live in trichy. with both the sons well settled, he has now retired from service. and i do miss his wisdom, and his wadas. weekends will never be the same.....