Making sense of the world.
Archive for August, 2010
A lot can happen over chewing gum..
Aug 31st
I took a bus from Bangalore city to the Ashram, which is like a half an hour ride towards the outskirts. All the seats but one were occupied, the one right next to the driver, there was a man sitting there. I went and sat next to him. The bus started to crawl, and i mean literally, alas! one of the signature bus rides of India, and as a cherry on top, the man sitting next to me reeked of booze, and not the mild smell of vodka, or a deep smell of whisky, but the smell of rotten organs due to heavy intake of pure ‘desi’ all through the day and night and whatever lies between these. He reeked booze through his nostrils, through his ears, through the pores of his skin, even his aura stunk of booze. ‘Oh my God’ I thought, ‘what have I done to go through this nasal, leading to mental trauma?’ I tried to slide the window open, but it wouldn’t, ‘its a conspiracy’ i thought, I put on my earphones and switched on some music on my phone to distract myself, but as the name says ‘earphones’, it just blocked my ears, my nostrils were still exposed to this intense smell of highly infectious local liquid that reeked through this man’s existence. ‘Am I going to die?’ ‘will I lose my consciousness?’ ‘will I go into a limbo?’ these crazy thoughts surrounded my mind and were seeping in and I almost went into a blur.
Ten minutes the bus had covered, it seemed like a lifetime full of broken promises of roses, daffodils and lavender. I wanted to ask him what he had for breakfast, but i thought that wouldn’t change the present that stunk, so, the good cultured me, dug into my bag and took out a pack of Wrigley’s spearmint gum, and offered two sticks to him. He looked at me as if I was offering him poison, i nodded my head like you do when you’re offering something to a small kid. He again gave me that look with his booze drenched eyes, but stretched his hand and took the gum from me, opened it somehow, looked at it and put it in his mouth. I popped two in my mouth too, to give him the notion that it wasn’t poison, and if it was, I would die with him, as if I wasn’t experiencing death anyways. I could see by the way he chewed that he never had chewing gum before in his entire life, I wish they would give chewing gums complimentary with ‘desi daaru’. So after chewing for some thirty seconds, he gave me a smile, his drunken eyes opened a bit more and he nodded his head in acceptance of the fresh flavor he had in his mouth for a change. He kept smiling as he chewed it, he seemed to love the taste and the elasticity of the gum, and he said something in Kannada. I told him i didn’t understand Kannada, so he said ‘bahut tasty’ and giggled again.
21st Century Breakdown
Aug 27th
A recent conversation with an old friend turned to people we’d known during our university days. These are the people who had fought hard and smart for the most coveted positions, for the well-paid, high-profile careers. They are now married, and expecting or attending to their offspring. The women especially are now more than happy to trade notes on teething problems rather than the latest BP crisis in the Gulf of Mexico. It made me think.
Do we really not have to be feminists anymore, because our grandmothers and mothers fought that war for us?
When visiting Italy a while ago, a classmate and close friend confided that although she was as qualified and more experienced than her husband, it would be unheard of for her to choose her work over staying at home and looking after the children. This, in a First World country where even the toilets are automated!
On Saturdays we’d stroll through the morning markets, people-watching. An oddity struck me again and again – over-30 women with babies, toddlers, or pregnant. Rarely did one see a young mother. In contrast, most parents with children under the age of five, in India, would be young grandparents or at least parents of teenagers! It seems that for women to juggle careers and home is becoming more of an impossibility, so many choose to finish their careers by their early-to-mid thirties, and then be wives and mothers. Again, an either-or scenario.
Installing LOVE
Aug 22nd
What program are you running in your heart? Here is something I came across some time ago on the net. Don’t know who wrote it, but glad it got written. Enjoy!
Call Centre Rep (CS Rep): Yes, ma’am, how can I help you?
Customer: I want to install love. Can you guide me?
CS Rep: Yes ma’am. Are you ready to proceed?
Customer: Well, I’m not very technical, but I think I’m ready to install now. What do I do first?
CS Rep: The first step is to open your HEART. Have you located your HEART ma’am?
Customer: Yes I have, but there are other programs running right now. Is it okay to install while they are running?
CS Rep: What programs are running ma’am?
Customer: Let’s see. I have PAST-HURT.EXE, LOW-ESTEEM.EXE, GRUDGE.EXE, and RESENTMENT.COM running right now.
CS Rep: No problem. LOVE will gradually erase PAST-HURT.EXE from your operating system. It may remain in your permanent memory, but it will no longer disrupt other programs. LOVE will eventually overwrite LOW-ESTEEM.EXE with a module of its own called HIGH-ESTEEM.EXE. However, you have to completely remove GRUDGE.EXE and RESENTMENT.COM. Those programs prevent LOVE from being properly installed. Can you remove those ma’am?
Customer: Can you tell me how?
Throwaway Babies
Aug 16th
© Marek Kosmal | Dreamstime.com
The morning sun stared down at the rotting heap of garbage, one among millions across the land. A giant rat nibbled at some food, keeping a wary eye on three dogs busy cracking bones nearby. Two hungry crows pecked away at the contents of a bulging polythene bag.
A man in a white dhoti walked by, freshly bathed. He glanced at the heap, and his eyes opened wide. Did he see right? He turned and looked again. There was no mistaking it. A tiny hand stuck out of the filthy mass. And then it was gone, as his steps quickened towards the temple in the distance. The child must have been born at a most inauspicious, star-crossed moment.
A morning walker came along, Nike shoes striding forward. He pinched his nose, looking distastefully at the putrid collection. When would India change? Memories of last week’s trip to the US came back to mind. Then he stopped, shocked. A little infant lay curled up in the garbage. Must be dead. He recalled reading about abandoned babies. A glance at his chronometer told him to keep moving. Not much he could do. Like the garbage heaps, this was another thing about India that will take time to change, if ever. Too bad. And the walker walked on.
The bai stopped and stared. She knew of newborn females thrown away, just like that. Newly arrived, but unwelcome and unwanted. And so, mercilessly dispatched. She remembered a neighbor telling her of someone she knew who had adopted such a baby. One of the dogs was dangerously close to the filth covered infant. Shooing them away, she hurried off to her work of cooking and cleaning. She didn’t want to be late or lose the job. But she hurriedly made a call from the public phone in the corner shop further on.
By the time Babu and his wife arrived on the scene, the dogs were sniffing at the infant. Parking his bike, he shouted away the dogs. He scooped up the infant in his hands. The baby was alive, barely. His wife took the little body and wrapped it in a clean sheet she had brought. Then they sped away.
On India’s 64th Independence Day, the abandoned baby crossed her 22nd month of life. A cute and healthy child, no one looking at her would guess her tragic beginnings. For her foster parents she is one of their own. Anugrah they call her. And as they watch her play with their other children, they offer a silent thanksgiving for the gift of life, and the gift of love.