Happy to be part of South Asian Challenge 2011

Entered the South Asian Challenge 2011 today.I know I am very late in doing so but considering my voracious appetite for books,I know I will not do bad and will soon catch up.Next few months are going to be fun as I will mostly be reading books by South Asian authors ,my favorites anyways.

  I wandered through many book blogs before I stumbled upon S.Krishna's blog  and loved every bit of it.Taking up the challenge was kind of natural progression so here I am...

  My list is almost ready and so is the sequence .Excited?You bet.Wish me happy reading guys!

Parenting teenagers!! Of Missing things and Missing beings!

Parenting a teenager can be quite a daunting task as most will agree.There can be daily doses of amazement, joy and frustrations.All parents to teenagers (PTT) suddenly start feeling the heat morning after their 'child's 12th birthday.Certain two way things overnight take the one way route like,
Communication-

                                                                courtesy google images
Teenagers are walnuts, you get habituated to talking to walls and dealing with nuts and them being tough nuts to crack comes free.You waiiit for your turn to be given a ear which has been hijacked by a headphone or an earphone or a mobile phone with a phony friend at the other end  or all of them at once.So the moment you feel even a fraction of a second that the ear is devoid of any  of  these attachments,you shoot from your mouth-brush your teeth,have bath,change into something nice,and HI THIS IS MOM REMEMBER!!!
Do not wait for any response from the other end ,it is not happening in this world of teens literally and otherwise.
Traffic-One way and that is out mostly and in very rarely in.Inward traffic, singular or plural in terms of company means,immediate plans for an outward trip,urgent need to use the loo or kitchen, and of course dire need of cash .
Cash-PTT has to be extra vigilant in case of the last need as cash flow acquires a directly proportional trait - outwards mostly.It is perfectly normal to feel incompetent  financially (amongst other things) during this period.You might actually start earning more to cope with the demand and that certainly is an advantage, whose??...your guess is as good as mine!
          In addition to the above,the frequent and extended trips to the restroom is like an endless wait for the PTT.One trip ends and the other begins.Every PTT learns to grab the attention of  the teen sometime after  a few foiled attempts.A patient teenager(they exist I swear!!) once clarified that the  term 'rest room' was coined by a teenager and that they were just that,-rest -rooms to rest the nerves after the naggings of  the world in general and PTT in particular.Rest rooms are  perfect havens for, chatting with friends,cooing to girlfriend/boyfriend ,listening to earth-shattering music,and the last one really had me ROTFL ..thinking (do they ,really!?? )
           Every PTT should get used to strange figures and faces inhabiting his /her house.They  usually mean no serious harm.Just stay focussed and hug and kiss your own sleeping teen in the morning for your own safety.A sleeping teen is an angel and you are guaranteed to be rewarded with return affectionate gestures only in this form .An awake teenager acquires a walnut form if you know what I mean. A cooperative,patient,eager to listen ,talkative teenager means only one thing..a big dent into your resources and it is now your turn to switch into the walnut mode.Efficacy into this mode is directly proportional to resiliency.Best of luck!

                                                                       courtesy google images
  No attempt to be cool in your teen's eyes will ever make you cool.So and so's PTT will always be cooler than you .Stop trying,you are better off being uncool.Get habituated to filling your kitchen larder,wardrobe,cosmetic shelves and of course cash boxes without cribbing.I once made the mistake of cribbing aloud in front of my dad as to how I was fed up of forever missing things in my house .."You'll wish there was someone to use things after a decade. Its much  better than missing beings beta! Soak in the experience while you can ,once they spurt wings and fly away,you'll yearn for these very things in life."he said without looking up from his morning paper.
          How true and how painful!!
            
                
        
        

The W(hole ) toilet story !

I am reposting this last years post  after watching  Satyamev Jayate this morning where a lot was discussed about manual scavenging in rural India. I end the post with what I saw on my recent visit to a mall in Bangkok. 

Dad called to inform that our ancestral home in Rajasthan was sold .He was sad,and his voice coveyed so.It took me back to my lone trip to that house in childhood .Dad was excited like a school boy,he had springs in his shoes and if normally we could'nt keep pace with him,you can imagine the scene that day.
It was a typical village house in all other aspects except that it stretched vertically more than horizontally.We were welcomed by Prem kakaji and before we could absorb the details of the  courtyard and the circular living rooms he announced that the weary travellers were free to freshen up before tea could be served and added with a smile that the toilets were on the second floor.
Second floor ! and we  ran up the stairs two at a time , falling over each other in the race to reach the second floor toilets.What is so special about second floor toilets ,one would ask? The mystery will unfold after I elaborate a little on the toilet scene of rural India .

As kids on our annual vacation to Rajasthan we would extensively travel in scorching summers to remote rural areas with our parents.We loved every bit of those explorations except ,you guessed it right,-toilets!
Toilets were built at the extreme end of the huge property .Running from the ancestral Haveli on the sandy grounds, down to the toilet cubicles was strenuous . We hated the exercise and preferred holding back!
That every morning struggle would leave us constipated by the end of our trip and back home in the city, we thought of our toilets as pure luxury . The parched landscape also meant paucity of water and hence no taps were to be found inside and one had to carry a small bucket of water from the 'Haud' . Every morning people ran across the sand balancing a bucket of water to relieve their systems .
Once  we  reached the toilet complex,what followed next was a  series of forced coughing sounds emanating from the several occupied cubicles indicating human presence. So one  coughed and someone coughed back and he  moved on to the next till his cough met with silence  and that is where he was supposed to enter.

The cubicle was adorned with two rough, slipper shaped stones to rest your feet  and in the center was a huge hole .The  street below could be seen or worse even, a grunting pig or a sweeping scavenger would insert his shovel beneath  while you were busy . The trained staff however, kept the area very clean and I do not remember the whole experience as  'disgusting' as it may sound now.
The w(hole)experience made one  feel extremely vulnerable.Our daily wish in those days-- kaash! the human excretory system did not have to work on a daily basis.Now praying and all is a pious thing to do and toilet is the last place one would feel like praying but all my prayers were saved for the toilet part those days..
God please let me not feel the pressure today,
or...
God give me strength to control the pressure etc..
That pretty much was the toilet scene in the seventies in rural Rajasthan.

Coming back to that particular trip to the ancestral home,it seemed to be a pleasant surprise .A second floor toilet,wow!!Jostling ,elbowing each other we ran up to be greeted by a very nice carved door .The eldest cousin managed to push himself inside ahead of others and seconds later we heard him laugh like a mad man. Moments later he came out . Curiosity took over our frames and we all peeped in only to be greeted by the all familiar sight of  the famous 'hole'. It dropped all the way from second floor straight to the ground. It was kind of concealed from direct vision but nevertheless ,a hole.
So much for the great expectations!!
         
            ______________________________XXXX_________________________


In complete contrast to what I had described a year ago , is what follows next in this post.Last week while shopping at the Terminal 21 mall in Bangkok,I entered the wash room with my daughter and took my own sweet time coming out of the cubicle.This is what I saw and this is what caught my attention..

     The Hi-tech toilet bowl complete with numerous settings on a control panel was awesome to say the least.I am not ashamed to admit that I tried every thing displayed there and that is what kept me engaged for a long time.I also noticed that everyone who went in took longer than usual and came out smiling.                                                        

                                                     
                                      Particularly liked the temperature control and dry options.

                                       
There was no room for confusion , a nice panel with instructions to use the system was strategically placed on the wall.

                                                      Images- curtesy Google, as my pics were hastily taken and not sharp.   

 Once outside the loo, I was so lost in my total admiration of the basin area  beautifully done up in a unique marine theme that I almost entered the men's loo on my way out . Daughter's quick tug at my arm saved me from the embarrassment.

You may laugh at me but I had a detailed 'dekho' at all the wash rooms after that on each floor and I am glad I did that in addition to the retail therapy at the mall.

Two different worlds exist and I am  a part of both .Can I make a difference at my level to improve the inhuman conditions, still very much a part of every day lives of millions of Indians ?Writing will help? Talking about it ..? I do not know.. looking at the corruption,I am sceptical of  giving monetary aid , I feel that I am afraid of venturing out on the ground  leaving my comfortable space behind. Work may only be an excuse.
That definitely does not make me feel good about myself.
                                                                                                                      

Cockroaches on Mumbai roads-our very own autorickshaws...

What do I miss most when I travel abroad?You will be surprised ,its the cockroaches on the Mumbai roads-our very own autorikshaws ,auto  or ricks as we prefer calling them .Autos have always fascinated me .They just spill over and crawl all over the city roads like cockroaches and there is no pest control to take care of them!We all have a love - hate relationship with them ;when you are not in them,you hate them and when you are personal-transport- challanged and have managed to convince one of them to do your route,you love them!!

The interiors of autorikshaws is a subject in itself for serious research.They can sport a Raja babu style dhinchak interior or a simple,no frills attached interior.

Attitude of auto drivers however is directly related to its interiors.If you spot a rick with the driver's body leaning out of the rick waist up from one side and feet jutting out from the other side,Himmesh blaring loudly on the stereo you are forewarned ..stay out!! If  you have no choice,then give instructions,sit in the centre,grab your puja ki maala and chant away with your eyes wide open and feet ready to jump out in case of emergency.Do not forget to thank your stars in case you reach safely.They will protect you the next time over too.

If you have a chhora Ganga kinaare waala for a driver,you will be entertained with Bhojpuri music,his take on various topics ranging from potholes on the roads to rising petrol prices to politics in his 'desh' .If you are a patient  and an interactive audience,you might be promptly handed over the last one rupee generally not meant to be returned (chhutta nahin hai!!)

If you are not jinxed as I definitely am,you will succeed in flagging an auto in Mumbai almost as soon as you step on the street but God forbid if you are jinxed,live in the wrong locality,wrong direction,are seeking a rick at wrong time of the day,or simply do not catch the auto driver's  fancy,you have to be patient,very patient..and wait for your turn and your rick.Someone will take pity and oblige.

Having said that,there are a few tips and ideal passenger behaviour if you need autos for your daily commute:
1.Practice meditation daily.
2.Do not look guilty or apologetic if you are heading for a 'generally rejected' route, instead,
3.Project positive body language,smile warmly,greet,try to be busy on phone,pretend taking down notes on paper and just hop inside.After travelling some distance,if asked,gently break the news.Please  note that this trick does not guaruntee considerate response from the driver and you might be in for a rude shock,a sudden jolt and halt of the rick in its tracks almost as if the machine also protested violently saying,"Are yoy crazy? Juhu at this hour??I am not budging mate!!"
4.Remember,dialling RTO helpline does not HELP.I have, in my frustration have pretended to lodge a complaint sitting in one such auto while the driver gave me impatient ,'kahaan kahaan se aa jaate hain' kind of looks from the rear view mirror.
5.In case of the above,gather your leftover dignity and step down when told .One good thing about Mumbai,no one has the time to notice your humiliation.
6.If you are constantly being overlooked,ignored or rejected by the rikshaw drivers,change residence!Its simpler.
7.If you are a regular autorikshaw user,by now your bones are already loose in their sockets.You must be already trained to hold your joints by tightening all your muscles after taking a deep breath and continuing to do so till you reach destination and that is when you heave a sigh of relief and gently release your tension mental as well as physical.
8.Keep your cool when you see your rick  driver extend his leg outside to touch a neighbouring running auto,he is just saying hello to an old friend .
9.Keep a doctor's checklist ready for reference,you will need..
     -orthopaedic surgeon for your rattling bones,
     -physiotherapist for strained muscles and ligaments,
     -chest physician,
     -cardiologist and psychiatrist for those heart- in- the- mouth moments,(pun intended)
      -dentist after those over the speedbreaker jolts when your lower jaw drops and then crashes against your upper jaw leading to cracked tooth syndrome.
10.Suppose your auto topples over,do not panic , come up slowly and emerge out of the  'open to sky' side of the auto so people can see you (you will be surrounded by a whole lot of them by then) ,give them a 'thumbs up' and you will be extracted within no time.
11.If you have nowhere to go with your girlfriend / boyfriend,try an autorickshaw...they are relatively  safe .There is just a  little risk of the auto driver looking through the rearview mirror ,but then ,who cares!!!!

Long live, Mumbai auto! 

मैं और मेरा साया ,

उम्र की कड़ियाँ गिनते - गिनते जब मैं जीवन के दुसरे छोर पर  पहुंची,

तो खुद को नितांत एकाकी महसूस किया ...

सुना था कड़ियाँ जुड़ने के लिए होती हैं ..कड़ी से कड़ी जुड़कर एक ज़ंजीर बनती है ..
        और फिर जनम लेते हैं सृष्टि के बंधन..
मैंने भी जोड़ी बहुत सी कड़ियाँ,कुछ जंजीरें भी बनी ,पर बंधन....
एक कड़ी जो कमजोर थी ,अजन्मे ही रहे..
जुड़ने से पूर्व ही टूट गए.
इस छोर पर पहुँचते -पहुँचते,लडखडाते क़दमों से,उद्वेलित नज़रों से , एक बार पीछे देखा,
किसी साए कि तलाश में,आतुर ह्रदय ने दूर दूर तक खोजा,
फिर थके कदम और निढाल होने लगे,
         क्या इस सृष्टि में एक भी साथी,एक भी बंधन मेरे लिए नहीं था ..
         चिलचिलाती धुप में क्या नहीं मिलेगी छाया..
तभी एक चिरपरिचित आकृति को अपने करीब,बहुत करीब पाया,
अपने इस एकमात्र साथी को अपने आँचल में लपेटा और पूर्ण वेग से दुसरे छोर कि ओर दौड़ पड़े,
  मैं और मेरा साया .....
          अंतिम कड़ी के जुड़ते ही एक अटूट बंधन का जनम हुआ,
          कौन कहता है कि अकेले आये हैं तो अकेले ही जायेंगे,
मेरी अंतिम यात्रा में हमसफ़र हैं ,
मैं और मेरा साया ...      
    
      
         

Some more footprints in the sand.....

He was always in a hurry...
  As the cold waiting room grew colder,minutes turned into hours and the wait never ending..
It was fear that made the cold environs of of the narrow corridor at Nanavati hospital 'bone-chilling' cold as we later realized. Our trembling hands found each other for comfort,hearts thumping as my brother in law was wheeled into the ICCU. Having spent years in and around the hospitals,and having a family owned nursing home, didn't make the place seem less intimidating .

Almost everyone avoided eye contact as we saw a dignified cardiac physician,my brother in law,eldest of the three brothers ,break down completely as other doctors took charge.
As the wait grew longer,my niece and nephew,both doctors in making took turns in going in and out of the cath lab.Vee the wife was almost in denial of the worsening situation as she completely  trusted the family of doctors,and the medical science in general.She and her husband were the only non medicos in the family.How could anything go wrong with the best and timely medical help available?...

Bad news..my husband's bbm flashed on my screen and in an instant I rushed towards the OT after I slipped Vee's hand into my niece's.I saw the two brothers emerge out with slumped shoulders shaking their heads still trying to absorb the fact they just lost their brother to massive cardiac arrest
Did you tell Vee? they asked.It was as if someone had suddenly kept tons of weight on my chest.I had never done this before,how will I do this..she will be looking up into my eyes with hope...

"We lost him" the rest of the words just tumbled out,incoherent... . they tried,be strong,there was no hope,sorry,it was massive,and I said -he didn't give us time..I actually said that.He was known in the family as one who did not have time.He  was always in a hurry!


We sat huddled together as emotions took over and as the news was sinking in,came the tough task of informing. How does one inform two, young children that while they trustingly slept peacefully at home,we lost their father. .How does one inform aged parents that they lost their young son ..How does one choose words to be able to break it as softly as possible?

Vee suddenly got up and said she wanted to see him.The walk to the bed was the longest ever.
 Assa ..Assa ..pahaayecha ..(Do I have to see him like this?) and she slumped like a heap quietly.. She got up again to stare at the calm and serene  face .It was peaceful  but white face of death ...and she slowly moved away. Bass.. just like that ...gone ,without a word?You think I should have stayed inside with him?,She asked.
We saw him being wheeled out slowly to the morgue. Did he feel our presence as we said good bye to him one last time?There was hesitation ..How could you go home leaving him alone with strangers in the cold morgue?Will he feel betrayed?
Practicalities rule our lives and this was no exception as we drove home in deafening silence.Vee glanced at her sleeping kids and decided she would let them sleep this night in peace and tell them in the morning . Tears welled up every now and then and as the darkness grew thick and the silence thicker,she talked about him,her life.. she kept on talking through the night ,non-stop and we listened till dawn broke with another day...
Life would be different now..

She came ,She saw, She conquered!!

Perfect day to remember those guiding stars in your life,those who guided you,pushed you,instilled values in you. You were like putty in their hands. Over the years,many hands changed and influenced you like different strokes with different brushes .A stroke here ,a pat there and the canvass became more colorful with each contribution.
  Question is ,do you seriously remember them all?.... .I am talking about teachers. There are only a few who must have left indelible impression on you. For me it was much later in my student  life, in degree college, that I found such an influence. Till she came into our lives,we were like scores of other p.g.students,abandoned by a transferred guide ,directionless...
  She entered impeccably dressed ,with her head held high,exuding an air of absolute authority. She took mental notes and set about setting our student life right :-)
 First she removed all partitions to make the department sans any cubicles which served as our hiding places away from the prying eyes of teachers.
LESSON 1-If you feel the need to hide,you are doing something you shouldn't be doing 
Next she geared up for cleanliness drive.By then we had enough rebels to resist the idea so next day as the staff trickled in,they were greeted by our HOD cleaning the sinks!! One by one she was joined in by the sheepish staff and we had a sparkling deptt.
LESSON 2-No job is below dignity .
LESSON3-Set an example for your students and staff.
Next she took charge of our messy schedule.Many post lunch sessions were earlier spent in the library to cope up with the backlog of studies and the backlog was created in turn due to our crazy appointment scheduling.She made sure we spent enough time with each patient and never rescheduled any.
LESSON 4-Respect time and time will respect you.
She hates lies, even the most harmless ones and respects an honest explanation, always...
She took complete charge of not only our studies,but even those aspects of our lives which would affect our learning process.She made sure we were fit,ate well,were not distracted etc..
I may not say it in so many words and not so often but I know she knows that I care ..
I am proud to be her student and can spot her student from a crowd of students anywhere,any time such is the aura of Dr.Sabita Ram.

                          `