A New Life Together…

It is a very painful experience for me to  make an attempt at writing all that I have gone through and I am sure that it would be equally painful to all my dear ones who would be disturbed by the harsh reality that shook our peaceful life. Perhaps I need the catharsis to cleanse my inner self of all those feelings that made me to see life and death from a very close angle and changed my perspective towards life! But the best part is that the good wishes of many, known and unknown people, and the blessing of the God above made us come out of this episode—stronger and  more in love!

 

It  was  a late evening one fine day when I found my husband pouring over some papers scattered before him. I found these were my income statement for the year. My husband was going critically over my income tax statement and calculating my gross salary, deductions and tax liability, I was really surprised or may I say was pleasantly shocked. Now you would say that what is so surprising about a man going over the tax returns of his wife or could it be by any standard called an intricate job when almost all the working people go over this exercise in a routine manner. But if only you knew that just a month or two back he was lying in the Emergency ward of the PGI Chandigarh struggling for his very life with a severe head injury!

 

How can I even try to explain my helplessness when the Doctor on his routine visit, while showing his one finger to him, would ask : “how many fingers can you see?” And in a feeble voice he would say, “One”! Encouraged by his answer the Doctor would further ask showing two fingers of one hand and three fingers of another hand, “How many fingers can you count?” And next he would ask, “Five plus five is?” and “Ten divided by two is?” I would be anxiously watching expression on his face and would feel like putting words in his mouth and would be prompting him to answer these basic mathematical questions. No, I am not talking about a small child but am talking about my husband who is fifty six years of age, a veterinarian by training and is at a fairly senior administrative position in Government job!   But being at a right place at a wrong time led him to the Emergency ward of the PGI  Chandigarh that changed y perspective towards life and its ways.

Now, when I look at people around me dramatizing their insignificant problems into “life and death” situations and make them seem like catastrophes, I think hard. They don’t know what it is like to be on the verge of death and survive! I value life for its beauty more than I did some time back for I have seen death staring hard at our complacent and simple life.

 

 

A Facade of Colours…

11 March, 2009

When I see them

Smeared in colour red

I shudder in freight

Thinking of blood

Gushing forth

From a fatal wound!

Where has the red

Vanished and gone astray

That stood for

Sacrifice to uphold

The supreme goal

Of moving ahead!

 

The colour green,

Symbol of

Peace and growth

To live and let live,

When smeared on

My friends galore

Reminds me of

Jealous people around

Who turn green

With envy and spite

At causes small and petite!

 

Trembling and shaking

With throbbing hearts

Yellow they turn

With anxiety and fright

When their deceit

Unethical practice

Ulterior motives

To gain

Unearned rewards

Comes to light!

 

Can the colours

Red, green and yellow

Cover even on Holi

The colour black

That has hardened

Heart and soul

Of such spineless mob!

 

Unholy Holi

11 March, 2009
Behind colours of Holi
Masking the
Real emotions,
Hiding spite malice
They hug and shower
Colours of love and honour
With the daggers
Of envy ever ready
To plunge in the back
Of those they embrace
In a friendly clasp!
I watch those faces
Hidden behind the colours
Red, green and yellow
And shiver to see
The blackness of heart
Writ open and bold,
In eyes so cold
Which no warmth of
Holi colours can veil!
Spreading a false
Message of love
They disperse
Having celebrated
An annual ritual
Of sham brotherhood!

December 13, 2008 to January 13, 2009: A Long JOurney…

My life has seen its best and its worst between this period of one month. I saw and experienced what I am not in a position even to write. Perhaps some other day when life would be a little better, I would share all that I have gone through, and am still going through, with my readers.

Happy Diwali…

28 October, 2008

Tuesday

Diwali is where your dear ones are! I miss you all!

Happy B’day Dear!!!

20 October, 2008

Monday

Dear Little One,

You came in my life on this day and filled it with a new feeling for a few seconds, feeling of being a mother to a second daughter when, honestly admitting, I wanted to be a mother to a son!

But today I can say that I have never been more wrong as I was at those few seconds as what would I have done had you not been there to support me at so many crucial moments of my life.

Happy B’day my Littel one!

Love

Ma

Blue-eyed-Babies of the Family…

Unfortunately none in our family is born with blue eyes! All of us have brown eyes! Did I ever rue that I was not born with blue eyes? No, never! But recently I have realized what wonder “blue-eyed babies” can perform only on the basis of being “blue-eyed-babies”! These are not the ones who are born with blue eyes rather they have very dark eyes but they are the “blue-eyed-babies” and get pampered treatment.

 

This fact dawned upon me recently when I happened to see some very secret and confidential files maintained by the powers that be. Boys! If you say I was shocked to see the truth it would be understatement. I felt as if the very life of mine was taken away from me and I cursed hard myself for not having being born with blue eyes!

But had I been born with blue eyes would I ever dream of becoming a “blue-eyed-baby” of the powers that be? I am unsure that I would ever had become the pampered child of the powers that be.

Now what benefits these “blue-eyed-babies” enjoy being the pampered and favoured children of the father of the family? The father is so very careful about the wishes, legitimate or otherwise, of these babies that he takes proper care to get his favoured kids what even they have started dreaming of! He doesn’t care for the rules, regulations, the laid down norms of the family but rather boldly and defiantly breaks them all. Rules are for the fools and the non-entities like me and you and not for the “blue-eyed-babies”!

Even before the “blue-eyed-babies” ask for some favourite toy or a game he places order for the same, inviting three recommendations! The recommendations that say that the “blue-eyed-kids’ are ready to play with these games and toys and they should be given these. Now armed with these faked recommendations the father is emboldened to play the game to give to his “blue-eyed-babies” what they have not yet earned but since he is bent upon favouring them who can stop him? The whole game is played in an underground manner. On the other hand the law-abiders and the rule-followers are sending legitimate request letters following laid down norms and rules to the father. But the father, in order to procure for his favoured ones, destroys all these legitimate requests by putting them to the waste paper basket. He doesn’t even think for a moment the hard work and the labour that had gone into the requests of the less favoured kids. The poor kids who were neither born with blue eyes nor were the “blue-eyed-babies” of the father!

The other poor kids, believing in the impartiality of the father, keep on waiting for the toy and the game that they believe to have earned but the father is busy manipulating getting all these toys and games for his “blue-eyed-babies”!

But when the distribution has been made and the other kids find it foul and unfair, they cry and rant at the injustice but who is there to listen to them? No on! One of the kids was different. Though he was not born with blue eyes, he was born with an undying fighting spirit. He just could not take the injustice and started to raise protest against the malpractices. What would the father do? He was mad as someone as weak as this kid had challenged his authority! But from all the accounts that i heard about the kid, he is still going strong.

And now when this kid has seen all the manipulations that have gone into procuring all the toys and games for the “blue-eyed-babies” his resolve to fight and to bring this to the notice of all those who hold the family in high esteem has become more firm.

But being a kid he is still vulnerable as the father holds power that he uses to harm the kid. Imagine doing all that to a kid who had only asked for all that he had earned. But since he is not one of the “blue-eyed-kids” so how can he have his legitimate rights in a family that has lost all those principles that made it strong once upon a time!

If something happens to this kid during this ruthless fight I am sure some of the readers reading between the lines would take the fight to the finishing line!

 

 

Telepathy that works between us…

14 October, 2008

Tuesday

 

I have a very strange bond with my kids. Whenever any of them is upset, I get a hunch. And incidentally this is both way. My kids, too, have telepathic quality when it comes to us. The chatting, that I had with my little one today in the morning when I was trying to play as normal as I could, depicts it. She could sense, sitting thousands of mile away from me that her Maa was upset. Suddenly she asked me this question:

Little one: aap theek ho mummy? (Are you fine mummy?

I assured her that I was fine and then asked her as to what made hetr think so to which her reply was that she had a hunch, an intuition:

 Little one: aise hi laga! (just felt it)

                  sachi na? (True, really?)

 

After a while she once again asked me about the college or something that might

 

have happened there:

 

 Little one: college mein kutch hua kya? (Did something happen in the   

                  college?)

 

Though I tried to reassure her but the fact was that I was really upset. It was early in the morning and I had just browsed the newspaper where news about some persons from our Institute having gone on a training programme had caught my attention. There was nothing unusual in the report except for the fact that one of them had written to me on record that “she cannot be sent to the training course as the training falls in the mid of the semester). We are in the mid of the semester even now but who cares? Why these double standards? I was sad for the dubious people and the proclamation they make to motivate others! What cheeks indeed! I never divulge these things to my dear ones so that they, too, may not undergo a pain but how wrong I was! My daughter, could sense that there was something that was painful to me though I had not as much as made a mention of it. And then I thought what right these vile persons have to shatter the peace of my family? They have no right at all and at the same time I am under no moral obligation to hide or shield their wrongs. Why should I? I think it is high time that the abuse of power by persons holding public offices needs to be highlighted to purge any system of corrupt practices!

Ime: hi

 Little one: mamma

  :)

 me: kaisa hai? (How are you?)

 

 Little one: theek hoon (Fine)

  kal mid term hai (Tomorrow is my mid term examination)

  aap kaise ho? (How are you?)

 

 me: achhi hoon (I am good)

7:51 PM achha (OK)

  ek letter aai thi (received a letter)

 

  Little one: kis ki?(whose letter?)

 me: fee of the course (for the course fee)

 Little one: CIEFL ?

 me: I’ll scan it and send that to you

7:52 PM no UIOWA

  Little one: haan do that (yes do that)

  cause Univ covers for that

  aap bejh do (you send it to me)

  i will get it fixed

  me: achha (OK)

7:53 PM today I’ll scan both sides and attach with mail

  chal tu achhe se padhna (OK you study well)

7:54 PM how is Chicago?

 

 Little one: pata nahin (Don’t know)

  kahin gaye hi nahin! (didn’t go anywhere)

  ha ha ha

 

 me: achha

 

 Little one: par Indians hi Indians hain vaha! (there are a lot many Indians there)

  hadd Indians! (too much Indians)

 

 me: achha (really?)

  achha

 

7:55 PM Little one: aap theek ho mummy? (Are you fine mummy?

)

  me: kis ka paper hai?(what paper do you have tomorrow?)

  Little one: International Business

  me: haan kyonm? (yes, why?)

  Little one: aise hi laga! (just felt it)

  sachi na? (True, really?)

  me: arre nahin (there is nothing)

  haan

  Little one: thake ho? (Arer you tired?)

 me: haan (yes)

  Little one: college mein kutch hua kya? (Did something happen in the college?)

  me: get tired

7:56 PM  arre nahin (nothing)

  kya hoga? (what will happen?)

 

 Little one: hmm

 

 

I think this is a pain that has travelled to my family and now is the time that I must do something to curb it. The fact that my lille one could sense my pain reflects two things, one that no individual is an island in itself and what happens to him affects all the people around him; and second that no public office has a moral right to harass an individaul to an extent that his loved ones suffer more than the one who is the object of hostile harassment.

 

I have put the private and personal conversation between a mother and a daughter on a public space to highlight the damage it has caused to the peace of my family members and inspite of that if I am supposed to play the Christ to forgive all the offenders, sorry but I am not a God!

 

 

Myths and Legends

Myths, Legends and Folktales

The Day I played a Tough Cop to Some Students…

NIT Past and Present

Memories raise their head from all sorts of things and this time it was a piece of paper that triggered a very memorable incident. In fact it was while cleaning my cupboard, a small paper stumbled down. It had on it names of some students and the date and time. If I tell you the time you would be surprised as how come I had put such a time on that paper. The paper had recorded 2-30 a.m. on it! The paper had some names on it and when I started reading them; all those names transformed into the faces of young boys! The boys some of whom are doing so well in their personal and professional life today but that day they might have written their names with a trembling heart!

It so happened that I got a call from the Hostel one day that a group of students were sitting on the road and singing songs. Now there is nothing wrong with this except that it was 2 a.m.! “Call the security, ‘ i said in a normal manner. “Or call the Chief Warden” I added. On a second thought I realized that it was my job. But how could I walk to the Hostel at this time of the night. I watched outside, it was moonlit night. I walked to the small verandah and could hear faint sound of the singing voice. I decided to walk to the hostel, all alone!

I must have looked like a ghost to the young group as they might not have imagined in their wildest dreams that someone, especially a woman, would walk alone to the hostel. What I saw surprised me. This small group was perching safely on the road and singing in a melodious voice some song. One of the boys had a guitar in hanging from his shoulder and was producing perfect tunes.

A look at me and all of them stopped. They stood up at once. “What’s going on?” I asked in a gruff voice putting on a tough demeanour. “Ma’am, we are leaving in a day or two and are visiting all the places on the campus to have them etched in our memory’ a brave one volunteered. It was the time of departure and farewells at the college and everyone had become sentimental but then it doesn’t make all kind of liberties excusable!

I played tough, acted like a strict cop at that time. “Give me your names, I’ll see to it that you get punished for it.” I said in mock angry tone. I could not let the mask of tough exterior off as these boys would have to learn some lesson. They were afraid. I could see it. “leave this place immediately and meet me in my office tomorrow” I told them stiffly.

They all walked away sheepishly. I came back home where my kids, noticing my absence, had got up. “You are a spoilsport” said all of them in unison. “What was the issue if they were singing songs like that?” they reprimanded me. Even I was feeling bad but I had to teach them that there exists a very thin line between freedom and duties and this must not be crossed.

I took the paper from them and put that in a drawer of my table. I could never even think of doing any harm to the boys who were on the verge of joining a new life. I just wanted them to know that life outside the gate of the college would be tough where no one would ever forgive them for such a thing. I wanted them to grow from boyhood to manhood and go to the wild cruel world that awaited them.

The piece of paper on which they had noted the names with a trembling heart was the only reminder of my escapades of a day when I had played a tough cop.