Letter to my Little One–8

October 29, 2006                                                                                          

Dear Little One,

I told you in my earlier letter that it was your first smile that made something melt inside me but to be honest if you think that then onwards I could accept you completely, would neither be true nor a lie. Perhaps what you wrote the other day in one of your posts about Camus applies in my case as well— “To lie is not only to say what isn’t true. It is also and above all, to say more than is true, and, as far as the human heart is concerned, to express more than one feels. This is what we all do, every day; to simplify life.” Dear Little one I didn’t have the exact words to say what I wanted to say but your Camus has made it much easier for me. Perhaps I would be able to put what I felt for you in a much better manner.

I looked intently at you. You looked so pretty. My mother handed you to me and I sat taking you in my lap. You always knew, from the very beginning, how to make your presence felt and you started to cry at the top of your voice. Or was it that, perceptive as  you  were, you could see the initial expression in my eyes, the expression that must have conveyed to you—Not Welcome! I don’t know why did you cry but this is how I am able to interpret it today. Someone said, “the child is hungry” and everyone became so attentive towards your needs. You were smart enough to attract attention. Smart from the very beginning, I must say! Someone put a container of honey in my hands. As is the custom prevalent in our society, the first thing to be put in the mouth of a child is honey put on a gold spoon. It is believed that the child takes up the uniqueness of the person who writes “Ohm” on the tongue of the child. Everyone waited for me to take the decision. I wanted to do the job myself and this is the reason why all three of you are stubborn like me. I put a little honey on a gold ornament and put that in your mouth and God, how did you suck it clear of honey! You sure were hungry. I gave you more of it and satiated your hunger you went to sleep, blissfully, in my lap. Now I could look at you without facing your eyes that seemed to question my initial reaction towards your birth. Questions that were difficult to answer even to a few hours old daughter.

I was angry with myself for having those thoughts. I wondered how I could have those thoughts in the first place. Was it that somewhere inside me the stigma of being a second daughter to my parents was still present and I had very callously transferred my own failure, being born as a second daughter, to you?

My father, your nana, came to the room. He really could read my feelings and said to me very light-heartedly, “tell me right now, if you don’t want to have this daughter, I’ll throw her out.” Looking benevolently at you he continued, “but it would be difficult for you not to fall in love with her if you don’t decide now.” What did he mean? Even a reference to throwing you away, though he never meant it to be, made me clutch you protectively. He laughed aloud in one of his famous open throated laughter and looked endearingly first at you and then at me, his own second daughter, whom he loved the most. I was suddenly feeling light both physically and mentally—a big burden off me!

You were a demanding child. You knew instinctively that unless you cried, you will not be listened to. So you would cry till we all were at your beck and call. In spite of having accepted you in my life the relationship between me and you was perfunctory, at least from my side, I must confess it.

I don’t understand why I kept blaming myself for having borne a daughter. The self-rejection that my mother must have felt on giving birth to me was at work in me as well and I kept on apologizing to my own self for having failed somehow! Feeling guilty all the while that my baby is not a son!

Perhaps you were three or four days old when your Taya ji and Tayee came to see you or was it to offer their sympathies to us for having borne a daughter? I don’t know but I know one thing that when she said, “He was delivering a lecture but the news made him so upset that he couldn’t continue!” I hold you closer and wondered why they were so upset or in the first place were they really upset? I wanted to comfort you as you would start squirming the moment someone would comment upon you being not-much-welcome. And I had become so protective towards you. Perhaps this is the reason that even today whenever someone tries to inflict pain upon you I cannot tolerate it at all. I wanted to say something harsh to them but my reverence for the relationship withheld me back and I sat quietly watching your little hand that had clutched one of the fingers of my hand tightly, as if to receive some succour! I promised myself that I will not let you down ever. I would never let anyone inflict pain upon you!

One day you were very restless and were crying a lot. I tried feeding you as it would make you stop crying but that day even it would not work. I was worried as I was not able to put my fingers on what troubled you? It was your Nani who saw it. There was some infection in your navel and a little blood was there. I cannot write what happened to me. I started cursing myself for having nurtured some negative thoughts about you that now were resulting in this infection. I called Dr. Abbey who assured me that there was nothing to worry about. But I would be cursing myself for being a cause to your pain. I was not at rest till you recovered fully. You were a fighter from the very beginning and have emerged stronger after every onslaught on your being. And this is what makes me respect you and love you being my daughter. You have, undoubtedly, filled my life with love, laughter and sweetness.

Thereafter, I didn’t have an iota of remorse for having borne a second daughter.

I would write more in my next letter.

 

Love

Ma

The Life Line in Hilly State Himachal

The Man-made Miracle–”Z” Shaped Road

The silky smooth drive on the National Highways in Himachal would make any Himachali proud as Himachal has come a long way in providing quality roads to its populace. The roads constitute the very life line of Himachal’s economy. Not only this, the roads bring about a social and emotional integration among the people as they have a readily available means to travel and to meet others.

The big towns of the state are having as comfortable roads as are possible in any hilly terrain. Some people may think that as the urban roads act as a felicitator for tourist influx hence the Governemnt pays attention toward these stretches of road lengths. But this is not what the truth is. The Government is providing roads in rural areas so as to make life easy for the people living therein. This fact dawned upon me during my recent visit to one such area.

Though I must confess that roads for me, during my childhood, meant only the Mall Road and the Cart Road in Shimla as I could not just think beyond! My understanding about the roads had remained so had it not been for a yearly pilgrimage back home to a remote village of Mandi that would make me aware of the real Himachal and its roads. The journey would be tedious and arduous as the roads were narrow and sometimes my little heart would be filled with fear when the tyre of the bus would be just on the outer curve of the road! I would pray and pray to God for safe journey.  The bus from Baijnath would take us to some distance and after that we would have to walk. I still remember my father being so happy walking towards his ancestral home whereas we would be grumbling for being put to so much of discomfort! And from Lad Bharol, a small village, it would be an arduous ascent to Simas village that is so famous for its Simsa Maa Temple, the child bestowing deity! The terrain was tough but the scenic beauty captured and soothed the tired souls. During the steep ascent, at one place, under the shade of a tree, we would sit to provide some respite to our feet and would watch around. It was really amazing that it was the only tree on that steep ascent and we would look at it intently waiting to reach the spot so as we could sit under it. From that point we would gaze at a miraculous projection in the hill that provided natural cover to the houses constructed under it. It would be so wonderful to watch the people living in the houses where the rain water never entered as the natural cover overhead saved it from the rains! We would watch and watch this particular spot.

 
Natural Projection as Roof
At some more height a steep ascending hill, with a house on the top of it, wound capture my gaze and I would wonder how these people ever get down and was so surprised to learn that small children from the village walk everyday to Lad Bharol High school. As if it was not enough I was told by my proud father that many young people from the village had made a name and a place for themselves in various fields. I would be plain envious as well as appreciative for their undying spirit to succeed. But one thing I was certain of that no road can ever be constructed to reach this part of the inhabitation.

Gradually over a period of long duration, the roads were constructed, first the kutchha ones and then the metalled ones!  I found out that the Himachal Government is as liberal in connecting the remote areas of the state as it is for providing better road facility in the urban and semi-urban areas. During my recent visit to Lad Baharol area of District Mandi, I was pleasantly surprised to find a jeepable road at a place where a few years back, I would stand, stare and wonder as to how people living in some houses over there could ever get a vehicle to their village. I would think–why these people prefer to live there instead of migrating to some other place connected by road. But this time when I stopped at that spot to pay my obeisance to Lord Shiva’s nature-made idol, I was surprised to find a “Z” shaped road where I would not even dare to crawl on my all fours! I thought it to be in the making as this was what I could make out from a distance.  When I came back and talked to my Ma about that road she told me that the road, though kutchha, was jeepable and people used this road to carry goods and other essential things. I was really appreciative of the good work being done by the Government to provide this basic facility to its people. As a road is nothing less than a life line for the people of hilly states like Himachal!

And last but not the least, the fact that Himchal ranked second lowest so far as the roads per 100 square kilometers of area were concerned in the year 1969 and today we are at second place in “Infrastructure building” according to  a recent survey conducted by India Today. An achievement that would make any Himachali proud of!

A Rendezvous with Dr. Richard Mathew Stallman

 

Donning the Himachali Cap, Dr. Richard Mathew Stallman

“He is coming”, “He is coming”, the posters shouted from every nook and corner of the NIT Hamirpur campus. Curious and inquisitive to know more, I stared hard at the picture of a benevolent looking man with an affectionate smile on his countenance. His long flowing hair and beard adding more mystery to his persona. Who is he? An apostle! I thought. What would he teach us about? I was surprised to know that he would teach us a lot about the moral and ethical issues that face the world of Free Software. Dr. Richard Mathew Stallman launched the development of the GNU operating system in 1984, the goal being to create a completely free Unix-like operating system. The organisation that was founded in 1985 to further this purpose is the Free Software Foundation. An apostle of freedom of Software!

I was interested to learn more about the issue straight from the mouth of the person who is the champion of the cause of free software. A Psycho-social issue that touches all those people who have any knowledge about the working of Computer software and programs! I was interested to know more and the rendezvous with Dr. Richard Mathew Stallman was to enlighten me about so many issues that a computer novice like me needed to know about.

Dr. Richard Mathew Stallman, President, Free Software Foundation, talked about the most sought after objective of human mind—freedom. We all crave for freedom in all aspects of our life then why don’t we think about free software? Is it not a right of the free thinking human beings to help generate and distribute free software? Well, honestly speaking, it made sense to a nitwit like me!

In June 1971, Richard Matthew Stallman joined MIT Artificial Intelligence Laboratory as a programmer where he gained popularity with the hacker community and came to be known by his now popular name RMS. In the first edition of the Hacker’s Dictionary, he wrote, “ ‘Richard Stallman’ is just my mundane name; you can call me ’RMS’.” So hence forth I would call him RMS! Dr. RMS deliberated upon four main freedoms that made the development of free software a necessity:

The level zero freedom is to use and run the software.

The level first is the freedom to change the source code of the programme, as we want it. But then don’t we have the freedom to run the programme as we like it, perhaps not. Can we study and change the programmes that we work on, if not then how can we be free to use it?

The second point that he dwelt upon, the second level of freedom, was—the need for free software for the benefit of one’s neighbour. If your neighbour asks you to give him software that is propriety software, we either refuse to give him any or give the pirated copy of the same. We choose between the lesser evil! In both the cases it is unethical and unsocial as well. We should have the freedom to distribute a software copies freely. The propriety software puts restrictions on the use of software like—for how long or how many—on the users. He called such software as “just trust me software”.

The third level of freedom is to use it for the wellbeing of the society or the community. The free software has the freedom to bring about change the society or the users can benefit from and use the programme accordingly. This is what according to RMS “democracy” is. Living in free society, we must provide the upgradation/modification of the programmes, for the welfare of the community. Now there may be people who don’t know anything about programming so it becomes the job of SW professionals to incorporate the desired changes in the programming and make it available to the community.

It made sense to me as I cannot develop any programme but feel the need for so many new features in the programmes that I run. How wonderful it would be if someone could listen to my point of view and incorporate the desired changes! According to Dr. RMS the propriety software would not let any user bring about such a change in the programme and only the developer is authorized to do the needful.

 

 Freedom as a Human Right
He used the analogy of the Colonizer and the colonized to drive home his point. The Propriety software develops on the “power of the developer” whereas the free software develops on the “power of the user”. “The Colonial Power Control System at work behind all propriety software” is how he described this entire phenomenon as.

One must have the freedom not to have any Masters! The Propriety Software offers one freedom to choose between different propriety Software and this is just being free to have “a choice in choosing your Master”! He stressed, “Freedom is not to have any masters!”

The issue of Freedom was a later development for Dr. RHS as initially he, too, started in 1983 at development of programme as a pastime as he said, “developing software was I good at!” Though he started as a pleasure seeking active programmer but later he wanted to “develop a new Operating System and make it free”. “I could campaign for freedom using my Technical Skills,” he acknowledged. He could see a social problem. It was like if you see someone drowning and know how to swim, it is your moral duty to save the person. (Though he put it humorously, that not if the drowning person was Bush!)

But the real obstacle was to develop hundreds of programmes to develop a Free Operating System. The name he selected for these programmes was “GNU”! Later GNU was provided with the kernel named Linux which is the heart of any Operating System. All these steps resulted in GNU/Linux Operating System! “The software supported the philosophy and the philosophy supported the Software.” It was getting interesting as a person like me who was more or less computer illiterate was able to appreciate the issues!

Dr RMS drove home the basic philosophy behind the free software in the following way and citing example from the freedom struggle that India had to undergo to win freedom:

 

Freedom has to be won.

Freedom needs to be defended.

Freedom has to be preserved.

Freedom has to be valued.

 

To win, defend, preserve and value freedom one has to understand what does it mean? “Human rights need to be understood” with regard to free software and Operating systems. “All Computer Engineers and Users must know about four human rights and four freedoms”. Some social and ethical issues! Dr.Richard Mathew Stallman is a free software pioneer. As president of the Free Software Foundation and founder of the GNU Project, he is also an evangelist of a free society in which people have basic human rights to run, study, copy and distribute software.

The Propriety software provides one with convenience of working. “It values your immediate convenience and not your freedom” We sacrifice our freedom for the sake of convenience and this makes us addicts. The software companies are “conspiring together to enslave you in the Software programmes.” I wondered about the ease it was to work on some propriety programmes and thought of the difficulty that I might have to face in order to change to free software!

Dr RMS was especially critical of the role that Educational Institutes are playing in propagating the use of Propriety Programmes. He strongly advocated about the onus on the Educational Institutes to make their students have independence to learn and develop free software.

Under such a situation the role that Educational Institutes can play to imbibe a learning culture among students becomes paramount. The educational Institutes have a responsibility to be “free software users” as it is more about “socio Ethical issues” that help the students to know what it means to live in a free world. How to “occasionally make a sacrifice for the sake of freedom?”

RMS further touched upon the issue of the so called philanthropist attitude of the Propriety software companies that supply their software free of cost to some Educational Institutes. They do so only “to colonize “the students and once they graduate they become users . Thus Schools become “tools for teaching dependency” so the Educational Institutes should not allow it to happen and not make their students addict to convenience that propriety software provide. Schools should make students “strong, capable, independent” members of free society. It should be the mission of the schools.

“We can win freedom with some minor sacrifices” sacrifices to run some programmes that Propriety software provide. Propriety Programmes give us the option between “take it or leave it: whereas with the free software one can change as one develops.

Yes, it made sense to me, a nitwit as such, but I just wondered if laypersons like me start working using free software then would we be able to work as efficiently as we work using propriety software? Perhaps yes.

The Saint iGNcius!
Suddenly he put away the Himachali cap, that he supported throughout, on the table nearby and put a black coloured disk, having a hollow in the center, on his head. He put on a black robe as well and now he really looked like the apostle that I thought him to be! Ah! He was now in his appearance that is his hallmark, I think, the Saint iGNcius! The hat like thing that he wore was a huge floppy like object that he called “my Hard disk” and the black robe was his sacramental robe! “I am saint iGNUcius of the church of Emacs. I bless your computer my child.”

Next was the question answer session where sitting on the stairs leading to the Dias, he patiently answered all that queried the young mind s of our students. He seemed to carry a childlike innocence and warmth during all his interactions, and his informal ways and mannerism endeared him to all of us.

I sat mesmerized during his discourse and was wondering about the innovative and creative urge that made such a concept possible for people like Dr. Richard Mathew Stallman. Whenever I read “The Fountainhead” by Ayn Rand, I wonder, is it possible to have such creators in the world? Do they really exist in the present day world? The rendezvous with RMS strengthened my conviction about the possibility of existence of such great men who work driven by their innovative thinking and are not, by any means, the Second handers!

 

 

 

 

Letters to My Little One—7

 

Happy Birthday!!!!

October 20, 2006
Dear Little one,

 

This is the day when you came to my life and filled it with love warmth and sweetness. I think I need to make certain things clear and there is no other easy than to write them all, not only for you but for me as well to see out relationship in a new perspective. So let’s start from the very beginning.

When I realized that you had nestled securely in my very being, I was very happy. Happy as I felt strongly you to be a son and I wanted to have a complete family. Though I realized—a very tough life ahead—as I would have to handle two young toddlers! I was inviting trouble and happy inviting it. Now don’t take all this literally as you would again accuse me of being partial toward you! You have, in some your worst mood swings, blamed me for not welcoming you in our life. I wonder at times, is really what you feel like or say as you have nothing else to find against me except this accusation! So I was happy having you with me. I would be immersed in studies and you would be learning all that I was studying. I had to go to Shimla to appear in some examination that finished in September. I am so thankful to the Sood family I stayed with as they all saw to my comfort more than anyone else saw to it. I was not even allowed to carry a bucket of water to the bathroom! I used to study for whole of the night, taking some small naps of sleep in between and that too as I could sense your discomfort. I would change positions while studying—sitting, reclining, lying etc. so that you could have some respite from the same posture and have rest. Dear Little one, I was really worried about you. Exams over and I had to travel back to my Ma’ place and it was about 12 hours’ arduous journey to that place. Thankfully I was okay when I reahed back. But now there was another interview that I had to appear in, at Dharmasala, again a 6 hours’ journey. I really was a bit cruel to you. You have born a lot with me dear. I came back from Dharamsala and was happy to be free now on from all examinations and could devote all the time to the elder one, staying with your Nani, and to you still secure inside me!

It was about time when you should have been born but there was no sign of your arrival. I was worried as I started to think that perhaps my continual traveling had done you some harm and wanted to reassure myself of your safety. Once again I had to trade to the nearest Gynecological clinic at some 25 kms from our place. Whole the way to the clinic I kept on praying for your safety. Now don’t say, “You were worried as you thought it to be a baby boy!” Yes, though I thought you to be a boy but still was worried about the safety of my unborn child, whatever it may be. The doctor assured me that everything was fine and I returned back as I wanted you to be born at home. I came to your Nani’s place for my confinement as it would have been much easier for us all. I was a bit sad that your Dadi had not, so much so, as asked me t come home for the confinement. And these are the times when you have to seek someone’s help. I was sad and so was your papa though he would not say so. These males are different. When it comes to criticizing the wife’s people they are so loud but when it comes to find faults in their own people, they just play ignorant! We women are different. We understand everything but to keep the false egos of the males intact, would not as much as mutter it! We really are smart. I wonder what the world would have been like had we not this great sense of keeping our emotions to our self! I can say all these things to you as you, too, are a woman!

I have been digressing a lot, so let me come back to the track. The next day was the great day when you came into my life. I was waiting for the announcement of having given birth to a son. “It is once again a daughter,” the words made my world go haywire! I would not tell a lie by saying that I was not affected, I was. I was suddenly sad for having borne daughter once again as if it was my fault. Today, so many years after, I feel guilty of nurturing such a thought. How could I take the blame for something that was not my doing alone! But it was perhaps the eternal woman inside me that felt guilty and responsible for having not borne a son! Yes, you are right in a way. When I heard that you are a girl, I was not especially happy as, like all other women, I too wanted my second child to be a son. And more so as the elder one was already there! And tell me honestly, if I had thought this way, was I wrong? But when I looked at you and believe me, if you can, our eyes locked in a bond—and Lo you smiled at me. I was surprised as you were just a few seconds old at that time. But looking back I find that it was your bewitching smile that would make you win you worst critics! You won my heart and I found something melt inside me—a sense of not having borne a son. And we were to become the best of the friends henceforth. I wanted to have you close to my bosom and ask for forgiveness for having even allowed such a thought to enter my mind. I caressed you with a loving hand and sought your forgiveness. I think you understood my unspoken words and smiled back. It was the language that we still use when we don’t need any other medium to communicate. “You say it best when you say nothing at all…”

Do I need to say anything more to you my little one? It was the beginning of the relationship that we have today—the relationship that has filled my life with love, warmth and sweetness.

I would write more in my next letter.

 

Love

Ma

Letter to my Little One–6

 

Missing you badly…

October 19, 2006

Dear Little one,

I am missing you so badly today. As soon as I returned from the market, I switched on the PC and opened my mail account and looked for the sign of your presence on it. And was sad to see that you have left the office. It felt like you had gone without saying bye to me. Your cell is not working and I cannot contact you even if I want to. I had to say so many things to you today but cannot just say. So am taking the same recourse—writing to you!

Do you remember last year this very day, we had so much work to-do and then had to go to the market as the next day was Karvachauth and we had to make some purchases. We were already late for the market and it was bit dark in the evening. I had no intention of walking to the Market and there was no one around who would have driven us—a catch-22 situation. I wanted you to drive the ca but as usual you refused saying, “How can I when neither Papa nor Ashu is there to help me.” I was angry with you and wanted you to take the keys in your hand and just start the car and here you had so many petty excuses for not driving on your own.

But my will prevailed and we three went to the market and you were so confident driving the car. The sense of freedom and confidence that you might have experienced that day I am able to feel even today, a full year after. I remember it so well as the next day was your B’day!

I am missing you so much dear.

Love

Ma

Culinary Delicacies of Mandi

 

Whenever I go back to my Ma’s home, along with the excitement of visiting them all, there is a longing for the Daal stuffed, deep fried bhaturoos that are called Behdwaan in the local dialect. I just love them and, without having any qualms about the calories that I take, gobble them up. Making these special Bhatoorus is a tricky job. It is something that one has to plan a day before. It needs so many ingredients and the most important of all is the love and the care that go into the making of Behdwaans!

For the preparation of the dough, yeast mixed in lukewarm water, would be mixed in the wheat floor along with some milk and a little of ghee and ajwain. You have to see to believe how the dough is kneaded as my Ma believes that more you knead the dough, softer would be the Behdwaans! Many a times she has scolded me to be very soft in applying force to the dough! Once kneaded, it would be covered with a warm blanket and left to rise. This preparation over, my Ma would take another in hand that is preparing the stuffing.

My Ma soaks the Maah Chhilka Daal overnight so that it becomes soft the next morning. So many times I have asked her to use Dhule Maah but she says, “This makes the Behdwaans hard and they just won’t melt into the mouth!” Some logic indeed.

This soaked Daal would be rubbed with the palms so that the husk separates from the Daal and then the water would be drained. Along with the water the lighter weighed husk will be collected in a separate bowl. My Ma makes delious Paranthas using the husk, the next mornig, so nothing is wasted! What would ultimately be left would be clear split seeds of the Daal, slippery and soft.

 

Next would be the grinding job. Talk of using an electric kitchen machine and my Ma would give it a disdainful look as according to her it is the ever faithful grinding stone that brings out the best out of the Daal! She ginds the Daal very laboriously and try as hard as I may, the grains of Daal just slip away from the hold of the grinding stone when I try my hands at it. It sure requires some skill in handling it. Once the Daal is ground, she grinds pepper, green chillies, asafoetida, coriander seeds, and cumin seeds on the grinding stone. The aroma of the freshly grounded paste fills the entire home and I feel like taking it in my hands and tasting a bit of it. My Ma would scold me as she would, on no account, make us eat any ingredient of Behdwaans till she has fed it to gods! Mixing the paste to the Daal she is ready with the stuffing to fill the dough balls with!

Now she would test the dough and if she finds it soft and well risen, she starts rolling the Behdwaans. It seems an easy job, but it is not so easy as it requires a special skill otherwise the stuffing comes out of the rolled helping in your palms. The Behdwaans are to be made by hand and not to be rolled with the rolling pin. These are put on a Changer that is a flat bamboo-made basket, specially used to spread these Behdwaans. Once again they are covered with a cloth and left to rise.

Now a deep frying pan would be put on fire and slowly the Behdwaans would be put in the steaming oil and they would puff up.

Deep fried till they turn golden and the stuffing inside is cooked properly; these Behdwaans are put, ready to be savoured. I enjoy eating them freshly made, hot and steaming, and sometimes would eat them dipping in home made ghee. Now don’t tell me that it is fattening. It is a delicacy for which I would sacrifice everything.

I always keep on watching for the stuffing material to be left unused as my Ma fries it deep and it turns into sumptuous Bhallas that are immersed in creamy curd sprinkled and garnished with coriander leaves and other ingredients to suit individual taste.

And would you believe that I bring from my Ma’s home a big helping of Behdwaans as all my colleagues wait eagerly for this sumptous delicacy whnenever I go visiting my Ma.

Try your hand at making Behdwaans this Diwali but don’t blame me if you are unsuccessful as I have given you enough warnings for the tricky procedure that it entails.

Ingredients:For Dough: 

Wheat Floor:                I Kg

Baking powder:            half tsp

Yeast:                           2 tsp

Milk:                            100gms

Ghee:                          100gms

Mix all these, knead the dough and leave it to rise till well risen and soft.

For Stuffing:

Maah Daal:                  500 gms

Coriander:                    1 tsp

Jeera:                           1tsp

Asfoetida:                     a pinch

Chillies red/green:          to taste

Salt:                              to taste

Green coriander to garnish the stuffing.

Mix the groundDaal with the ingredients and fill in the dough rolls. Deep fry till golden brown and serve hot with ghee.

For Frying:

Refined oil:  500 gms

Why do I Take Refuge in the Past?

I always used to wnde as to why I take refuge in the past though  I know that past is a dead memory. But is it true that past is a dead memory and needs to be buried deep in th labyrinths of layers? It is paradoxical yet true that nothing lasts forever, yet nothing ends forever. How beautiful! I find answer to my question as to why past gives me refuge and why I am not able to get away from the mamories of my past?

Stamped Impressions: The First Day Covers

The day my father used to bring home a First Day Cover, I would be ecstatic! The world of unknown would unfold in front of me and I would be busy, for a while, reading the information on the brochure of the first day covers. Bauji had only one addiction in his life and that was to buy the new stamps being released by the Postal Department! I could never value this as a child but was happy as it satiated my curiosity to know more and more. Even today when I look at any stamp, somewhere in the window of my mind comes the image of having seen it as a maiden stamp!

But there is another reason, a more solid reason, that the First Day Covers have left a stamped impression on my mind!

It so happened that during my childhood I became a victim to an obnoxious habit. But as my mother used to say in local dialect “why to blame the dog for eating it up,  if you leave the Kheer uncovered?” I feel it was my father’s mistake that he would hang his coat every evening at the set place and the pocket of the coat would be bulging with papers as well as money. Though we were not denied what we sought during our childhood but still our each and every demand, too, was not fulfilled. It must have resulted in some dissatisfaction on my part as I wanted so much which neither God nor my Bauji would be liberal to bestow on me. I must have wanted to be like some other girls who spent so much money in the school tuck shop.

I don’t know what happened, perhaps I would have been reprimanded for making more demands that could be fulfilled, but once a thought came to my mind, “what if I get some money out of the pocket of Bauji’s coat, he would not know about it.” Moreover I thought, “What difference would it bring to him, if I take just 10 paisa out of his pocket.”10 Paisa used to be a big amount for a school going girl. I am talking of sixties! I stole my first coin, one fateful evening, when no one was around. Looking back I find that the job required real courage as we lived in a Lower Bazaar house that was quite small and anyone could have turned up at any moment! But I was not caught. I was jubilant! Ad what a pleasure it was to spend that 10 paisa Today it may seem unrealistic but in those days the famous Nathu Halwai of the Lower Bazaar Shimla would give 2-3 pieces of Barfi for 10 Paisa! So one can imagine how good I felt owning such an amount.

And what began as a one time affair, sadly, became a habit. Everyday, stealthily, I would walk to his coat that seemed to invite me and put my slim fingers inside the pocket and would take out whatever coins it would hold to. I had no qualms for the 10 paisa coins even and even fifty paisa coins would be stolen! But luckily I would never take anything else than coins, no currency notes.

I was never caught as Bauji was not a very organized man when it came to money matters. My mischievous courage had no limits. I became a favourite among my school friends as I was spending money. Money sure buys you, among other things, friends! But there was a problem and this “problem” was my elder sister who was a year senior to me in school. She became alarmed on finding me surrounded with “fair weathered” friends and threatened to report home about the bad influence it may have on me. Fortunately she was not able to know anything about my spending spree. But my fertile mind wanted to tackle the problem before it became a real pain in the neck so I shared some goodies with her, too, one day. Her eyes were full of questions but I told her that I found a coin somewhere on the road and, simpleton as she was, she believed. But how to make the same excuse everyday, was weighing heavily on mind. But the lure of money and the goods that it bought for me, made me take such a risk everyday.

Unfortunately, my day arrived. Like any other day, I stole some coins and was happy. But it was the fateful day when I was caught. My Ma asked for some money as she wanted to buy vegetable from the vendors who came from the local surrounding areas, early in the mornings, with fresh supply. Bauji tried finding some loose chillers in his pocket and was surprised to find them missing from there. I was sitting comfortably as I knew that he won’t know. But he knew that day and asked, “Who has taken money from my pocket?” Everyone was surprised at this question, even I was, as I never thought him to find out about some missing coins from his pocket. No one answered. I, too, pretended to be innocent about it.

When the questioning became stringent, my sister told him, “She finds money everyday near the Telegraph office.” As we studied in Dayanand Public School and walked past the Telegraph office everyday, hence I had been telling her this as a spot where I occasionally would find money! My Bauji, the epitome of love, suddenly transformed into a man that I had never seen him like and even today I can feel the pain of the thrashing I got that day. I didn’t go to school that day, rather could not just go owing to marks on my face and back! You can imagine what must have happened. Parents of my time were real parents who had the right to beat us for solid reasons!

It had so happened that the earlier day, Bauji had bought the First Day Cover and Knew exactly the amount of loose change in his pocket and had the good chance of catching the culprit. I cursed his habit of buying the First Day Covers! Even today, when I buy stamps or put stamps on an envelop, the pain of his thrashing resurfaces somewhere in my being.

But it made me a different person, henceforth! The “stamps” left a stamped impression on me to last my life!

Letters to my Little one-6

 

The Parting
September 23, 2006

Dear Little one,

How can I forget the parting look that you gave me when I was to enter the gate of theDAV
College where I was to make a presentation and you had to go wherefrom to the Bus stand! It was hard, very hard for me to leave you behind or was it that you were leaving me behind. What difference does it make as it was the end that was the same, we were to part and God knows when to meet again. I was getting late, was rather already late but this time getting late was no issue for me. As usual you were behaving like a mature person to tell me to go inside. I looked back and found you, too, to be looking back. How it tore my heart. I was at the gate now and wanted to give one lasts look towards you, you were getting into the car and once again our eyes met and the arms waived in a parting gesture.

Once inside the Conference Hall, I was a little immersed in the proceedings of the presentations and to be honest, your thought was there at the back of my mind but was not the only thing in my mind. In between I kept on thinking about where you might have reached by now and was a bit worried as well as you were carrying so much luggage on your own.

But you had been a strong child at least so far will power is concerned so I was certain that you can manage on your own. Suddenly my mind was filled with remorse at the unjustified practice of providing support to a person who claimed to be weak and to leave everything on the shoulders of those who claimed to handle everything on their own. You fell in the second category, just like your Ma!

In the evening we started back home. I was missing your presence in the car as your smell still permeated the very inside of the car. I remember how in the morning you had asked me to come to the back seat as you wanted to sit close to me. When we sat together holding hands, no words were needed to say anything more. I put my legs on the seat and sat cross legged so that you could keep you head on my lap. I didn’t need to say anything as you put your head on my lap and cuddled like a small baby on the seat, still holding my hand!

How small and vulnerable you looked and suddenly I was filled with a strong sense of protection towards you. Despite the fact that you claimed to be such a strong girl, I could see at that time how you needed to be pampered. You knew what transpired my mind and opening your eyes said, “I can take care of my own self, don’t worry Ma.” How close we are to each other, how easily we can read each other without ever using any language.

But that was in the morning and this was the evening when everything had changed. Both of us were moving in opposite directions—I was coming back towards home and you were moving towards what would be your home for some time now on!

The silence, in the car, was killing me. Your papa, too, was driving without having uttered a single word till then. We seemed to have lost our voice or the connecting thread—you. “Please put some music on” he said. Perhaps it was getting to his nerves as well. Without looking for what cassette I was putting my hands on, I put it to play. “Purani jeans aur guitar…” the song that you sang as a child filled the car. Can you believe, my little one, what happened to me. I started to cry. I muffled my sound as I didn’t want your papa to be unduly disturbed on account of my crying. I remembered this song so well—one of your favourites during school days and you had got this recorded to a cassette. Such a coincidence it was!

I didn’t change the cassette as I wanted to face the reality, the reality of living my life where you would come to meet me off and on but would not be there every time that I came home from my work place. I was surprised when your Papa asked me to change the cassette. It was so strange for him to remember the song as well. Though he never said much but we knew that he possessed some uncanny sense of knowing everything.

I knew life would not be same anymore but I could not just stop you from moving ahead and that too when you deserved much more. I know how good you are and how could I stop you just because you gave me a feeling of togetherness? It would have been selfish on my part.

We reached home very late, perhaps it was 1 AM but as soon as I opened the door, I could sense your presence everywhere. Your clothes lay everywhere, your books spread over the entire home. And more importantly your smell permeated the very being of us. I knew that I would put your clothes somewhere and arrange the books in your cupboard but the sweetness of your being a part of my life would be there never to be put anywhere else other than my heart. You belong to my heart and would live there forever.

Love

Ma

General Post Office, the Mall, Shimla

Whenever I go to Shimla and look at the magnificent and historical building of the head Post office on the Mall, I feel like rushing to it Now you would say, “What is the big deal about it, who stops you from that? Is it not a public place—a post office?”

It is not merely to buy stamps or post a letter that I want to go inside but to re-live some of my childhood days! The feeling of belonging to this building would be so strong in me that I felt it like my second home. And why should I not as had it not been a second home to me during my childhood? During the recent Shimla visit it was high on my agenda but like so many of my plans, this one could no be fulfilled for the simple reason that it was Sunday and the Post office was closed.

Though I could capture its timeless beauty in my camera. Back home watching this building by enlarging different portions became my favourite pastime and when I could not contain my curiosity any further, I picked up the phone and called up the Senior Superintendent of Post office, Mr. Kushal Vashishth, who happened to be the son of our very dear friend. I wanted to know so many things from him. “Was the recreation room that had some three wooden almirahs, full of books, still there and also the carom board?” I could se myself peeping inside the almirahs and getting books issued to be read. I still remember some of the titles. Strange it may seem today but it shows the kind of impact it had made on a young mind! Perhaps my reading habits had originated or say got the right fillip in this very room! “Yes, the almirahs were there and had some books as well” he said, “But the room has been shifted to some other place these days.”  “And the canteen that served hot tea to the employees?” I continued. “Still there” the answer reassured me that there were still links that would make me experience some of my childhood days.

I remember rushing to the post office as and when I wanted as there was no restriction for us to either enter or to go to the recreation room though we preferred to go in the evening. We children were, many a times, trained in some cultural activities where we represented the postal department. There lies an old snap somewhere that has us singing a patriotic group song “Ham hain is sansar ke nanhe sipahi…” It was such a good experience to play and learn and read in the evenings in the corridors of the post office.

In good old times, the post office employees club used to arrange for movie shows, in the building itself, organized by the Public Relation Department If I remember correctly, these shows were discontinued when someone broke off one of the main door glass panes that we were told had come from Great Britain and there was a big problem replacing it as the similar one was not available! How people compared quality of the British glass with that of the indigenously produced glass! And I wondered, “Why are they saying so much about the quality maintenance by the Angrezi Raj!”

The green and the red coloured building has upheld the same looks as it had many years back. It has not grown old with the passage of time, at least from the exterior!

There are so many of the little tit-bits about the life and love that the building filled me with. It must have been a great influence on me as today after almost 40 years I am able to see myself running inside the corridors of the post office as a 10 years old girl!

I don’t know what childhood impressions my children carry about the NIT family but I do wish that they may be as sweet as are mine!