KACHCHE AAM KA ACHCHAAR (RAW MANGO PICKLE) – A RECIPE BY THE GOVERNMENT OF INDIA

After the recent petrol price hike, the Congress functionaries and supporters – of which there are a few thousand, especially in the media and think-tanks – came out in support of the hike on the grounds that the aam aadmi (common man) suffers or has nothing to gain by extending petrol subsidies that only the middle class and the rich enjoy. They claimed that such subsidies do nothing for the aam aadmi since he has as much use for petrol as the male of the homo-sapiens has for sanitary napkins; he doesn’t bleed (by a petrol price rise) and hence doesn’t have to contain the bleeding in a sanitary napkin of subsidies. Aam aadmi? First of all, I find it rather strange that I and my ilk are not included in the aam aadmi. I am reminded of Spike Milligan who started one of his hilarious books (I think it was ‘Monty – My Part in His Victory’) with this observation, “Every sunday I used to accompany my parents to the church and give money and alms for the poor. I used to find it strange since we were actually the poor.”

What is the definition of the aam aadmi? He can’t simply be the poor man because then he would have been called ‘Garib aadmi’. Thanks to the abysmal failure of our policies and family planning measures, we keep adding to the number of the poor in the country. At last count, in the eight northern states of India, we had more poor than in the entire Africa continent. Could it be that the rural people in the country are called aam aadmi? But then, after spending 37 years in the Indian Navy, I turned out to be the poorest in my village in Shimla Hills. No, it can’t be. I think very possibly, it is a term coined by the Congress to indicate people other than those who make noise about lack of governance, lack of government policies and visions, and about rampant corruption. Anna Hazare, Baba Ramdev and millions of their supporters can’t be the aam aadmi since they are routinely subjected to measures ranging from derision to forceful eviction and even arrest. They are often told that the “supremacy of the parliament should be respected” since parliament has been elected by the aam aadmi. Could it be that aam aadmi is the one who votes blindfolded?

RK Laxman’s aam aadmi or the common man

I think it gets more and more complex and we shall never get to the bottom of what exactly is the aam aadmi, except probably the perception by the government that the aam aadmi has already been rogered enough and can’t be rogered any more. Could aam have anything to do with the king of fruits in India – aam (mango)? Initially, when the idea occurred to me, I brushed it aside as a figment of my contorted imagination (the only type that God was left with after giving the best to Congress functionaries and supporters, as given above). But, the more I looked at it, the more I got convinced that that’s what Congress means: aam aadmi is the one who can afford nothing more than an aam (mango) with the above-poverty-line budget of Rupees 28.65 in urban areas and Rupees 22.40 in rural areas. And certainly not an aam of Alphonso variety; most probably the kachcha aam (raw mango).

Here I must indulge in a bit of nostalgia (to hell with my own ‘Nosey About Nostalgia’). When I was small, this is how my nani (maternal grand-mother) used to make kachche aam ka achaar. She used to pick raw mangoes and chop them into smaller manageable pieces. Then she would keep them spread out on a white sheet on a cot and let the sun season them for several days. This would reduce them to approximately half their size or less. Then, one day, she would garnish and season them with various spices, seasonings and salts and then put them in a jar of sarson oil. Kachche aam in jars would be kept like this for several days in the sun until nani would declare one fine day that they had matured and had been pickled. A similar process is followed by the government for the aam aadmi. You would guess the comparison, starting from cutting them on the lines of religion, caste and creed and ending with seasoning them in oil. Nani could very well have been made a minister in the government.

Here I must let out a secret. Initially, this article was called ‘Kachche Aam Ki Chutney’ but then, one spokesperson from the government, someone named Abhishek Singhvi, got in touch with me and said it would be too revealing after the (shocking) petrol hike of Rupees 7.50 and would give further “fuel-for-fire” to a certain Didi from West Bengal.

One of my friends, in his fit of frustration, went to petrol pump today and the following conversation took place:

Attendant: Kitne ka dallun? (How much should I pump in?)
My Friend: Bus do teen rupaiye ka spray kar de; gaadi ko aag lagaani hai (Only spray worth two-three rupees; I want to set my car on fire)

I was reminded of a RK Laxman’s old cartoon; in this a burly sardar taxi driver had gone to the bank and demanded angrily, “Remember, you gave me a loan to buy this car? Well, I want another to buy petrol now.”

I am told that in India, now onwards, petrol will be called ‘Cough Drops’; a few drops and you have to cough up more money.

Oil drop or cough drop?

The argument that the petrol prices should be raised because the aam aadmi doesn’t use petrol makes me think that the government can raise the prices of almost everything in the country since the aam aadmi, if I have got the definition right, hardly uses anything at all.

pic courtesy: aeonestudy.com
This morning, when, as usual I drove to my office; on the way, I saw some badly bruised people sitting on the road-side. They told me they were hit by a hit-and-run reckless vehicle. I went a little further and saw hundreds of stunned, bruised, injured, robbed and deceived people. I asked them what happened? They said they were hit by a reckless government. (Read ‘How Proud Should We Be Of Indian Republic At 62?’)

THE BEST OF ZINDAGI (LIFE) SONGS

One would think that Hindi movies have obsession with Pyaar and Mohabbat (Love and Romance) and Yaad (Memory) and Chand (Moon). However, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that the Hindi movies’ biggest obsession is about Zindagi or Jeevan (Life). In a way it reflects we Indians’ fixation about unravelling the mysteries of Life; which, lightheartedly, is very different from an American’s fascination with Life: “Dad” asked the American son of his father, “Can I ask you something about Life?” Dad, expecting the embarrassing question, gingerly responds, “Go ahead, son; ask without fear.” And the son asks, “Why are we not subscribing to it (Life magazine) anymore.”

1984’s Hit Television Serial

Hindi movies and television, though, are refreshingly different about Zindagi (Life). You’d find songs covering every aspect of Life. Lets kick off with this 1956 movie ‘Jaagte Raho’ (Remain Vigilant). The great Shailendra was the lyricist. Shailendra hada long association with music directors Shankar Jaikishan (Punjabi-Gujarati duo) and the show man Raj Kapoor who liked his poetry in a mushaira (Poetry Recital Meet) in Mumbai when Shailendra was working in Indian Railways. This was in 1947 and Raj Kapoor immediately signed him for his 1948 film ‘Aag‘ (Fire). Jaagte Raho was produced by Raj Kapoor and he was the hero in the movie; but, the movie was directed by Amit Maitra and Sombhu Mitra. The song talks about Zindagi (Life) being a Khvaab (Dream) and hence there is no sach (truth) and no jhoot (lie). Mukesh, who sung almost all songs for Raj Kapoor sung this too. The music though is not by Shankar Jaikishan but Salil Chaodhary. The song is almost a satire on Life. The actor in the song, the one who is drunk, is Motilal:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GQZaG5SZRYk

Lets jump to 1972 movie ‘Piya Ka Ghar‘ (My Husband’s House) about Life in Mumbai (then Bombay) and the lack of privacy when large families stay in small flats with common bathrooms and toilets, and when water is so scarce (nothing has changed in Mumbai after so many years). The movie was a comedy directed by Basu Chatterjee starring Jaya Bachchan and Anil Dhawan. Anand Bakshi as lyricist and Laxmikant Pyarelal as music directors made the most popular hits in the Hindi movies without any extraordinary philosophy. However, the theme song of the movie had Life’s philosophy described in very simple terms: ‘Ye jeevan hai is jeevan ka yehi hai yehi hai rang roop; thode gham hain, thodi khushiyan hain, yehi hai yehi hai chhanv dhoop‘ (This is Life and this is its colour and face: some sorrows, some joys, here only you find sun and darkness):

Now, lets talk about what appear to be two opposite thoughts about Zindagi (Life). The one is by what I regard as the greatest lyricist of all times Shakeel Badayuni (Read ‘The Best of Old Hindi Songs: Rafi, Shakeel, Naushad and Dilip Kumar Together‘) writing these immortal lyrics for 1948 movie Mela (The Fair). The crux of the song is that we, as human beings, are too small entities in the Fair of Life; we are like drops in an ocean and whilst we give ourselves lots of importance, we must remember that the world can go on very well without us as it has done before and will do later. ‘Ye zindagi ke mele duniya mein kam naa honge, afsos hum na honge’:

The other is by the great Sahir Ludhianvi for the 1961 movie ‘Hum Dono‘ (Both of Us). Actually, if you pay attention to the lyrics, both mean the same. In Hum Dono, Dev Anand in this song thinks of Zindagi in the manner of Miller of Dee, ie:

There was a jolly miller once
Liv’d on the river Dee ;
He danc’d and he sang from morn till night,
No lark so blithe as he.
And this the burden of his song
For ever us’d to be
I care for nobody, no, not I,
If nobody cares for me.

Likewise, Sahir in this song says:

Jo mil gayaa usi ko muqaddar samajh liyaa – 2
Jo kho gayaa main usako bhulaataa chalaa gayaa
Main zindagi ka saath nibhata chala gaya.
(What I found, I thought of it as Destiny,
What I lost, I forgot about it
I gave full company to the Life)

What about Zindagi (Life) and Pyaar (Love)? The best on this theme is this Rajinder Krishan written song for the 1953 movie Anarkali () starring Pradeep Kumar and Bina Roy. Pradeep Kumar acted as Prince Salim who later became the emperor Jehangir. Salim revolted against his father, the Emperor of India Akbar over his love for a common girl Anarkali. C Ramchandra gave the music for the song. C Ramchandra was in love with Lata Mangeshkar, who, in order to teach him a lesson, was instrumental in ruining his career; even though he composed music for many songs sung by her including the famous ‘Ai mere watan ke logo’ Lata Mangeshkar though sang the song for Anarkali didn’t pay heed to the lyrics in relation to C Ramachandra: ‘Ye zindagi usi ki hai jo kisi ka ho gaya, pyaar mein jo kho gaya‘ (This Life belongs to the one who belongs to his love and is lost in such love):

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1eFso_5-bFc

Talking about Life devoted to Love, how can we forget the other immortal number of Anarkali by the same team of Rajinder Krishan and C Ramachandra. This one, though, is sung by my favourite singer Hemant Kumar. Hemant Kumar Mukhopadhyay or Hemant Mukherjee was a Bengali singer who was born in Varanasi. He sang for the All India Radio in Calcutta and his first movie as Music Director was the 1947 movie Abhiyatri. His first Hindi movie came in 1952, Anand Math. He was a leading exponent of Rabindersangeet. Most of his songs in Hindi movies have a special atmosphere built around them, eg, ‘ye raat ye chandni phir kahan‘ for the movie ‘Jaal’ and ‘yaad aa gayin vo nasheeli nigaahen’ for Manzil. This song for Anarkali brings out that even though Life of Love is short, but it is still a Life worth living. One can have crown, throne, and all the riches in the world; nothing is more precious than Love. “Zindagi pyaar ki do chaar ghadi hoti hai”:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HCViCUyk9-g

When it comes to Life of Love, I don’t suppose one can find better words than the Pakistani lyricist Qateel Shafai for the 1973 Pakistani movie Azmat. I can be forgiven for this not going entirely with the songs from Hindi movies. However, one, the song is a composition beyond compare; and two, Mehdi Hasan, the gazhal singer is as well known in India as in Pakistan. His ghazals such as ‘Ranjish hi sahi dil hi dukhane ke liye aa‘ and ‘patta patta buta buta haal hamara jaane hai’ would set afire any mtiushaira in India. The strain of the ghazal below is: “Zindiagi mein to sabhi pyaar kiya karte hain; main to mar kar bhi meri jaan tujhe chahunga” (In their Lifetime many Love their beloveds; I am the one who’d love you beyond Life too.” It is worth listening to over and over again:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AfBS-8Fs5sI

The next Zindagi song has its music composed by another great Bengali music composer Salil Choudhury who helped Hemant Kumar find his feet in the Hindi film industry. Salil’s genre is to have the music tune go up and down with the emotion of the song. His best, of course is from the 1960 movie Parakh: ‘O’ sajana barkha bahar aayi, ras ki fuhaar layi, akhiyon mein pyaar layi’ (Read ‘Rains And Our Songs’). His music literally pitter-pattered with the rain with the words: ‘aise rimjhim mein ho sanam, pyaase pyaase mere nayan; tere hi khvaab mein kho gaye’. In the 1970 unforgettable movie ‘Anand’, he brought out similar magic in this Zindagi song written by Yogesh: ‘Zindagi kaisi hai paheli hay, kabhi ye hasay, kabhi ye rulaaye‘ (Life, what a riddle it is; sometimes, it makes you laugh, at others, it makes you cry):

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3vgDb4TQneA

Whichever way you look at zindagi, whether as a love song or as a sea of sorrow, you have to live it. Here is some sane advice about zindagi given by the lyricist Sawan Kumar whose most popular song in the Hindi movies was ‘Teri galiyon mein na rakhenge kadam aaj ke baad’ for the 1974 movie Hawas. No one, therefore, can give him credit for great philosophy or emotions (eg, ‘shayad meri shaadi ka khyaal dil mein aaya hai’). However, surprisingly, he wrote this gem for the 1983 movie ‘Sauten’ (the other wife). Some credit for the song also goes to Usha Khanna as the music composer. Please pay attention to the lyrics whilst playing this; ‘Zindagi pyaar ka geet hai‘:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M9YGUkKphsg

Zindagi, for some, though can be a painful episode and they pray to the one who has given them Life to cut it short for them and recall them. The first one on this theme is a song by one who wants God to terminate his Life. The song is from the 1953 movie ‘Dil-e-Nadaan’ starring Shyama and Talat Mehmood. Shakeel wrote the lyrics and Talat himself sang since he was the king of ghazals in India. It is plaintive cry to the Creator to hear that his heart is burdened by Life since here in this world he died whilst still living (this happens with those who lose everything in love) (Zindagi dene waale sun teri duniya se dil bhar gaya):

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WVI_PsOm84I

The other is about the one whose Life is being terminated prematurely by God due to a terminal disease like cancer: ‘Zindagi ka safar hai ye aisa safar, koi samjha nahin koi jaana nahin…..aise jeevan bhi hain jo jiye hi nahin, jinako jeene se pehle hi maut aa gayi’ (The journey of this life is such a journey that nobody knows, nobody understands….such lives are also there who haven’t really lived, who were visited by death even before living). Indeevar wrote these lyrics for the 1970 movie ‘Safar’ (Journey) and Kalyanji Anandji provided the music. It is a very soulful number sung by the great Kishore Kumar:

I end with the lyricist Shailendra writing these wonderful lyrics for the greatest music duo Shankar, Jai Kishan for the 1971 movie Andaaz. Once again Kishore Kumar sang the song. Kishore Kumar was born as Abhas Kumar Kanjilal Ganguly. His active career was nearly of four decades when he made his debut for ‘Ziddi’. He was the most versatile personality in the Hindi film industry: singer, actor, composer, producer, director, screen-writer and script-writer. His movie ‘Door Ka Rahi’ was a one man show in most of his avatars. The song has a sane advice (though given in flambuoyant style) that Death will any case get you in the end; why should you go through the journey of life by being anything but happy (‘Zindagi ik safar hai suhaana, yahan kal kya ho kisane jaana’):

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R_806iQ86Ns

What lesson do we take about Zindagi (Life) then? Is it a dream? Is it a moment of Love, of Sorrow, of Pain? Life goes on without stopping for us to pause and think. Perhaps, if we pay attention to poets as above we can have a few carry-home points how to live Life. There are many really good Zinadagi and Jeevan numbers I had to leave out. However, there is one poem I don’t want to leave out. It is so Lyrical: Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s ‘A Psalm of Life’:

Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.

Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us farther than to-day.

Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.

In the world’s broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!

Trust no Future, howe’er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act,— act in the living Present!
Heart within, and God o’erhead!

Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;

Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o’er life’s solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.

Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.

In short, as Faani Badauni wrote: ‘Zindagi zinda dilli ka naam hai; murda dil kya khaak jiya karte hain‘ (Life is translated as Liveliness in Heart; those who have Dead Hearts, they cannot call their Living as Life)

NOSEY ABOUT NOSTALGIA

The Present is just a moment – a fleeting moment; whereas the Past is an accumulation of memories. Our memories are based on personal experiences and hence they are dear to us. We, therefore, idealize the past and yearn for it. This is called Nostalgia, a word derived from the Greek νόστος (nóstos), meaning ‘homecoming, and ἄλγος (álgos), meaning ‘pain, ache’. Just like Depression, Nostalgia was, at one time, thought of as a psychiatric condition, a form of melancholy. It is only in the early Modern Era that the word got associated with yearning for the ‘good old days‘.

We have nostalgia concerning all our five senses of Hearing, Seeing, Smelling, Touching and Tasting. We are, therefore, nostalgic about, for example, old songs, sepia coloured pictures especially of our childhood, smell of crayons in our first classroom, the touch of our mother’s hand as she guided us through the busy city streets and the taste of our tiffins carrying lunch that we used to savour sitting under a tree next to the playground.

Are there any scientific studies done on Nostalgia? Yes, there are but not enough. Scientists feel that the recall of our memory about something gives a stimulus to amygdala or that part of the brain that gives us emotions. The trigger for Nostalgia is something from the past. Our emotions about the past can be happy or sad. However, in the present context, Nostalgia is generally about happy memories of the days gone by.

What exactly is Nostalgia broken down to its commonest sense? It is a fact that we do like the present when it becomes past. There is a good one about a mother telling her son who was making fuss about eating what she’d cooked, “Eat it. Years later you’d be telling another woman how good your mother cooked.”
As long as we are aware that we like all Nostalgia about a miserable present until it becomes past, we shall be happy with that old gramophone we struggled with and which still gave screechy sound in comparison to crystal clear digital sound of today.
Pic courtesy: ucl.ac.uk
In our minds, we should go back to those exact times that we are nostalgic about and see if we really liked them at that time. A friend of mine put up a facebook post about the era of the postman and nostalgically reminisced about the postman visiting us leisurely and reading to us our letters and delivering money orders. Others have written about walking to the school (there were no buses those days) and breathing in the invigorating air. It is yet another thing that we hated being chased by the street dogs and hated walking in the scorching sun but the filter of Nostalgia leaves out the bad memories. But I guess if we don’t have nostalgia we can say bye bye to about 50 percent writing in the world; including this one.
 There is, therefore, romanticism about Nostalgia. For example, this Kishore Kumar song from the 1964 movie ‘Door Gagan Ki Chhaon Mein’ (Far Under The Sky):
Albele din pyaare, mere bichhade saathi saareHaay! Kahaan gaye, haay! kahaan gaye(Wonderful lovely days, all my friends I parted from
Oh, where are they now)

Koi lauta de mere beete hue din,
Beete hue din vo hai pyaare pal chhin.

(Someone, return to me my past,
My past, those dear moments)

Main akela to na tha, the mere saath kayi,
Ek aandhi si udhi, jo bhi tha leke gayi
Aaj main dhoondu kahan, kho gaye jaane kidhar

(I wasn’t alone, many were with me
A storm came, what was there it took away
Today, where should I search for those that were lost)
Beete hue din…

Mere khvabon ke nagar, mare sapno ke shehar,
Pee liya jinake liye, maine jeevan ka zehar.
Aise bhi din the kabhi, meri duniya thi meri.

(The towns of my dreams, the cities of my imagination
For them only I drank the poison of life
Those were the days, when my world was my own)
Beete hue din…

And for those who’d prefer to hear this thought in English, here is Mary Hopkins singing ‘Those Were The Days’:

Finally, the Moral of the Story: Treasure every moment when you have it rather than when it is gone.

In short when you get a tooth pulled out you miss the slow pain it used to cause and your tongue goes to the exact spot nostalgically. However, you should relish the moment at the dentist’s chair too.

God, I am becoming a Saint in my old age. Let me love it now rather than later when everyone has finished hating me for writing this post. One of my friends feels that the word ‘Nostalgia’ gives a feel as if it is a nose-related problem. In which case, one can imagine a doctor prescribing a tablet like DCold to have with warm water twice a day after meals. Sounds far fetched? Think again: the other day a drug called scopolamine was in the news. If the powder is blown into your face you have an instant loss of memory and are immediately cured of Nostalgia. Perhaps later scientists will discover a drug whose powder, when blown into our faces will convert all our bad, sad, horrible and unpleasant memories into ‘good old days’.

Nostalgia indeed.

ROGER LIVES

In the morning my wife and I sat before the Sri Guru Granth Sahib; the holy book that has guided us for several years and which has been a gift to me by my mother on my birthday after my father died on the 1st of May 1984 in a jeep accident (Read: Seventy-Eight Not Out). An appropriate way to begin the Mothers’ Day? Yes; but, there was another reason to say formal prayers today. It was one year back that the entire family sat at Parel Pets Hospital (The Bai Sakarbai Dinshaw Petit Hospital for Animals at Parel) having cremated our bundle of joy: Roger just two months before his twelfth birthday. For a long time after we cremated him – I reminisced today about the scene one year ago with my younger son, Arun – the entire family sat in a trance as if moving away would somehow break a link.

We didn’t know it at that time but the last few breaths of our baby

Today’s waak (select reading as a blessing/teaching) was from Raag Sorathh and was written by the fifth Guru of the Sikhs: Guru Arjan Dev ji. As if answering my wife’s and my persistent (though unspoken) doubts it clearly brought out that Hari (God) looks after you wherever you are in the Brahamand (universe) before and after death. A very comforting thought indeed. Roger has to be somewhere in the universe; he couldn’t have died. He must be having another assignment somewhere, another family to love, another place to spread the joy of his being, another mama and papa to go to walks with, other children to play with. (Read: Roger And Us – A Love Story Without An End)

Just next to the Crematorium – No Entry? Well, it was No Exit

But, we are mere human beings: we are neither gods nor dogs (both anagrammatic, both meaning the same). So, whilst wishing him the best in his new surroundings, we don’t mind telling that we miss him everywhere in the house. Here’s Roger coming to greet me in the morning just two weeks before he went. In our earlier house, the beds were low and he could have jumped up to hug and play. But, in our house after retirement, being a small house, every little space has to made use of. Thus, the beds are high with storage space under. Also, Roger had become too old to jump up.

The pitiable look for not having been able to jump up

But, if one mama has gone for bath, Roger would be on the mat just outside, patiently waiting to be fussed and hugged:

i
Waiting patiently outside the bathroom door

In the end, since all of us, that is my sons and I, went for our work, my wife had Roger with her as her child and companion. This is how Roger felt safe, secure and comfortable with her:

She would pick him up and put him on the bed

When he was alive, we frequently complained about the ticks and his falling fur. After he went away, one day, my wife found a few strands of his fur and we were elated as if we had found a great treasure.

I am too small a being to question about God’s Creation. However, I have to admit that I have often questioned about God’s wisdom in having a mismatch between our normal ages and those of our pets. Under normal circumstances, we, having been born earlier, would die before our children. However, in case of our pets, sadly, they die before us. I was thinking of an answer to this and then one of my friends put up a beautiful piece on the facebook. I immediately commented that it was the best post I ever read. It is not my intention to repeat the complete piece here. But, here is the gist:

Pic Courtesy: Carole Hughes
A Dog’s Purpose?
(from a 6-year-old).

“Being a veterinarian, I had been called to examine a ten-year-old Irish Wolfhound named Belker. The dog’s owners, Ron, his wife Lisa , and their little boy Shane, were all very attached to Belker; but since there was no hope against cancer, the dog was to be given euthanasia.Ron and Lisa felt it would be good for six-year-old Shane to observe the procedure. They felt as though Shane might learn something from the experience.

The little boy seemed to accept Belker’s transition without any difficulty or confusion. We sat together for a while after Belker’s Death, wondering aloud about the sad fact that animal lives are shorter than human lives. Shane, who had been listening quietly, piped up, “I know why.”

Startled, we all turned to him. What came out of his mouth next stunned me. I’d never heard a more comforting explanation. It has changed the way I try and live.

He said,”People are born so that they can learn how to live a good life — like loving everybody all the time and being nice, right?” The Six-year-old continued,”Well, dogs already know how to do that, so they don’t have to stay as long.”

And where do dogs go? Well, we know where Roger went: to another part of the universe to spread his message of abiding love.

Roger Lives.

He is somewhere around….it is just that we can’t see him.

THE LURE OF GOING ON A LIMB

Yesterday was a sad day indeed; Shailendra Singh Bisht, a 26 years old mountaineer crashed to death whilst rappelling down the 14 storey Great Adventure Mall, which had just been inaugurated in Greater NOIDA by the union minister Subodh Kant Sahay. Shailendra was a professional stuntsman who had performed this feat several times. Little did he know, however, that the rappelling rope was almost 100 feet short of reaching the ground. At the speed at which he had rappelled, he would have reached the end very fast.A few weeks ago, during an adventure camp at Zenith Falls near Khapoli, Maharashtra, when I saw my younger friends rappelling down a difficult rocky hill, I too got the urge to do the same. Here I was, a 58 years old retired Navy officer, as far removed from hills and rappelling as you can get, unable to suppress the impulse to do those things that the trio in the film Zindagi Nahin Milegi Dobara (You Can’t Get Your Life Again) had the urge to do; literally dying (as the slang goes) to stay alive.

Sunbyanyname in his own Zindagi Nahin Milegi Dobara

There are men and women who do sky diving, suspended in the air as birds, opening their parachutes at the last minute. Then there are others who do tight rope walking between high-rise buildings defying death. One slip and precious life ends. However, they have this inner compulsion to accomplish the near impossible.

On 21st of January this year, Laura Dekker, a sixteen year old Dutch/German/New Zealander became the youngest person to circumnavigate the globe single-handed. At that age she had the greater part of her life ahead of her. She started in Aug 2010, a year after she had planned, when a Dutch Child Care Council stopped her departure on grounds of shared parental custody between her about-to-be-divorced parents. Dekker later commented about the authorities in an interview, saying “They thought it was dangerous. Well, everywhere is dangerous. They don’t sail and they don’t know what boats are, and they are scared of them.” As soon as I read the news, the first thing that occurred to me was the mental set-up of someone as young as her, braving seas, known and unknown dangers alone, all alone for more than a year. If something was to happen to her, she would have died a solitary and lonely death and probably even her dead body won’t have been found. And yet, after she has accomplished what she set out to do, she would have removed a number of words from her dictionary: Fear, Impossible, Small, and Underage.

Laura Dekker the youngest person to circumnavigate the globe (pic courtesy: in2eastafrica.net)
So, what makes men and women to go out on a limb? It can’t be fame and glory since there are much easier and less dangerous methods of obtaining these. One possible clue is given by a mountaineer who was asked why did he climb mountains. His reply was, “Because they are there”. Something within a person beckons him or her to go beyond the limits of human endurance and capabilities…beyond the rainbow; when you are face to face with only your Maker or yourself. Do you remember what Ian Fleming the author of James Bond books said? He had a book by that name: “You Only Live Twice: once when you are born and once when you look death in the face”.

Men and women would do anything to live and soar, even die doing it. When I was in my teens Richard Bach wrote his novella titled ‘Jonathan Livingstone Seagull’. The story is about the gull called Jonathan Livingstone who is bored by routine existence and wants to push his own capability to fly beyond what the seagulls can do. Because he wants to try something different, he is expelled from the flock. However, he persists and one day achieves perfection. “You’ve got to understand that a seagull is an unlimited idea of freedom, an image of the Great Gull.” He realizes that you have to be true to yourself: “You have the freedom to be yourself, your true self, here and now, and nothing can stand in your way.” The idea of Richard Bach’s novella fascinated everyone immensely. Neil Diamond brought out a complete album of songs named Jonathan Livingstone Seagull with such songs as: Be, Flight of the Gull, Lonely Looking Sky, The Odyssey, and Dear Father. Here is Neil Diamond’s ‘Be’ for you:

Well, ladies and gentlemen, there may be other good reasons for men and women to go out on a limb. But, I have given you what I believe to be the best reason to do so.

 

NEW YEAR RESOLUTIONS

I wrote in an article (‘Happy New Year’) in this blog on 1st of January this year, that there is actually nothing New about the New Year and that this is, as indeed is Time, an invention of man to end one’s worries, habits, biases, proclivities, unhappinesses, mistakes, and sadnesses and thus begin afresh with a new resolve and of course new worries, habits, biases etc.Hence, it is not difficult to conclude that the best use of the so called New Year is to make Resolutions. These are not written in stone like the Ten Commandments but these are the ones which give us hope (about ourselves) and fresh strength to put a little order in our messed up lives.
However, lets not get carried away by the lofty resolutions. Experience teaches us a lot. If we have been running the Sprint in about 33 seconds for the last several years, the New Year Resolution is not going to help us to break the world record. It is, therefore, helpful to read the signs of the experience and see what each of the resolutions actually means after a few hours/days:
1. I will not drink anymore
  • Until I get up at least.
  • I will not drink any less either.
  • I will not drink unless I have company.
  • I like my company.

2. I will not worry unnecessarily

  • No one has my circumstances.
  • I am little more conscientious. How can it be called worrying?
  • Someone has to worry.
  • In any case I don’t worry about small things.

3. I will be regular with walks and calisthenics

  • Once in a fortnight is fairly regular, isn’t it?
  • What’s the use? She doesn’t come to the gym/walks anymore?
  • 90 kgs is still less than 100, isn’t it?
  • I have seen the fittest getting heart-attacks.

4. I will be more forgiving

  • As soon as I have finished breaking the SOB’s teeth.
  • Gandhi wasn’t so practical, you know.
  • You have no idea what she did to me.
  • I have tried this. He thought it was my weakness.

5. I will become more punctual

  • Alright, but how about improving traffic, bus and train services?
  • Me, the only one? Sitting alone in office, function, date?
  • There are people who slip in much after me.
  • Is there a fire?

6. I will become more positive

  • You can’t be a lotus in filth.
  • I am just being realistic.
  • Glass half full? Have you seen the muck in the water?
  • Who invented the parachute?

7. I will be more charitable

  • You think the b____s are poor because of me?
  • I have worked for every penny that I have.
  • They misuse these funds all the time.
  • People just show off with charity.

8. I will not waste time on unproductive activities

  • Our group on facebook is quite intellectual.
  • I am a thinking man.
  • Some people are so unsocial.
  • Sudoku is good for the brain.

9. I will spend more time with the family

  • I would but the kids don’t want me.
  • Our last holiday in Matheran was a disaster.
  • There is a generation gap.
  • They actually want to be left alone.

10. I will not lose my temper even with unreasonable people

  • Is it only for me? What about the other party?
  • One should call a spade a spade. I am only being factual.
  • I never start an argument.
  • There is always a limit, you know.

I think one reason that the New Year Resolutions don’t work is because we let the Mind do most of the thinking. We should, once in a while, let the heart be in control. It may just work.

SUPERWOMAN

Is that what you think of when you imagine Superwoman? Well, my friend Kamakshi Karuna Kapilavai, with her infant son, feels differently. Recently, she put up a quote from Edgar Watson Howe on facebook, “If there were no schools to take the children away from home part of the time, the insane asylum would be filled with mothers.” She says that she received many comments on posting this. But she isn’t locking up her kid somewhere or wishing him to be away. All she wants to know is if mothers are actually supposed to be superwomen; is it wrong for them to find some time per day for their sanity?

Kamakshi with her son

Recently, I wrote an article A Father Is Just A Father, But A Mom Is Life It was an acknowledgement of the fact that in Indian society a mother’s role is much bigger; she takes care of everything at home: from washing, to cleaning up house, food and drinks for everyone, and moderating (in many cases tolerating) everyone’s moods and emotional outbursts. In the midst of all this, bringing up a child is a full-time job. And, there is no break. The kid has got indefatigable energy. By the time a mother finishes doing up the household chores, the kid – of the age that Kamakshi has – shifts from part time attention to full time atention. He is inquisitive, active, curious, and wanting to do things. Kamakshi’s son, as seen in the picture above, is of the age as depicted in the ditty below:

We used to wash his hands for him,
But now that he is not so small,
He washes his own whilst we just,
Wash the soap, the sink and the wall.

By the time she finishes playing with him, answering his difficult questions (there ain’t any easy ones that they ask), attending to his every need and generally amusing him; the husband is back from – you guessed it right – work. I am a man, a father; but, I know that at least men have a change of scene: from home to office to home; and probably a few other locations. After a hard day’s work, for him, it is time for television, sudoku, probably a drink and listening to music. However, for her, the work, that never really got over, starts all over again.

What about reversal of roles? Here is a good one on that:

A family of five was going out for a picnic. As soon as everyone finished breakfast, she told the husband, “Lets do things differently today. Why don’t you collect the dishes and put them in the sink, wipe up the kids, help them put on their shoes, turn off the switches in every room including that of the geyser, leave the garbage out; whilst I will go down to the car and keep pressing the horn?”

So, what does she really want? One: sometime of the day that she can call her own; and two, a little empathy. The first one is not just to recharge batteries but also to know that there is more to life than a fixed routine in which sheets are getting dirty and need washing, maidservant has to be tackled (and these days tackling means great skills on which a lot of How to books can be written), the AMC man for washing machine needs to be called, bills have to be paid, shopping for vegetables and fruits has to be done and plants have to be watered to say the least. Can you get servants to do all this? Try it; and if you have to do dusting as well, you are pooped like a cow being milked. And then comes the child.

Why am I saying all this? Have I gone off my rocker? Have I  left my ilk in the lurch? Not really; I too am convinced that I work much harder than my wife, and am able to attend to many many things, including writing this blog. However, I am not into cyclic work; my work has a definite beginning and an end. And, unless I pretend, I do get time to myself for Sudoku et al after I reach home weary.
And, there is one more reason: who knows in my next life I may be born a woman; and then….

“A man’s work is from sun to sun, but a mother’s work is never done.”
Or in other words: “Mother of small kids work from son up to son down.”

ROGER AND US – A LOVE STORY WITHOUT AN END

Roger, our darling, would have been twelve today. On his birthday, my wife Lyn used to put a red ribbon around his neck. The day used to start with family prayers in front of Guru Granth Sahib and Roger would know when exactly the Prashad would be served. Feeding him Prashad on his birthday was the greatest joy we had ever experienced.
Today, as we said our prayers and distributed Prashad, we hoped in some manner Roger would get the whiff of it and taste it.
Dear Roger, now that you are with God, don’t forget your family on this day that is so precious to us. I am sure you must be keeping them all busy in Heaven just looking at you, cuddling you, fussing you.
Happy Birthday, Roger. May God be with you always.

Roger was not part of our life…he was our life. After his sudden demise, my elder son Arjun phoned me and said they had lost a brother. Roger, the sheer joy that you brought into our lives, right until your end at 1145 hrs Friday, the 13th May 11, will be everfresh since you touched our lives in a myriad happy ways. Arjun said that you would have never wanted to see us sad. We shall learn to get out of this mood at your sudden departure. We know, our darling, that you came into our lives simply to Love and Cherish. And both you and us have more love left to shower on one another when we meet next.

Until then, we shall remember, every little way of yours: how you made the whole family run to catch you when you were small. How you gave us a lick when overwhelming love came over you; how you shredded the pillow into bits thinking of it as a toy; how you ran out of the house when accidently you found the door ajar and we had to continue coaxing you with commnads of “get inside, Roger”; how you loved riding the car, Maruti Gypsy, bicycle…anything that moved; how you prepared to welcome guests coming home…how you sat facing the kitchen when mama was readying your meal..how you knew papa was coming home even when he was miles away…how you greeted us at the door everytime we returned from outside even when we were late…how you never wanted to be left alone…how you loved us…and how we loved you.

 

We have a whole new vovabulary because of you; a routine of the day we can’t get out of…we shall miss moving our hands in your fur and giving a gentle squeeze to your ears…we shall miss taking you for walks and playing with you..and hugging you and holding you tight.

Other day, a friend asked me, Roger, why do we miss our pets so much when they go? My prompt reply: Because, unlike our friends, relatives, sons and daughters, pets don’t have any independent life. Their total life is with us and for us. A dog loves us more than he loves himself.

Thank you, Roger, for teaching us how to Love.

We shall never forget you, our baby.

Here are some of our memories of you, not in any particular order:

 

All set to receive Prashad

 

How you loved to be taken for a ride, Roger?!!
Always looking for cool places.

 

Scared of Diwali crackers and hiding

 

Always loved his bath

 

Not liking Papa being busy in Paranayam
Enjoying music in Arjun’s room
Always being where the family is
“Enjoying” a movie with Arun

Despite all the toys…..
……Papa’s slippers were the favourite toys.
And Our Dearest Roger, we shall always remember you as…..
Reaching for the stars…
Come any festival or occasion, you will somehow again get into the scene and the pictures…

When we enter the house, we shall know you are waiting for us at the door…..
Wait for us, Roger; we shall join you there one day and then we shall again be a loving family together; loving one another like you taught us to.

RAINS AND OUR SONGS

Other day I read a beautiful quote: “Some people love to walk in rain; others only get wet.”
What makes the difference? You need to see Gene Kelly’s 1952 ‘I’m Singin’ in the Rain’ to know the difference. Listen to José Montserrate Feliciano García singing ‘Listen to Pouring Rain’ to know the difference. He was a blind Puerto Rican composer who couldn’t have seen the rain; but rain is not meant to be only seen.
Listen to the pouring rain,
Listen to the rain pour;
And with every drop of rain,
I love you more…

Let it rain whole night long,
Let my love for you go strong;
As long as we are together,
Who cares about the weather?
Listen to the pouring rain,
Listen to the rain pour.”

Rain means diffrent things to different people. To some it means an obstruction keeping them from what they want to do; they only get wet and are annoyed with the rain. Others enjoy getting drenched in the rain. It is a welcome experience.

 By and large, I believe, lovers love the rain as it brings them closer. An Urdu couplet says:

Badal tu itna na baras ke wo aa na sake;
Aur jab aayen to itna baras ke wo ja na sake”

(Translated:
“Rain cloud, hold on please so my beloved can arrive,
And when she does, pour so much that she can’t return”)

Various communities in India have different songs, in their own languages, about the rain. In the state of Uttar Pradesh (UP) since rains are brought by East winds (in Hindi “Poorba” or “Poorvaai”) they have songs about how pleasant is Poorba. In Punjab, the rains, called sawan (pronounced saunh) remind you of what all you can do during the rains, eg, eat fried sweet delicacies. So on with other states. Maybe Indians just love to love and love rains in many different ways.

Only a few decades back, when we were kids we were so eager to sing, “Rain rain go away; come again another day”. But now rains are welcome.


My favourite Hindi songs have a special place for rains (sawan).

Sawan ka maheena, pawan kare sore,
Manva re jhoome aise jaise banva naache more
(Rain month is here, the breeze touches you pleasantly,
Mind dances with joy in the manner of a peacock dancing in the forest)

In folklore, somehow, rains affect no one as much as lovers, and separated lovers at that. Taste this:


Saawan ke jhule pade hain,
Tum chale aao….
Aachal na chhode mera, pagal hui hai pavan
Ab kya karun main jatan, dhadke jiyaa jaise panchhi ude hain
(The swings for the rains are out, my love
Come be with me.
Playing with my stole, the breeze has gone crazy,
Now what should I do, my heart is beating like the flight of birds)

Or listen to the lyrics of Raja Mehdi Ali Khan in the 1967 movie Anita, with playback singer Mukesh singing these:

Saawan ke din aaye,Beeti yaaden laaye,
Kaun jhuka ker aankhen,
Mujhko paas bithaye;
Kaisa tha pyaara roop tumhaara,
Poochho mere dil se, hai
Tum bin jeevan kaise beeta, poochho mere dil se

(When the rainy days came,

They brought past memories,
Of the one who sat beside me,
With eyes looking down.
How lovely you looked, my love;
You have to ask my heart.
Without you how I lived,
You have to ask my heart)

Sawan must be a great all round friend for all of us that we get so excited by its arrival. According to me, and pardon me for getting mushy, if you haven’t ever enjoyed walking in the rain you are missing something in life. And, if the following (Mohammad Rafi and Lata Mangeshkar in Ishq Per Zor Nahin, a 1970 movie) doesn’t touch you, nothing will:


Yeh dil diwaana hai,
Dil to diwaana hai.
Saawan ke aate hi,
Baadal ke chhate hi,
Phulon ke mausam mein,
Chalte hi purvaai, milte hi tanhaai,
Uljha ke baaton mein,
Kehta hai raaton mein,
Yaadon mein kho jayun,
Jaldi se so jayun,
Kyunke saanvariya ko sapno mein aana hai
.”


Phoolon ke mausam mein
(This heart is crazy,
Crazy is this heart, because,
On the oncoming of rains,
In the shadow of the clouds,
In the season of flowers,
When the East winds blow, and when I am alone,
It gets me entangled in following talk,
In the nights:
Sleep quickly my master,
And get into the world of memories,
Because your beloved has to meet you in the dreams)

There are songs and songs on rains. Finally, my all time favourite is by the Music Director Salil Chaudhary, who composed music for this song from the 1960 movie Parakh in such a way that you not only get the pangs of separation but the pitter-patter of the rain that makes the separation unbearable:

“O sajnaa, barkha bahaara aayi,
 Ras ki phuhaar layi, ankhiyon me pyaar layi,

O sajnaa

Aisi rimjhim mein o sajan, pyaase pyaase mere nayan,
Tere hi, khvaab mein, kho gaye,

Saanvali saloni ghataa, jab jab chhayi,
Ankhiyon mein rainaa gayi, nindiyaa na aayi
O sajnaa …”

[lineate][/lineate](O Love, rainy season is here,[lineate][/lineate]That brings the spray of nectar (of love),[lineate][/lineate]And longing in the eyes.[lineate][/lineate]

A view from my house in Kharghar

[lineate][/lineate]In this pitter-patter, my love, my eyes thirst for,[lineate][/lineate]Dreams of you in which I lose me,[lineate][/lineate] Dark clouds of rain when they come,[lineate][/lineate]My eyes look for you in the nights, sleepless)[lineate][/lineate]

Saawan, folks, unfetters dreams…..

BHAG BHUAJI IS NO MORE – AN ERA ENDS

Bhag Bhuaji Left Sitting with her entire family

My Bhag (short for Bhagwant Kaur) bhuaji (in Punjabi we pronounce it thus rather than the Hindi ‘buaji’; father’s sister, in Hindi) died at about 10 pm on 30 Jan 11. With that an era has come to a close. She was the youngest of my father’s three sisters; the elder one, Jaswant bhuaji, was the eldest in the family of five brothers and three sisters (all dead now except Meji chachaji, the youngest of the siblings). Then there was Ratno bhuaji, younger to Jaswant bhuaji. She died a few years back; at a relatively younger age.

My bhuajis were the reincarnation of love and kindness. My grandfather’s family had strong charactered men; each one a perfectionist in his own way. The men, including my father, were extremely ambitious and hence given to anger and frustration. It was thus left to my bhuajis to bring some semblance of compassion and calm in the family. They had these in abundance. It was natural for them to think of others without asking for anything in return. I cannot remember a time when I saw them without a radiant smile on their faces and the desire to make the best of any situation.

Bhag bhuaji (L) and my mom (R)

Bhag bhuaji, just like her two sisters, was very beautiful indeed, both from within and outwardly. When she smiled, which she did all the time, her nose stud would shine and make her look even more radiant. She was in awe of my father; what with his always being in a hurry (he died young; he won’t have wanted to keep God waiting). But, she loved him unconditionally, as she did the rest of the family.

Bhag bhuaji loved family gatherings

Hospitality came naturally to her. Bhuaji and my uncle lived in Chandigarh. There were no occasions when we passed through Chandigarh on the way to Himachal (where my dad served) without looking them up. As we would enter the house, without ever seen by us or seemingly ordered by her, one of the kids would run up to the sweet shop to fetch fresh ghulab jamuns, jalebis, and samosas for us. These would be in addition to the goodies at home such as gajrella (sweet carrot dish), pinnis (round sweets like laddus made with wheat and dry fruits) and kheer (sweet made with rice and milk and dry fruits). Irrespective of the number of people for whom bhuaji would have to suddenly make meals, bhuaji would do so smilingly, and indeed whilst cracking jokes. Her youngest son Monty’s wife Manjit has inherited these virtues. Last time when I visited Bhag bhuaji, as if she knew it was going to be the last time, she had invited all the near and dear ones for lunch with me. Manjit cooked delicious food for everyone; there were nearly three dozens of us.

She was fond of Rana, Ratno bhuaji’s son

Bhag bhuaji, mummy, and sisters would be at their best during weddings. They would enjoy dancing and bolis and tappes (folk singing with a view to invite rejoinders) and indeed encourage others to do so. One of them would play the dholaki (traditional Punjabi drum) and the other would rythemically beat it with the back of a spoon. And this with all the work at home.

On one of the occasions when I visited her, she made me climb up the loft to fetch a carton of beer with just two bottles

Bhag bhuaji and my mom at Rana’s party

in it. She explained, “Munde khunde beer pee rahe si; main ohna nu keha Ravi layi do botlan rakh layo” (The boys were having beer one day and I told them to keep two bottles for Ravi). I was touched. Generally, bhuaji looked down on anyone drinking. But, since it was offered to her jawaai (son-in-law), her quick reaction was that me being a fauji (armed forces man) would probably relish it. There was nothing strange about her keeping beer for me; she did it for everything that would make others happy. For example, if anyone would appreciate the taste of her saag (spinach), kheer or anything, she would freeze it and keep for me.

Our last picture together

In our recent life, after my father died, Bhag bhuaji visited us in the hills only once since she was very scared of driving in the hills. She enjoyed the scenery, the freshness of air, trees and flowers. Encouraged I thought of taking her and others for a picnic to the forest around Chail. We made a small fire for heating up the goodies that we had carried for lunch. Suddenly, Bhag bhuaji looked around and remarked about the remoteness of the place and the likelihood of a sher (lion) jumping on us. I thought she might be joking but the more she talked about it the more she convinced herself that there was ample likelihood of sher surprising us (even though there were none in that forest). Finally, we quickly packed up our stuff, not because of being surprised by sher but by rain. After the rain stopped I took her to the Chail cricket ground atop a hill (reputed to be the highest cricket field in the world during the days of the rajas). As she climbed the last of the steps to the cricket field, she came up with her characteristic remark, “Aithe cricket kidan khed de honge; aithe tanh uppar chad de hi saah chad jaand hai?” (How would anyone have played cricket here; one is breathless just by climbing up here).

Bhag bhuaji in America, just prior to 9/11

Truly, in her observations, fears and anxieties she would become a small girl. She would be a small girl in the family gatherings too. A few years back my youngest uncle Meji in America invited the surviving siblings, that is, Pitamber Uncle, Dilgir Uncle, Bhag bhuaji and my mom (representing my dad who died in 1984 of an accident) to spend time with him there. Their visit coincided with 9/11. Bhag bhuaji was very excited telling all of us about the US and its quality of life; but, she also added, “Main nahin uthe wapis jaana. Asin uthe gaye tanh ohna ne saare paase bomb sutne shuru kar ditte.” (I am not going back there; they started chucking bombs all over when we were there). Indeed, Bhag bhuaji, her three brothers and my mom were there in Washington when the attack on Pentagon took place. Some of her fears were not so girlish afterall.

Bhag bhuaji and me

For the last two years or so Bhag bhuaji had lost a few teeth. She had a renal problem and had to go for dialysis twice in a week. One would think that with her age and this problem she would have complained or forgotten to crack jokes. No; when she laughed through her missing front teeth, it made her look even more cute. There was never any problem that would make her complain or forget to enjoy life and company of those around her.

For me, just like my dad, I never missed out on visiting her even if it were for a few minutes. She would often tell everyone, “Ravi nahin maiton milne bgair jaa sakda.” (Ravi would never cross this place without seeing me).
So tell me bhuaji, when I visit Chandigarh next, where should I come to see you? You always thought of everything; did you think about this too?

IF DAD AND MOM HAD TO CELEBRATE VALENTINE’S DAY

We don’t have to go as far back as my grandparents times; if Valentine Day had to become popular during my dad’s times, how would it have been? My dad died of an accident when he was just 56, one year younger than I am now. During his days, except for in movies, couples never publicly expressed love for each other. It would be indirectly hinted rather than ‘in-your-face’ proclamation. There were no Valentine Day cards or other accessories.

Now lets suppose it was to be imposed on my parents, how would they have reacted? The entire conversation would have been in Punjabi but I think we would understand it better if I translate this imagined conversation:

Dad: In the office there is lots of talk these days about Valentine Day. I wonder what it is?
Mom: How should I know? I have tough time remembering all the other days: Republic Day, Independence Day, your birthday, our Anniversary Day, Holi Day, Baisakhi Day, Diwali Day, Christmas Day…
Dad: But, Ladi, there are all thinking of partying and singing love songs and saying I love you.
Mom: Chhi, chhi. What kind of zamaana (world) we are coming to?
Dad: They are also thinking of buying gifts, and…
Mom (cutting him short): That’s a wonderful idea ji. We should get new shoes for Ravi, another frock for Mona and…
Dad: No, Ladi, the gifts are for us, that is each other.
Mom (seriously and smelling him): Did you have a drink in office?
Dad: No, I am serious, we should get something for each other.
Mom: Who told you that?
Dad: I believe this Valentine was a saint and he told that.
Mom: He actually told to waste money on unnecessary gifts? He couldn’t have been a saint. These western saints will next tell you to forget all decencies of life, will you do that?
Dad: But, Ladi
Mom: Suno ji; you should forget about this Valentine thing at the earliest. We are happy without him and his crazy ideas. Our children are growing up now; don’t forget that. Mona has already started wasting a lot of time in front of the mirror and Ravi has started growing feathers. What if they come to know their parents are getting influenced by some foreign sadhu? We would have cut our noses in public.
Dad: I think you are right. I got carried away.
Mom: (not giving up too soon): What else were they saying?
Dad: They were talking about appreciating one’s partner?
Mom: (wistfully) This you will never be able to do. For the last twenty years I have been cooking for you; you have never told me it was good what you ate.
Dad: (shocked at this ‘unfair‘ inference) But, I ate everything without complaining, didn’t I? What more do you want?

Mom before going to sleep, totally satisfied with the argument, would have known that words/cards/songs/memorabilia were never necessary to convey deep emotions.

Even to this day she tells us, “Your dad would never eat out anywhere without me. And when we went out for parties, he would always return home complaining. So, in comparison, I knew that he liked my cooking.”

Mom: (Later at night, holding my dad with all her strength) You don’t require lessons in love from some phoren saint. You would have taught him a thing or two.
Dad: (half asleep) Main tanh makhaul kar rahiya si (I was only saying in jest).

I know why no outwardly gifts, V-Day cards etc were considered necessary during pre-Valentine days. The reason is that they gave each other something that modern couples can’t give, that is, time. They did not require a day to compensate each other for all the lost moments of togetherness….of love.

Happy Valentine’s Day. Perhaps, we should love all the year through like my dad and mom did. And yours too.

HAPPY NEW YEAR

There is absolutely nothing to suggest that God had intended any particular day or event to be more important or significant than the others. It appears that in God’s scheme of things every month, hour, minute and second is an old one dying and a new one being born.

And yet…

And yet we have special days: our birthdays and those of people close to us, our anniversary, graduation day and days of festivities.

New Year is really different. It appears that if we didn’t have something to peg our lives to there won’t be any beginning or end to anything.

HNY1

The Guru Granth Sahib talks about God being there before the Universe and that He would be there after the Universe. In the Bhagwat Gita there is a description of God saying that He is the Beginning and the End. Therefore, in order to avoid ourselves into falling into the illusion (actually reality!) of a Universe without Time, we have ourselves devised the Calendar year.

The other day I shared a discussion in latest issue of the Time magazine that until the sixteenth century there was no particular date to celebrate the Birth of Christ. According to the Bible He was born sometime in Spring. It was only then that the Pope decreed that it should be universally accepted as twenty-fifth of December. Nowadays, we have become so sacrosanct about this date that at the stroke of midnight on twenty fifth December we burst into sudden rejoicing for Christ having been born.

India too got its freedom from the British at the stroke of midnight, universally accepted as the beginning of a day.

It is really very convenient for us. Timelessness, as God had intended, would have killed us; we won’t have known what to do with it. In the olden days, we measured time by the Sun and the Moon or the changing seasons. Indeed, there are many Hindi songs about measuring time likewise; eg, “Chaand phir nikla, magar tum na aaye.” (Moon is out again, but my Love has still not returned); or “Tere bin saawan kaise beeta” (Love, do you have any idea of how I the monsoons weighed on me without you).

HNY2

There is an article in my blog titled ‘The Virtual World‘ on this issue. It may just be worth reading it to remember that the concept of Time that we have devised, just like any other virtue, makes all of us to live in a Virtual World. And yet, when a lover gets affected by Time playing tricks on him awaiting his love, we tease him for living in a world of his own.

So, there is as much New about the New Year as is about every moment.

HNY3

However, having said that, lets realise that Time is amongst the best known discoveries or inventions of Man. If it hadn’t been for it, Life would go on without any newness! Everyone would use relativity of time (which it is) than absolute terms to describe events, eg, Boss to Employee, “You are later than Sunita in coming to office but, you are earlier than Rakesh. Next time, be earlier than the most”.

Or, the train is late today but is earlier than it was last summer.

Or, Happy New Year to those in India now. In Europe, wait for another few hours.

Since all this is, in any case, an illusion (maya), there is one thing that depicts it really well; it is the New Year Resolution. Since, we set the meter to beginning or start again, we are filled with great resolve to reset our Life starting….well, you guessed it…the stroke of midnight. Some of the popular resolutions are:

HNY4

  • I shall lose weight.
  • I shall give up smoking/drinking.
  • I shall stop worrying.
  • I shall be kinder to my parents.
  • I shall become leaner and fitter.
  • I shall stop lying about small things.
  • I shall become more punctual.

The illusion of these resolutions lasts for a few days and then we realise that the year has become as old as everything on earth must and we don’t have to treat it with renewed resolve. We slip back into timelessness!

So, friends, Happy New Year 2011

HNY5

I resolve that in 2011 I shall write at least fifty percent articles about things that at least fifty percent of the people around me can understand if they find time to read them. For the others who actually rejoice in ‘Ignorance is Bliss’ (which is exactly how God intended it to be):

Aage bhi jaane na tu,
Peechhe bhi jaane na tu;
Jo bhi hai, bas yehi ik pal hai”
(Future is unknown to you,
Past is not known,
What IS, is only this moment)

Rejoice!

SOUNDS OF SILENCE

“The stars of midnight shall be so dear,
For her and she shall lean her ear,
In many a secret place;
Where rivulets dance their wayward round,
And beauty born of murmuring sound,
Shall pass into her face”.

Despite our love for silence that Wordsworth and others wrote endless verses about, the fact is that sounds and noise never leave us. We want to hear, we want to be heard.

As soon as a child is born, we want to hear him or her make a sound..any sound. For, unless you make a sound, there is no proof that you are alive.

Is life a cacophony in which the louder you are the more powerful you become? Or, is the reverse true? Despite all the shibboleths such as ‘silence is gold’, we commonly associate silence with the meloncholic, sad and poignant. Happiness and joys, on the other hand, have sounds…happy sounds.

“Hontho ko si chuke to zamane ne yeh kaha,
Yeh chup si kyun lagi hai aji kuchh to boliye”
(The moment I sewed up my lips, the world asked me:
Why does silence reign? Speak something at least.”

According to the Hindu religion silence within and without is the attainment of greatest joy. The Hindu philosophy has it that even thoughts make sound. And, if you can shut off all sounds, even those of thoughts, you are one with your God.

And yet, we never want to be silent. Honking, crackers, screeches, shouts, loud speakers and even blasts become parts of our life. We go as far away from tasting life as from the true flavour of tea by adding sugar.

There is so much to be heard in silence but we become immune to it. Here is how Wordsworth described it:

“THE world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers:

Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!”

“See it with your heart, ’tis mere joy” said he. Guru Nanak too described it as a music that can’t be heard with the worldly senses given to man.

“Chup hai dhartii, chup hain chaand sitaare,
Mere dil kii dhadakan tujhako pukaare.”
(The Earth is silent (my love)
And so are the moon and the stars,
The only sound that is there,
Is that of my heart beat calling you.”

No, silence can’t be sad or stifling or melancholic.
Silence is the beginning of the condition,
In which you hear sounds you had never heard before.

Try it.

JO BHI HAI BUS YEHI IK PAL HAI

I am so unsure of myself when I glance at forecasts, horoscopes and what the stars foretell. The reason is that I don’t know whether to believe or not. However, I often read the horoscopes to confirm that my experiences are – laugh if you want – according to some cosmic plan! Amongst all the forecasts, I found that the late Peter Vidal’s were the truest for me. Lately, I found that the Blackberry’s daily Horoscope comes close to my situation. Here is my Horoscope for today:

“You are stuck in a rut, Gemini, and the stars are urging you to dig out of it. What? You did not know you were stuck in a rut? That’s the worst kind of rut – the one that you don’t know you’re in. If you are feeling a bit stifled or if it seems you have become lost in a particular routine, you need to shake things up. It isn’t that staying this way will harm you, but going beyond your current pattern will be the first step in building a bridge that can take you to a much more attractive place. Don’t be afraid of change.”

It can well be argued that it is a very general statement and with a little variation can fit just about anyone. However, I am surprised at the confirmation of my current state of mind. Is there something to it afterall?

I don’t know whether the total people on earth can actually be divided into just twelve categories, but, I do know that shaking things up is something that a Geminian is actually good at.

Out of all people on earth, it is probably a Geminian who can be at home singing Kishore Kumar’s ‘Door Ka Rahi’ (Long Distance Traveller):

“Rehguzar mein kai manzilen bhi mili;
Dekh kar ek pal, dam liya phir chale.
Khushi do ghadi ki mile na mile.
Shama aarzoo ki jale na jale.
Har kadam par naye marhale the khade;
Ham chale dil chala, dil chala ham chale,

Khushi do ghadi ki……”

(On the way, I came across many a destination;
I saw, rested a while and moved on.
I may not get the joy of the moment,
I may not get to see my desire fulfilled.
At every step I found new stops,
I moved, heart moved,

Heart moved, I moved.

I know that when you move on, the criticism that hits you is that you don’t care; you are heartless. Here too I know for sure that a Gemini is probably the most emotional of the lot; the most caring in his/her special way. But, a Gemini is bored with trying to make music with a violin with strings deliberately loosened to make wrong or ugly music. How many times a Gemini is expected to tighten the strings to liven up the music? Why should it be his/her complete responsibility to make things work.

In the end, the more you stick, the more you want to make it work, the more it is uncharacteristic of a Gemini.

No one understands more than a Gemini that:

Jo bhi hai bus yehi ik pal hai.
(All that is there is just this moment)
and…
Dust thou art
and dust returnest
was not spoken of the soul.

INSTANTLY

If this appears deceptively similar to Cliff Richard’s famous number ‘Constantly‘, the similarity stops there. No one has the time these days to do anything constantly let alone to walk in a dream and think about one’s love. These days the world moves ‘instantly‘. No one has time to deliberately do anything or deliberate over things.

At one time we used to hear a song over the Short Wave radio and then hope to hear it again over the next few months. In order to remember the lyrics we would sit with a paper and pencil when the Geetmala would be broadcast again and, if there would be no disturbance on the shortwave, we would be able to fast write the lyrics, or, most of those. Nowadays, we download any number from the You tube and not only hear it but also see its video; and, have its lyrics before us instantly.

Take the case of photographs. Even though it is obvious, let me say it. Earlier we used to take pictures of the family during the holidays or engaged in diverse activities. We used to get them printed and stick them in the family album and then invite unsuspecting guests at home; and sort of lead them into viewing our album. They were forced to show interest whilst waiting for the dessert to be served (No one ever took the risk of showing those pictures after the dessert). But nowadays, we put them up on facebook even when the event is going on and enjoy the attention. The plus point is that we don’t get to see the yawns and the furtive glances at the watch.

Remember how we used to cringe when visiting a friend’s house and the couple insisting that we must see merit in their son Gaurav performing as Gabbar of Sholay with a dacoit’s belt loosely hanging from his shoulder. Now we go through the videos in our own time. We don’t have to match our comment, “How cute Gaurav looks!” with our own (disgusted) looks. In addition, we can instantly subject the sender to some return torture (like return gifts on birthdays) of seeing our own son Vivek doing the rendition of Michael Jackson’s moonwalk.

Television too projects pictures and news for us instantly. Gone are the days when a politician’s denial of his involvement in corruption would be read after a week. Nowadays, thanks mostly to his media-managers, his denial appears instantly whilst the scam is being aired. Do you remember when Pramod Mahajan was shot? When he was battling with life, the media used to instantly show details of his innards, knowing well that most of us are genuinely interested in the inner news.

At one time we used to deliberate over national and international issues and then form our views and much later express these. Nowadays, Twiiter has made sure that important views of such leading personalities as those who specialise in having views on everything under the sun are instantly available. It is another thing that we had never known that these worthies had any views on anything until then; but, then, a view is a view. Everyone, from Obama to O’ mama, is reduced to 140 characters.

Earlier, we would get news from the battle front days later. Nowadays, the scenes of the battle are instantly flashed before us even as the first shots are fired. Many so called war-correspondents vie with one another in reaching news to us before the bullets hit the targets.

Thankfully, in all this intantaneity there are two things that still move at leisurely pace and we are sure never going to change. One is something called a ‘File‘ in government offices. Its movement is exactly at the same pace as, say, in 1949. From noting number 1 to 478, all aspects of the case are deliberated upon at great length. Some of these notes are tagged Immediate, Most Immediate, Urgent etc but there is never any undue hurry. Five years later, the File, knowing that in the fable of the Hare and the Tortoise, it is the latter that wins, crawls even slower than the tortoise.

The second is the Indian judicial system. A fast moving case is often the one, which has advanced from being posted to its fifth hearing in about five years time.

In most other things everything is instantly done. For example, it used to take many years from love at first sight, to marriage, to children, to divorce. Nowadays, before you can switch channels on a television the divorce is through and the guy, having been instantlyfree again, is enjoying honeymoon with the second wife in Pattaya.What about instant fame? Have you forgotten Prince? He became instantly famous and rich by the sheer bad luck of falling in a 40 feet open hole; the exact opposite of golfing term, that is, one-in-hole.

Many of us, however, still miss the slow pace at which things used to move. There were no ATMs, no cell phones to instantly connect to people, ODIs and T 20s. There were no prizes for reading books fast or pressing the button in fastest finger first.

Oh, how we miss those slow moving days? “Dil dhoondta hai fursat ke chaar din...” (Heart searches for those leisurely days).
Alas, no more.
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