Indians: Faustians of the modern era?

A satire on Indian attitude towards life by my husband  Dr. K. Jaishankar:

 

"Once I met my father's friend and he proudly said that his son is a software engineer and he stays abroad. I said, what is there to be proud, as an academic, I also visit abroad frequently with full funding from agencies which invite me. He said that you may visit frequently but my son stays there and works there!!! (Later, I also worked in UK for a small period with a fellowship, lead a quality life of a britisher and came back empty handed!). Staying abroad and earning money is bigger than prestigious fellowships and invitations abroad with funding!! I remembered one joke by two Tamil comedians. One will say that he is 10th standard fail and the other will say that he is 8th standard pass. The 8th standard pass will say that he is bigger than the other as he has passed but the other has failed. So which is Superior? Pass in 8th standard or fail in 10th standard?

In another incident, two years back, one of my neighbour asked me how much bank balance you have, I told NIL. He told that you are in university service for more than 6 years and with your salary you have to have a bank balance of 1 million Rupees. As you have no money in your bank, YOU ARE A FAILURE!! I told that I lead a quality life, I achieved certain things and I invested money in learning new things and progress, which went in to his deaf ears (Now the same person is happy to note that I am building a house with bank loan!! Ironically, In his eyes, now, I am a successful person).

21st Century Indians are conscious of two things: Power and Money. The first one they show it and the other they hold it. The second one if they get free or by corrupt means then they show it fully to the extent that will make others sigh!! The Indian middle class yard stick of success in these days is a bank balance and job in a foreign country to enhance the bank balance. They have lost the idea of living. How many persons who earn a lot, have to time to enjoy the money they have? How many persons, who have power, enjoy their material aspects they possess? Big bungalows in India built by people who stay abroad and earn money are enjoyed by their servants! All relatives of people in power enjoy whereas those people in power do not have time even to eat!

What are we running for: For money to be kept in bank forever!! A job that takes our youth, our energy, our time and we mortgage our life for material comforts which we will never enjoy for want of time! A job that our men become impotent, sterile and our women become sterile and stop reproducing! A job that gives more diseases in young age and takes the money we are saving, to elite hospitals! A job that produces more divorces than ever! A job that gives us prestige, power, but kills us at 30's and makes us a vegetable for the rest of our life. A job that kills us, but makes us to live, without actually living!!! 

I remember a story: Once a rich man got a gold bar equivalent to the size of a brick. He buried that in his garden and daily digged it and checked its presence and enjoyed its presence every day!! Once a neighbour saw it and took away the gold brick and put an actual brick in the night! The next day the rich man found that his gold brick is not there and went aghast! The neighbour came and enquired and said I don’t see a difference between the Gold brick and the real brick, as neither is useful to you!!

We have mortgaged our soul and have become faustians of modern era!! "

Are you planning for strict dieting? Please don’t…

I know there are many women like me who need to reduce weight; who love the dreams where they come back with latest regular size dresses; who love to try new fashion statements but cries inside knowing the hard fact that the dress will not fit them. I am one of those who gained weight due to compulsive eating habit. I know if I have to live, I need to STOP EATING. But is it possible? nah………… in December last year I had the lesson of my life and I stopped the bad habit of dieting .

It was a breezy December late afternoon in the NLSIU campus in Bangalore. I just finished   a presentation on the out lines of my ph.d thesis in front of  the board which had the country’s best motivating law faculties. I felt relaxed. After a week’s stay in the hostel in the  lovely campus and grueling work on last minute touch ups, the encouraging remarks made me feel very happy. I felt mentally relaxed, physically lighter …..well, I had taken up a strict dieting regime during those seven days……the morning breakfast was a masala dosai, the mid afternoon snacks were an apple and two light biscuits, the late evening food was an apple again and the day finished with a pair of bread with no butter ,jam or cheese slice inside.

I decided to spend the rest of the lovely day in the library. I proceeded from the main building towards the other part of the campus which was conjoined by a very romantic little bridge running over a dry drain. The shady trees including couple of bamboo plants gave the place a dreamy look . Long ago I met my husband in this same place and my mind and brain never fail to remember those happy moments. Was I dreaming too much? I felt some one was forcefully pushing me towards the ground; I saw bright yellow flowers all around and suddenly I felt one of those shady trees hit my forehead. A couple of seconds later I realized I am half lying on the ground covered with dry leaves…….I had gone through those dreadful results of “strict dieting”. I managed to grab my water bottle and finish the whole one liter of  “liquid life” within two minutes. When I stood up again I decided that I had enough of it….no more enmity with regular three course meal. I slowly walked to the snacks café near the library and ordered for a “treat” of  puffed rice, chopped onion, tomato, carrot and ‘bhujiya’…….was my body revolting because I managed to say no to this delightful food for past seven days ? Probably yes.

When i came home, the first thing I did was to chart out an exercise schedule. It took two months for me to settle down with the physical exercise regime, but that paid ……I can work more faster, think more positively and feel more healthy. I made exercising a  part of my life.

And never do I say no to food again.

Hail the Supreme Court ruling on Pre-marital sex in India

March 23, 2010 "The Hindu" issue gave me a new thought to experiment and express it  here. The news started with the heading Live-in relationship,pre-marital sex not an offence : Supreme Court ( to be found @ http://beta.thehindu.com/news/national/article285361.ece). True, very very true..........how does it make an offence if two adult human beings want to share their prime times in their lives in the way they wish? This  ruling very successfully snapped the 'honour-activities' of  so called guardians of Indian values by asking "“How does it concern you? We are not bothered. At the most it is a personal view. "  Perhaps this will now pave the way for many single women to get accommodations in busy congested  metro cities with their bachelor partners/ friends/colleagues. Moreover, modern Indian women  have grown  enough matured and responsible to take their own decisions. Economic independence does make a woman stronger to believe in herself.  Honourable judges  asked the crucial question .......did this "interview" encourage girls to elope with men for the first time? Certainly it didn't........ many times men go for pre marital sexual  activities for gathering 'experiences'. Why women who get equal education, equal paid jobs, equal social status , should be considered as the only 'keeper of value system'? 
However, I strongly believe in nurturing good morals in children so that when they reach 'I can live myself' stage , they don't try to experiment the dangerous sex-games which may pull them in physical as well as emotional hazards for their own good. Note that I have  used "dangerous" sex games , which means taking this option just for fun sake  which may pull up health hazards for the individual. But again, living together and experimenting sexual activities with one's un- married partner does not really make an offence as long as he / she is not committing adultery and cheating his/ her existing married partner .  More so, expressing his/her views can only make the respondent highlighted for his/her boldness ......we do have right to express our minds...don't we? 

DAD, GOOD BYE…….IT IS TOUGH TO SAY

I dedicate this blog to relatives of Cancer patients all over the world.

Cancer, one of the deadliest disease mankind is always afraid of, chose to teach me a lesson last year. The “ultimate horror” chose my father as its chosen game last year. I wound not have believed how Cancer spreads if I had not witnessed my father’s slow death spreading over a time of eight months approximately. It was not that Cancer gripped him all of a sudden, but rather I would say, my father invited cancer by being over cautious about his health. It all started with a tooth in the lower jaw which was bidding good bye to this old but healthy 75 year old exercise freak, extremely health conscious gentle man. My father couldn’t accept the fact that he was growing old. Some pricks here and there, heavy brushing for four times a day and the old tooth and the equally old gum started bleeding profusely. My father was panicked, he self doctored himself with strong doses of painkillers and then gave up all hopes when finally my mom convinced him to see a doctor. The after- treatment period was even more irritating for the old couple and my father accidentally pulled out the “stitches”. The cancerous eclipse begun as a result of partly side effects of the strong painkillers he used to take for a long time and partly because those pricks and pins he kept on doing to his gum , cheeks and tooth. The whole family tried to convince him to visit a doctor and not to do self medication.. But he was even more panicked. He listened to none Finally there was no other way than to forcefully shift him to the Cancer hospital .I would never forget that morning….. the healthy 75 year old had become pretty fragile by that time and I was surprised to find that I, the “weak”, “fragile” and “darling” baby of my parents was literally able to command my Police- man father to lie on my lap like a little baby while his attendants carried him to his cabin in the hospital. Thanks to the constant care of the doctors and the nurses , I saw him a little better than the day I “carried” him in the hospital . Every day I used to visit him, but he used to grow impatient, rude and angry and even provoked me to shout equally loud asking him to stop. I didn’t know what was happening to him psychologically. I knew he was eccentric at certain times, but his aristocrat blood never allowed him to loose temper in public before. I contacted the hospital psychiatrist who, later I learnt ,was a specialist in handling cancerous patient’s psychology. After having a glimpse at my father , his expert eyes understood the situation. But he immediately understood that I was neither ready to believe that the beginning of the end has begun. He gave me no hope and told me you must be stronger enough to see the worst psychological out pours. I didn’t understand…….. The doctor left leaving me searching for the reason of his statement.

After a gap of exactly a week when I came back to see my father who was under constant supervision of doctors with my mother patiently taking his verbal brickbats , I felt a sigh of relief as I saw that the blood red swollen lips are healing up . Just a few days back my mother informed me that Chemo therapy has started and my father is co operating with the therapists. I was over joyed, I went to visit my father to the hospital. He was half asleep. I told him dad, “do u know? My name has appeared in the newspapers as I gave a speech on cyber bullying …” he extended his hand pierced with needles and said “show me the report”. I jumped and said “you come home; I will read it to you”. But he was over excited; he asked me which law did you speak about? How correctly he pointed out legal provisions that he has lost touch with, a decade ago…..I felt every thing is going to be fine like before. He has regained his interest …… in his chosen topics. I ran down the stairs, reached home flying in joy and left for meeting a family friend. My dad is coming back to normal life. After the brief meeting, I forced my mother to sit beside the river. But she became stiff suddenly; she insisted we better go to the hospital immediately rather than sitting beside the river. I was hesitant.. After a long time I had seen my dad becoming normal, can’t my mother deserve a little rest? Nah, our Fate decided to tell us the truth now. The phone call came from the hospital, my dad has developed breathing problem. We rushed. I climbed the 5 stories in 5 minutes and a chill went through my spine as I found my dad literally panting for breath even with the Oxygen mask. I CANT BELIVE MY EYES. Minutes after , I couldn’t believe my ears as well, as the duty doctor asked me to sign a bond …… A BOND FOR UNDERSTANDING THAT MY DAD IS GOING TO BE WITH US FOR A FEW HOURS FOR NOW.I was trembling in disbelieve. Hey, come on, in the morning he was telling me the laws…. this can’t happen. The doctors were experienced in handling relatives like me . They politely asked my mom to go home and asked me stay back as long as any male attendant comes to relive me. The hospital was very strict in not allowing women relatives to stay after 12 in the night. I left in the midnight and came back early next morning. The reception desk told me, dad was in the same condition in the ICU. Some how after an hour or so , my soul started praying to the GOD to relive my dad from all pains. I felt strange……... it was not me, but some one else within me who was praying for DEATH. Mother and me forcefully had a chat about a funny incidence but none could smile. I checked my dad.. his left portion started bloating up. The nurse on -duty nonchalantly said “this happens madam , it would be allright”. She witnessed thousand deaths like this and knew the symptoms. BUT I DIDN’T. I ran to the pathological click for some test results and when I came back with a strange uncanny feeling ,I found he has GONE just two minute ago. My mother, as strong as never before, took me to my dad and started rubbing her forehead into my father’s foot. Was she crying? Perhaps……….. but she didn’t want to show me .. my brave mother….

That night I performed my last duty as my father’s daughter with my twin’s photo in my hand . The crematorium ground was calm and serene and I did the last rites . The priest said “you can now leave the mortal remains of your father to the sacred fire”. I was perplexed , I held my father’s feet with my two hands, my twin’s photo still inside my hands and murmured BABA BYE BYE…… my dad’s favorite words that he loved to hear from his twin daughters whenever he went out…………. It was tough, very tough to really say DAD BYE BYE … because this sentence would never be accompanied by another sentence “ SEE YOU AGAIN”. ,

When you have a multilingual baby

www.debaratihalder.co.nr

When I was a little girl, I dreamt of a family- home next to Marina Beach of Chennai, Tamil Nadu. Well , until I grew up , I could not convince my Bengali parents to shift to Chennai due to many valid reasons and I decided to make my own home in my dream destination . But then I had to find a husband who resides there. Aawo……….. I got my dream man too, a perfect Tamil who was ready to fulfill my dream to settle down in the sea side city. I enjoyed every bit of this bilingual relationship, the misunderstandings, confusions, imitating the other language, criticizing the cultures …….. all due to the clashes of two ancient cultures of the world.. ……….the Dravidian and the Aryan. This sweet and sour exchange game became a ridiculous problem when we planned for a baby. I was possessive about the Bengali cultures that my child must accept and the would be father was similarly possessive about the Tamil culture. This tug of war of culture finally ended when the lovely fairy arrived and we decided that better we should adopt an INDIAN CULTURE forgetting North –South division.

But it was not an easy task…we communicated with our girl in our own pacifying languages thinking how wonderful it would be when she starts talking. But by the end of the second year, to our shock, we found our daughter can neither speak nor seems to understand any of the languages we spoke to her. It was high time and we had to admit her to some good school in the following year…. we were heart broken whenever some one else used to compare their child’s grasping power with ours. Time passed on and the baby girl made her own vocabulary giving us tough time to understand what was she conveying. When she was three we decided to put her in the school as we were advised that groups of children often help each other to better their communication skills. Nope……… she was determined to prove us wrong and I as a mother started believing he has serious health problems which is burring her from speaking like other normal children. Another shock……………….the teacher complained that she can’t grasp her pencils and she doubted the child was mentally abnormal and dull. I ran to the best pediatrics in the city , cried in front of them and each of them told she will take time… we have to wait for one more year to understand whether she is really abnormal or not. A mother’s worst night mare probably.

But then……

In the following Sunday evening I stared blankly at my child whom I literally pleaded with folded hands to utter the best known rhyme “twinkle twinkle little star……”.I broke down in tears when my husband joined me to teach her to talk in “human language”. Suddenly I heard my little angel talking, I couldn’t believe my ears as she spoke in clear Tamil, asking her Tamil father “appa , amma edike aluditrikange?” My husband was equally shocked when in the next minute; she directed the question to me in Bengali” maa tumi kandcho keno?” We both stared at each other like fools. She smartly picked up her pencil by her left hand, and with a farm grip, wrote her lesson. Omigosh…. She can speak and she speaks two languages!!!!!!!! And she is a left hander…………My joy knew no bounds. Well, my sweet heart is above average……………. hurrrreeeee. Well, since then she keeps on surprising us by her language skill and that’s the lesson for all other bilingual parents like us. She travels with me everywhere and gives a patient hearing to the local spoken language for minimum two hours. And then the language is hers.

Hence, worried new bilingual parents, here are some of my advices which may help you:

1. Do not listen to any comparisons between your child and any other child born to parents who speak same language.

2. Be strong mentally, your child may be adjusting himself/herself with the languages.

3. Show him pictures and tell him the name in both the languages.

4. Observe him closely as to which sound he is picking up first.

5. Encourage him to speak in the language he feels comfortable. Don’t burden him with your own mother tongue if he is not speaking it as fluently as he is speaking the other language.

6. Sing a song in your language and then translate it in the other language. It encourages him to understand both the languages.

7. Ask the teacher to speak to him in the language other children are communicating. It would be easy for him to pick up the language.

8. Take him to cultural festivals of both the States. See how your house will turn into a festive house every month.

9. Mom and dad …… don’t try to dominate each other’s language. Let mom speak her language and dad speak his. Do not shy away from your own mother tongue.

10. Don’t be surprised if your child suddenly starts bombarding you with questions in both the languages. Patiently tell him that you don’t know the meaning of the particular word and see how he works as your language teacher.

Enjoy parenthood for the brilliant multilingual child.