Parked at a comfortable corner at the waiting area of the Indira Gandhi International Airport in New Delhi, I was awaiting my flight to Dhaka along with other passengers headed to different destinations. As far as my vision went, I could see a myriad of colours, faces, heads, people, luggage, and hear a multitude of announcements, voices, squabbles, tongues and noise. It seemed like I was in some cosmopolitan country, where being an Indian felt strange. There were many Indians, correction, NRIs around who only resembled that they once belonged to my beloved India. Of these, the older generations might have even spoken in a familiar tongue and accent, but the current crop looked, behaved and spoke completely foreign. It made me wonder whether they would be Indian at heart, or even belong here, if ever their families decide to relocate to their incredible Motherland.
It was as if I was getting a ring-side view of the whole world sitting here. The little play pen near Gate No.4 was a playground for several Indian, Pakistani, British and Thai kids. The area had turned into a mini Olympic enclosure, with all the participants playing together and thoroughly enjoying themselves. If only we could take this example and peace could be established across the world.
Amidst the din, my ears caught the boarding announcement of my flight. I moved towards the gate with mixed feelings. Happy to be setting off to a new and unexplored destination, but sad to leave this global terminal bustling with activity.
Although this assignment came as a surprise, but it seemed destined. I had renewed my passport a month ago and my boss wanted me to go to Dhaka. I was excited at the prospect, but there was truly an apprehension since this was my maiden overseas official venture and I was going to be my soul guardian there.
Since it was only work for those two days, I couldn’t fulfil my desire to take a city tour. From whatever I captured, Dhaka is like any other modern city with its shortcomings. The main hub has broad roads, hotels, markets and restaurants. However, the factories are located in a separate zone located at the city outskirts and the roads here are not very good. Shabby Maruti 800 cars are used as taxis which tarnish the modernity. Further, the auto-rickshaw drivers are caged to save themselves from being knifed by local rouges. It’s also rumoured that most industries are run by an unethical lot.
Having said all this, it was interesting to note that the people and language of the capital city of Bangladesh (erstwhile East Bengal) brought certain warmth in me. It was a learning experience and I’m surely looking forward to revisit so that I can familiarise myself more with our neighbour.
Ever since I’ve been living in New Delhi all by myself, this feeling of people’s interference has intrigued me more often than not. Sometimes it’s made me wonder if living single brings along a baggage. But over the years I noticed interestingly, that Indians in general are curiously inquisitive about anything which is not their business.
Initially the neighbours/semi-strangers/ office colleagues enquire about your age and then your marital status and the reason for being single. Not satisfied, they want to know the reason for your living single and why parents do not stay together. The amount of rent and if there’s some partner staying together is also enquired about. Bucketful of advise such as it’s risky for a single female living alone in the city, and that one must stay with some friend/family, and that one must buy a flat etc. is given for free. This achieved, the questions sometimes turn to the place of work and the amount of salary. Further, people will want to know how is spare time utilized (as if singletons have a separate definition for spare time), marriage plans, modes of fighting loneliness (it’s a given that living single brings loneliness). People are also inquisitive about mode of transport everyday and what is the make of car, in case you own one (it’s quite a hot topic of discussion in case you happen to own a sedan). Almost everyone would express a desire to take a look at your house and it seems like a crime in case it is tastefully (read expensively) done. Dropping tongues and popping eyeballs are the widely evident expressions.
Having said that, the inquisitiveness does not end there. In case one is married and has not had a baby in one year, questions about such plans float all over the place. Whether you’re married or not, females traveling alone are always subject to very personal and irrelevant questions by co-passengers who are complete strangers. Sometimes, the looks are worse than the questions. In a totally different scenario, if a new outfit, footwear or mobile phone is noticed, one is bound to get raised eyebrows and asked the price and the requirement of such a purchase. If you’re planning a holiday, the neighbours show greater interest. It’s important for everyone to know what food you eat/cook and whether you have a maid or not. Even when you stand in a queue and hurriedly fill a form, people either stare at the form or at you. It’s most irritating when people randomly stare at you as if you belong to Mars. Believe me, the list is endless!
My question is why? What makes Indians this inquisitive? Why cannot everyone mind their own business? I mean it’s nice to be concerned about your neighbour/ colleague, but most people seem to cross all boundaries of being civil. When will they learn the importance of personal space? When will they realize that this habit of being nosy is irritating to the sufferer? God only knows… or does anyone want to take a wild guess???
Across the globe there are found large wastelands of plastic bottles. This is mostly evident at what used to be scenic locations once upon a time, and have been converted into popular picnic spots. People do not pay heed to the environmental damage and have a tendency to dump plastic plates and bottles among other refuse in these places, thereby further converting them into wastelands. Moreover, we also see empty plastic bottles being strewn across the city roads.
All this shows mankind’s negligence towards protecting our planet.
Firstly, it is important to understand the need for recycling plastic bottles at homes. One can regularly wash the empty water/ soft drink bottles and reuse to carry water/ juice etc., if needed. This will create a sense of saving instead of wasting amongst all.
Then again, it is common knowledge that tap water is drinkable in most parts of the world. Hence, is it necessary to buy expensive water bottles whenever one travels? The tap water can be filled in recycled plastic bottles. This will reduce the wastage and help in bringing ecological balance.
However, the soft drink and water giants continue to produce bio-bottles in their attempt to cut carbon emissions and be environment friendly. They cannot comprehend that this would lead to unnecessarily expensive purchases and thereby insurmountable amounts of wastage, because human beings are habitually wasteful.
Does this mean that since the bottles are 100% recyclable, we are allowed to continue this practice? Or should we rectify our old habits before it’s too late?
During my frequent train journeys I keep meeting a variety of people who make me feel this is a world blessed with a plethora of incredible individuals.
On one such journey I met her. She must have been all of seven years old and was traveling with her parents and younger sister. Clutching her doll bag she seemed shy and quiet, unlike her sister. Although I noticed her non-child-like nature initially, I didn’t quite bother since I was concentrating on my book.
After we all settled in and the train had taken some pace, I noticed the younger girl was jumping all over, playing, and asking constant questions with her bright eyes. The other one’s participation, was verbally active, although not physically. Both sisters shared an amazing rapport and coordination and the younger one was always ready to answer queries within her means. Their interesting chatter attracted my attention and I couldn’t stop noticing that the elder girl wasn’t looking up at all. She wasn’t troubling her parents but asking intelligent questions and engaging them instead. I could gather that although she was blind, she was really sharp and gifted in another manner.
I finally had a chance of talking to her after a long time. Both sisters were sitting beside me and chatting amongst themselves. I realized that she was really blind. I was reading the collected works of Ruskin Bond. She asked me what I was doing and felt the book with her fingers. She felt my face and my hands too and her fingers seemed to know me well. It was as if she could see with her finger tips. She asked me my name and asked the meaning. She wanted to know where I stay, where was I headed to and what do I do. She told me her story too in the most interesting manner. Then she requested me to read a short story to her. She listened intently and enquired after that. I was amazed at her knowledge, her intellect, and her different views and opinions about a particular thing.
The family got off the train at their destination. That little girl had left a massive impression on my heart. As I lay on my train berth, thoughts about her filled my mind. Her awareness, her calm nature and her constant curiosity made me marvel at the fact that when one of our senses does not work, God always compensates somewhere else. This girl’s attitude towards life left me wondering whether she was truly blind.
Every time I visit this small quaint town I feel like I’m reliving my childhood. It’s as if time forgot to touch Allahabad when it passed by. Everything from the buildings, the neighbourhood, the old playground, the local people, the old school building, the shopkeeper, the rickshaw puller, and even the old guard seem unchanged.
Although all these almost unvarying circumstances seem
strange because it’s been decades since I left Allahabad, but what makes me most happy and rejuvenated is that my feelings, emotions and sentiments towards the place and the people remain unchanged. My degree of emotional connection with the city makes me want to return again and again. It adds to my zest of life, and removes the boring and challenging routine which I face everyday in the big city where I live and work. The place always reminds of me of my Mother, the naughty days of school, the happy festivals, the scolding of parents, the fighting and laughing with pals etc. All these memories refresh me and give me strength to live life once again. They never fail to bring a smile to my face and brighten my day.
And now, sitting alone in my room, reminiscing about my old home, I recall some instances which make me feel passionate and urge me to return to the therapeutic little town.
Allahabad is the place where I spent the initial nine years of my life with my parents. Although I was born in Kolkata, I grew up in Allahabad. Today, at 35, I live alone in New Delhi and work here.
I spent a happy and colourful childhood with parents and friends in Allahabad. The house I grew up in is located in a remote part of the city and is big with a garden full of fruit and flower trees and plants. My father’s passion for flora and fauna always kept the greenery around the house. I was very content with climbing trees, playing all boyish games, running about, being mischievous and hurting myself. Parental scolding and beating was part of the game and was never thought of as an ordeal.
Usually, my mother had to deal with my troublesome nature since my father used to be away for work most of the time. She was my constant companion teaching me every important thing of life. My father’s return meant several complaints and some angry and disciplinary moments, but that was always short-lived. Their love was the integral part of my life.
I studied in St. Mary’s Convent and was good in studies. I agree I was careless and my teachers always complained that I was the most talkative girl in school. But when my report card showed my good results every year, I eagerly looked forward to my prize of the biggest bar of chocolate. Perhaps that’s why chocolates are still my favourite. Birthdays were always special with an early morning gift and usually a dinner treat. I remember my parents threw a grand party once inviting all and sundry. The food was yummy and the gifts were to die for. I must’ve been seven years old then.
I remember the first time I rode on my father’s Lambretta scooter sitting behind him with my arms wrapped around his hip. My mother feared I would fall off, since my usual place was to stand in front holding the handle. But my father took the gamble and taught me to be brave. Although all the rides are not as vivid, but I do remember some when he dropped me to school, or we went to see the Ganga river, or some monuments etc. I always looked forward to the times when the three of us went to visit his friends. I recall, we had met with an accident once and my father hurt his finger badly. Mother and I were not much hurt. In an after thought, perhaps, I might have distracted him somehow, I can’t quite remember that.
We moved to another city called Indore in 1984 when I had completed Class III, since my father changed jobs. I could sense both my parents were very upset, especially my mother. I suppose I had mixed feelings. Sad to go away from this beautiful place and friends, yet excited to see a new place, make new friends, study in a new school, and meet new people.
It’s been many years since then. We finally moved to Kolkata at the end of that year and my mother passed away the year after that, to cancer. My father has moved back to Allahabad ever since and still lives there.
I visit him as frequently as I can.
We often reminisce the wonderful moments that have passed and feel both happy and sad about them. So although physically time has stopped in Allahabad, the poignant bond beckons me to visit time and again.
I’ve been living in this modest two-roomed flat on top of a building for the past five years now. When I moved in here I literally felt on top of the world. My friends and family loved my den and it has been a venue for many a small get-togethers in the past.
The view from the terrace is of a green field and lots of trees on one side and of some more buildings on the other. The sun rises from the far end of the field and sets behind the buildings. I marveled at the thought that I get to feel the morning freshness, see the clear blue sky, the starry night, hear the happy chirping of the birds and enjoy the seasons despite being in the middle of a big, polluted city where all this cannot be thought of.
My house is close to the airport but never was I disturbed by the planes. As the years passed a new airport runway was constructed and the aircrafts now fly right over my head in their new route, one every 1.5 minutes. My peace and tranquility have been jeopardized by the noise to such an extent that watching TV, talking on the phone and talking to someone has become quite impossible now. Sometimes I feel I’m facing a 9/11 disaster right in my living room. This has made me hate the sight of aircrafts.
When I gradually came to terms with this constant noisy atmosphere, I noticed, to my horror, one Sunday afternoon that, the field and the trees overlooking my terrace did not exist any more. This spoilt not only a playground for the local kids, a walking track for the health conscious, but my view as well. I always thought the greenery was to stay. Apparently, the authorities are constructing the road there connecting to the other end of the town. That’s all good, but I’m left with lots of dust and mud and ugly brown construction site with machines to look at.
Although I had plans to move out of the best place in the world which has been my home till date, I've stayed put. I decided to live with the surrounding pains. Today, the green playground (although a smaller one) has been relayed and the road beyond it has been extended. Hence, I’m glad modern construction did not kill my environment. The sun continues to treat me with golden and pink sunrise and sunsets everyday and I'm so glad I changed my mind about leaving this paradise.
It’s not often that we experience the loss of so many special people at the same time in our lives, but when I lost my sis-in-law a couple of days ago, I felt I had lost all. She came into my life when I was all of eight years and I never imagined even in my scariest nightmares that I will lose her one day. Although I’m sure my brother and nephew have lost an integral part of their existence, her loss has created a vacuum in my life as well.
Teaching me right from wrong, scolding me, educating me, standing up for me, supporting me, believing in me, and above all loving me through the years, she has always been outspoken yet wise in every advice. Her behaviour and respect towards one and all and her ever-smiling face showed her mettle in whatever she did. Simple living and high thinking was her virtue.
She was a brave soldier fighting a deadly disease in a cool and composed manner without any complaint. This taught all of us to be an optimist and the correct attitude in handling a situation. I regret being away from her the past few years and I wish we could’ve spent more time together. Although she suffered a great deal and died young, I’m glad that the Almighty relieved her of the pain soon.
I know you will live in my heart forever, but I will always miss you my dear sister, dear friend and dear mother.
The recent devastating earthquake and tsunami in Japan and the one in China some time ago adds to the list of several such major natural calamities in 2010 and 2011. We’ve already witnessed tragedies such as in Haiti (Earthquake Jan 2010), in Chile (Earthquake and Tsunami in Feb 2010) in China (Earthquake Apr 2010), in Eastern India (cyclone/ tornado in Apr 2010) and in Iceland (eruption of volcano Ejyafyallakjokull in Apr 2010)and Japan (earthquake and tsunami in Apr 2011). All these have brought forth disastrous misery to hundreds of thousands of people of those regions and it seems the worst is not yet over.
In addition, we cannot ignore the extreme weather conditions the world over. The summer of 2009 saw heat waves across India and Europe which caught people unawares and took many lives. Many parts of central and northern India also faced drought conditions. 2010 had extreme monsoons too. And 2011 also had very hot summers and quite a lot of rains as well. The world was not spared in the winter of 2009-10 as well. India, Europe and the USA were subject to excessive cold waves.
Why is all this happening to us? Are these the after effects of global warming? Or is the Mayan prediction of the world ending in Dec 2012 coming true?
An insurance TV commercial I saw some time ago is basically about discovering the potential of your child and letting him realize it. It says: “whatever your all-rounder’s dreams, we make it possible”.
The commercial shows a child excited about winning a competition in school announces it to his parents. The parents, instead of exhibiting joy and encouraging him, ask what he won the prize for, bicker about whose family’s smarter than the other and which spouse’s brain has the child inherited. This leaves the boy thoroughly confused and he meekly informs that he’s stood first in painting. The parents, quite shaken, applaud him, but continue to bicker and blame each other’s families for such artistic inheritance.
It’s strange and disheartening to note that normal human nature is such. First of all, they want their children to win every competition/ battle of life. Secondly, if it’s painting instead of academics, that’s almost shameful. Why can’t parents let their kids grow and bloom naturally, and encourage and support them whole-heartedly?
This commercial appealed to me a great deal. The expression on the child’s face spoke volumes. Please dear parents, listen to the unspoken words, comprehend the latent talents and let your children blossom and become masters of their vocation.
