Life is like that – Page 6

LOVEAPALOOZA – ARJUN AND SAMIRA’S LIFETIME MUSIC FEST

Loveapalooza

On Thursday, the 8th of May 14, our first-born Arjun S Ravi weds Samira Kanwar, the first-born of Asha and Atul Kanwar. This photo-essay traces Arjun and Samira’s life leading up to the wedding. Here is their Wedding Invite:

Let me first explain the name ‘Loveapalooza‘ to you. It has been derived from ‘Lollapalooza’, that is a very well attended “annual music festival featuring popular alternative rock, heavy metal, punk rock and hip hop bands, dance and comedy performances, and craft booths.”

You can read more about it on http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lollapalooza.

You see, Arjun and Sam (Samira) both are into music in a huge way. They are both directors in the music company called OML (Only Much Louder); Sam looks after the television content through a company under OML banner called Babble Fish Productions. Arjun looks after the digital content on the portals NH7 and Indiecision.

Let me now begin their story:

Early Childhood

Arjun, our elder son, was born on 14th of May in 1984. All children are god sent. However, Arjun was special since he was born two weeks after my father’s tragic death and all of us, especially my mom (his dadi (paternal grandmother)) felt that he was sent to wipe away our tears. And he did and still does. He was a joy to hold and to watch growing up:

My mom (his dadi) holding Arjun as a gift from God:

Lyn, always so beautiful, in ecstasy to hold “such a wonderful bundle of joy”:

During his early childhood, we shuttled between Mumbai and Kandaghat in Shimla Hills and then for the next three years until we went for my Staff Course in Wellington (Nilgiris) in May 1990, we were in New Delhi. This included the six months period between January and June 1988 when I was on deputation to Seville in Spain and the family (by this time our younger son Arun was born on the 22nd of Dec 1986 in Mumbai when I and my ship INS Ganga were away to Andaman & Nicobar islands with Prime Minister Rajiv Gandhi and his wife Sonia Gandhi) shifted with my mother in Kandaghat.

There was nothing that he did that was not refreshingly appealing to people all around him. He had a natural propensity to love all animals and befriended cats and dogs at a very early stage. A few years back, he found that a bitch had littered under the stairs leading to his office of the JAM magazine. He found that one of the pups was not just small and weak but unable to cope up. He brought the pup home and throughout the night tended to it with the advice being received on phone by an NGO looking after the welfare of the stray dogs. He didn’t sleep at all. In the morning, he was in tears when the pup died.

ScannedImage-15 — Most of his toys were shaped like pets

He’d have pets even in his cot cum play-pen

Looking good and cute even in a trash box

He was at home with everything; as the picture above shows, even in a trash-box. The moment he learnt to crawl, he was everywhere, helping my mom and all of us with our work:

Frequent travels from Bombay to Kandaghat didn’t keep him away from looking cute and relaxed:

And then, he learnt to stand on his two feet and walk around. Here is a picture of the first step he ever did! Lyn and I have, at least one picture of all his firsts except one; the first word he uttered was ‘Goo”, all by himself. We called over friends to share with them the exciting news that Arjun spoke. Over drinks, they asked us to share with them the word and when we told them, they stared at us in amazement. It was amazing indeed.

Now that he learnt to walk, it was difficult to keep him in his play-pen:

Or, for that matter, in his pram:

Samira

She is the first-born of Asha and Atul Kanwar; born on the American Independence Day: the 4th of July. It was certainly the most beautiful thing that ever happened to Asha and Atul. Holding the gift of their love close to them was like their most ardent dream come true. Here is Asha, as in Donald Peer’s song: “Looking proud as a queen as she carried” Samira:

The sheer joy of holding her whilst the fawning husband looked on is something that is unforgettable for Asha. As far as Samira is concerned, she knows that the happiness, warmth and confidence of being in her parents’ arms can never be replaced by any other experience. Just about two years back she wrote on Facebook on a picture of Arjun: ‘My boy-friend bestest‘. However, a bird told us that until she met Arjun, she didn’t have any boy-friends and her parents and later her sister were her complete world.

Samira’s total countenance is that of being at perfect ease and trust with the rest of the world. She has a natural sense of humour. Here is one of her typical comments made with her characteristic tinkle: “My parents decided to move abroad to the Gulf to save a lakh. They decided that once they did that, they’d move back to India – it’s now been 33 years and they’re still trying to save that one Lakh”.

Samira or Sam as she is known, moved to Dubai (where Atul got his first job as a financier in a construction company. Says Sam, “Numbers are his friend unlike they are to me or my sister”) with her parents from Bombay when she was three. By that time, Asha and Atul’s love had produced another miracle that they named Anjali. Here is Asha having her hands full with doubled joys:

Sam recalls, “My sister was the cutest baby in the world.” Lyn and I, however, with the pride born out of our immense good fortune in about to have a very pretty and affectionate daughter, (exactly how Asha and Atul would gain a son in Arjun), feel that no one can be more cute than Sam. We feel that she is still a baby and she is likely to keep her baby looks for at least a few more decades! See if you can make one baby from the other in the following picture:

Growing Up

Arjun

Arjun became such an important part of our lives that we just couldn’t leave him at any time (I was commissioned in the Indian Navy in Jul 1975 and I was a Lieutenant Commander when he was born). A few pictures of his being with us:

Lyn spent hours looking at him and admiring him:

I took him everywhere with me, my Yezdi KEE 438 was the first vehicle he rode:

My mother even took him to the Gurudwara in our house for her prayers and reading of the Guru Granth Sahib:

Here is Arjun on his First Birthday; the cake had to be made in the shape of a ship since I was posted on one at that time:

And then, in Dec 1986, Arun was born. Both Arjun and Arun formed a very loving team and got along famously.

Their love and comfort level with each other was such that once after a quarrel in the daytime, when they went to sleep, in mock estrangement, Arun complained to us that he couldn’t go to sleep since Arjun was not holding his hand!

Here are some more pictures of Arjun’s childhood, having Arun as his constant companion:

During their first visit to America:

At home in Kandaghat, Arun still trying to gain confidence in the cycle-riding skills of his elder brother, Arjun.

Now this is really funny. During those days when an overseas (ISD) call used to cost a bomb, Arjun and Arun learnt how to dial the various codes and numbers and connected to my brother JP Singh in the USA:

Holding hands and going to sleep never left them, even when they were on their first overseas trip, to USA:

Picnics were part of our life and during these outings, Arjun and Arun found ways and means to amuse themselves:

During their visit to the Disney Land in California:

Both with my brother, studying in Campion School in Mumbai:

At a very very young age, Arjun became very fond of music. Here is the first picture of his enjoying music; there was no looking back after that:

After Arun was born, Arjun also gave signs of doing things by himself rather than asking me or even Lyn how to (Please also read: ‘Diminishing Dad’):

If he is seen above trying to put a knot on a neck-tie, here he is trying to polish shoes:

All in all, I feel Arjun had a very healthy, happy and interesting childhood. Did that prepare him for life and its challenges? I would think so. If there is one word in which I can describe him, then the word is ‘gentleman’. When he was studying in the Timpany School in Vizag, as a class monitor, he took his job so seriously that when the school bus from Naval Base didn’t report, he put all the kids in a few auto-rickshaws, and then left them one by one in their houses; especially the girls. Here is a picture of Arjun in the Holy Innocents School in Wellington (Nilgiris) whereat I was undergoing Staff Course at DSSC. He was all of six years old:

We moved to Kochi when he was in the 12th standard. Normally, kids should do their schooling in classes 11th and 12th from the same school for the Board (CBSE or ICSE) exams. But, it was not to be in Arjun’s case because of the Navy’s system of postings. Ostensibly he used to listen to music and play cricket; however, when the board results were announced (on the net), Lyn and I were pleasantly surprised to see him pass out with nearly 93 per cent marks (he actually stood first in all the Naval Public Schools (now re-christened as Naval Children’s Schools) in his (commerce) stream.

By this time, in the year 1998, there was another addition to our family; our darling dog Roger who was born on the 3rd of July that year. Roger was with me in a remote locality called INS Kattabomman (near Tirunelvelli in Tamilnadu) and the rest of the family missed seeing him as a puppy. On their visit to Kattbomman, here is how Roger made a place for himself in the family:

Curiously, whilst doing stunningly well in studies (Roger used to give Arjun company during his late night studies), he took part in debates and declamations and plays. One of these, during that period, was directed by me: a play titled Dear Charles. He used to be present during the rehearsals of the play in the US Club. Whenever anyone forgot their dialogues, Arjun used to help them without even looking at the script. Finally, we all felt that he could be given a role. He did superbly as Bruno, Denise’s son and won a huge applause for his performance. Then, he acted as Lieutenant Sanjay, the hero, in my adaptation of Molière’s Baker’s Muddle. I called it ‘Suddenly in the Park’. This was the first play presented in Navy’s Mulla auditorium in NOFRA, Colaba. Lastly, he acted in another play that I directed in the same auditorium: The Black Comedy; the play was presented for the farewell visit of the Chief of the Naval Staff Admiral Arun Prakash to Mumbai. Here is Arjun as the rich baron Georg Bamberger:

Arjun joined St Xavier’s in Mumbai for his graduation in the year 2001 and thereafter worked for a magazine called JAM (Just another Magazine) whilst preparing for his CAT exam. He went to MICA (Mudra Institute of Communications, Ahmedabad) for his MBA in 2005 and graduated from there in 2007. He worked for Mudra for sometime before getting back as an Editor for JAM. By this time it was clear to him that his calling was music. He started a popular musical portal called Indiecision. He joined his present company OML (Only Much Louder) and started another music portal named NH7 (named after India’s longest highway) and merged Indiecision into it. The picture below shows Arjun, Anshul and Sachin giving a performance of their band ‘The Unlike No One’s’ at MICA:

At this juncture, the Ravi family looked like this and we waited for our would-be daughter to enter our lives:

Samira

Sam moved to Dubai with her parents when she was three. After that, they moved to Muscat and her parents are still there though her mother divides time between Muscat and Mumbai (Bandra, where they have a house). Sam recalls that after Anjali was born, one day she fed her potato chips even though Anjali had no teeth. The reason? Anjali looked at Sam eating chips and Sam took pity on her! The result? Well, potato chips are now a favourite with Anjali. That she nearly choked on the chips is not remembered by both Anjali and Sam.

Much like Arjun and Arun, Sam and Anjali made a great and almost inseparable pair:

Here is another adorable picture of the two (Please notice that holding hands is common between Anjali & Sam, and Arun & Arjun:

Sam did her schooling from the Indian School, Muscat until she became sweet sixteen. After this, she had to return to Mumbai since she wasn’t interested in either Commerce or Science streams and wanted to pursue Arts. She sat through the boring commerce classes in Indian School at Muscat and decided that she wasn’t cut out for Commerce.

Recalls Sam fondly, “We had a wonderful school life, growing up in Muscat. My mom is a closet event manager. She has amazing organizational skills and she’d organize games and we even had a club for kids where we’d meet up and learn, cook, play sports.” Amazing indeed.

As a girl happy with others and also happy by herself:

Love for dogs is something that she shares with Arjun. In Muscat, she enjoyed the company of not one but three dogs – Timmy, Scamp and Sheeba. Even now they have dogs in their house in Muscat: Oscar and Misha.

She then moved to Bombay and studied in Sophia College for 5 years (FYJC – TYBA). She was in the hostel for the first 2.5 years and made a lot of close friends. This is what she feels about her life in Bombay: “I became a lot bolder in college. I started to speak out and gain confidence. Bombay helped me come out of my shell a lot.”

She ended up being Student Body President in her final year of college and she majored in English Literature.

She did a post-graduate diploma course in Sophia Polytechnic in Mass Communications after which she began working in advertising film production.

After a few years in advertising, she realized she wasn’t happy so she moved to television. She visited Europe during this period: Italy, Germany and Turkey and talked with her camera. Here she is at the Trevi Fountain in Rome tossing the coin to ensure she visits again:

And then, after some years, she joined OML and she has been a part of it since 2006. In her own words, “I’ve been very happy working with like-minded people where we share a common goal of supporting the music and alternative culture scene by doing things we’re good at. (in my case making films!)”

Meanwhile last year, her sister Anjali got married to Avinash – yes younger sister got married before her – but only by a year.

Their dog Biscuit is the queen in their lives:

All in all Samira (Sam) is a love-child who had a very happy, loving, and interesting childhood and growing up. Here is what the Kanwar family looked at this juncture, awaiting the arrival of another son in their family after Sam’s sister Anjali married Avinash:

Cupid Strikes

When love strikes, all you can do is bow your head and accept the best gift that God can give you. As it creeps over you and totally engulfs you, a realisation comes over you to tell you that you were wasting your time not being the object of your love. Sam and Arjun went over this in their own unique way whilst going through their separate lives with moments of togetherness thrown in here and there.

Once Arjun decided to quit Mudra and JAM, he was determined to devote his life to covering music scene in various publications including on his own portal Indiecision that was becoming increasingly more popular.

Even though the music scene in Mumbai was small, he hadn’t come across Sam. She was the head of a production house that made music videos for bands.

Arjun had seen her at gigs and other music related events but the first time he and Samira properly met and had a conversation was at the first edition of Baajaa Gaajaa in Pune, a festival hosted by Shubha Mudgal in February 2009. She had a stall there where she was telling people about her production house and the work they were doing.

At around the same time, Arjun came in touch with Misha and Ekadish, and Sam was a common friend of theirs. So they’d meet up at parties at Misha’s house in Bandra, and at gigs as well.

Says Arjun, “That’s when we really started to get to know each other better. I remember at Sam’s birthday that year, she had a party at her house. She had quite a bit to drink and she becomes really very adorable when she’s a bit tipsy. She wouldn’t let me leave her house and even hid my cellphone so I wouldn’t leave.”

He adds: “We went on many small dates – to movies, restaurants, etc and given how similar we both are as people, it was startling, in retrospect, that we didn’t get together sooner.”

“For the next few months, a lot of ‘will they’, ‘wont they’ happened as we got to know more and more about each other. It was quite obvious to everyone around us that we would probably end up together, but we were quite oblivious of it at the time. We both have very, very similar interests, almost scarily so, and even there’s a five-year age difference between us, we got along as if we’d known each other for years.”

“Then finally after many ups and downs we finally decided that we would be together. This was in May 2010. It was in December last year when we decided that we should get married.”

Sam visited our house in Ahilya building in Navy area in Colaba for the first time in 2009. After I retired in end Feb 2010 and we moved to our house in Kharghar, Navi Mumbai, Sam started visiting us with Arjun more regularly. That we were quite drawn to her can be made out from:

And we became a family together:

So much so that last year onwards we have a Whatsapp group appropriately named: Together As A Happy Family. Lyn and I looked forward to their visits, Bacardi Weekenders in Pune, and going out together:

With all this, what is in store for the future? Only this that the days of making music separately as in the following pictures are now over:

Now onwards, it has got to be: Loveapalooza, Arjun and Sam’s Lifetime Music Fest:

Congratulations Sam and Arjun, we await Loveapalooza and its editions year after year after year:

May your love guide you all the way:

DOESN’T PAY TO BE A GOODIE-GOODIE GUY

When I undertook to allow the armed forces to train me to become a good staff-officer (Read Learning ‘The Ropes’ At Defence Services Staff College At Wellington, Nilgiris – Part I’ and ‘Part II’), I also took it upon myself to let go of all that used to keep me in high spirits. It was a tough decision but I was going to prove a point to me; which was that even though I was a proud member of fauj, Sikh religion and hailing from Punjab, I could do without the elixir of life. Suddenly from an irresponsible vagabond I stepped into the sober though somewhat sombre world of the nek aadmi.

Accolades started flowing in a-plenty. In addition, I also became the butt of many jokes. I sought refuge in the friendship of SK Sharma, an Air Electric officer and a Brahmin with a keen sense of humour.

Do you remember the Catch 22 logic of Yossarian’s friend Orr who had a bucktoothed smile due to crab apples in his cheeks? He used to carry rubber balls in his hands. So when anyone teased him about having crab apples in his cheeks, he used to tell them that he had rubber balls and they were not in his cheeks but in his hands! Well I tried the same logic for my perennial sobriety, through my friendship with SK Sharma. Whenever, anyone told me that I was wonky, I used to point towards SK Sharma and say that whereas I had recently become a teetotaller SKS had been so from the time of his being at his mother’s knee onwards. In this ingenious manner my friendship with SKS helped me ward off many barbs targeted at me.

Our friendship had just begun to bloom when the blow stuck us. Sharma and I used to go by our four-wheelers (cars) anywhere and everywhere and had sold off our two wheelers (scooters and mobikes). Since we didn’t indulge, we had the spare money for the fuel and we had just begun to enjoy ourselves in our combined world of puritanism. The blow that stuck us was that the Government of India, without consulting SK and I, suddenly raised the petrol prices from Rupees 10.50 a litre (in Tamilnadu) to Rupees 13.25 – an almost 30 per cent increase.

The next evening, since it was his turn, I waited for SK to pick me up from my house in Castle Quarters to go to WGC (Wellington Gymkhana Club) to play billiards. He arrived at the appointed hour but instead of chuckles of laughter and sunniness that used to herald his arrival, I noticed that he was competing with an Egyptian mummy for years of lifelessness. I got into the front left seat of his car and we arrived at the club. Nothing was said between us since the news had killed our enthusiasm almost totally. He played the first shot and I noticed that he offered me an easy in-off followed by red potting and promise of many other geometric possibilities.

I applied sufficient chalk to the tip of my cue and took my stance for what I hoped would be a long break. And it is precisely at this time that SK chose to break the agonising silence of that evening.

“Have you heard the bad news Sir?” he asked.
“Yes” I replied icily so as to cap all further conversation until I had completed my break of at least 30 points.
“I am afraid” he continued with determination, “It is going to affect us the most.”

I had no choice but to break my stance as the Tsunami was almost at my door-step. I put the handling end of the cue down and my look asked him to explain.

“Well Sir” he explained, “Both of us don’t smoke, drink or have any such vices. In order to offset the increased cost of petrol, all that the drinkers, for example, have to do is to cut down an equivalent amount of their drinking and they land up with the same expenditure as they used to incur earlier. You and I have no such cushion.”

I was immediately reminded of a dialogue from a Smita Patil movie that went like this: “Nangi kyaa dhoye kyaa nichode?” (A poor naked woman doesn’t have enough to wash and squeeze out)

We quickly finished the game that SK once again won easily. He dropped me back home and I changed and drove my own car back to WGC. Ordering a series of drinks at the bar had become for me a matter of life and death. A Brahmin with his simple wit had put an end to my short-lived abstinence; I was already preparing to offset the next fuel price hike.

The bar where I drowned my sorrows caused by fuel price hike (Courtesy: wellingtongymkhanagolfclub.golfgaga.com) — The bar where I drowned my sorrows caused by fuel price hike
(Courtesy: wellingtongymkhanagolfclub.golfgaga.com)

By the time I left DSSC I had adequately prepared to offset fuel price hikes for the next decade or so!

ARMED FORCES PERSONNEL WERE RICH

The title doesn’t seem to go well with the constant struggle that the armed forces seem to be having for obtaining adequate remuneration for the serving and retired personnel. Curiously, this intense – and at times, bitter – struggle is not with the government but with another arm under the government (just like the armed forces) called bureaucracy. Bureaucracy or babugiri has relentlessly endeavoured to keep the armed forces on a tight leash and is often seen fighting tooth and nail anything given to the faujis as just job satisfaction.

This article, however, is not about the babus’ penchant for “saving public money” by suggesting re-usable condoms. You can’t get the better of them by writing articles or returning your medals at rallies at Jantar Mantar in New Delhi. They know every Jantar and Mantar for keeping the armed forces essaying to get out from the maze they have put them in.

Admiral SM Nanda, the CNS with Mrs Indira Gandhi, the PM (direct access and not through the babus!)

This article, on the other hand, is about how rich the armed forces personnel were. That they were and are rich in commitment, valour, values and patriotism is already an established fact with very few exceptions. This article is about their richness in money terms. I have taken me and family as test case since no officer in the armed forces would be as poor as I was when I served the armed forces of this great country.

Why did I choose to be poor? I had my anakh (Punjabi word meaning Pride or Honour) as a young man born in a Punjabi family wherein they would do anything to keep their anakh. I had seen my father exhibiting it in large measure when he married my mom. He won’t expect and accept a single paisa from anyone that included his parents and her parents. A self-made man, he boasted with loud guffaws that he was a king.

So, unconsciously, I followed his example, but went several steps ahead of him. As the train took me to the Naval Academy in Jun 1973, I decided that there won’t be a single occasion whence I would take anything in money or in kind from my parents. I was on my own and I became fiercely independent.

The Navy looked after all my needs. The highest pay that I got in the Navy was as a Midshipman, Acting Subaltern Lieutenant and then Lieutenant; that is all before the age of thirty. I could eat and drink merrily and have sufficient left over to see movies and buy me shirts from Charagh Din and other clothes from shops in Colaba; the kind I could never afford again during my remaining career in the Navy. What is more, we could afford to dine, once in a while, at restaurants like Delhi Durbar, Khyber, and in restaurants of Taj and Oberoi hotels. And then we had our clubs and messes that gave us a life-style that many were envious of.

We could also go abroad once in a while on ship visits and even whilst staying within the Custom regulations we could buy the latest in two-in-one music systems and cameras. Imported Canteen goods from ship-chandlers too gave us some social edge; imagine a girl being presented with Tosca perfume or Toblerone or Hershey’s chocolates during those days when not many in the civil-street could afford them.

Also, by better and more efficient use of the resources given to them, the armed forces’ messes looked plush, glamorous and could match the fare and atmosphere of five star hotels. The decorum and traditions in these messes would actually put them even beyond these hotels. On the occasions of Mess Nights, one felt like a king with the wives matching the deportment of royal families. I don’t remember many occasions when there was any lengthy and persistent talk about how poorly we were paid.

The average countrymen vied with one another to get a glimpse of the impeccably turned out men and women in uniform on the Republic Day at Rajpath. Those who had the privilege of having attended a naval function, for example, told of their experiences proudly in public fora and media.

A view of the RD Parade of 1951. Countrymen vying with one another to have a glimpse of the smartly turned out men in uniform (Pic courtesy: www.pinterest.com)

On special occasions like Navy Ball, the elite of the city vied with one another to be seen in such functions; Navy was a way of life that was looked up to. An old time video of a Navy Ball shows the best film-stars and personalities in Hindi film industry attending the Navy Ball: Mohammad Rafi, Raj Kapoor, Raj Kumar, Rajendra Kumar, Vyjayanthimala, Nutan etc.

The first "Navy Day" on December 04 was celebrated in 1972. On this Day when the Navy dedicated itself anew to the service of the nation, the Army Postal Service Corps (56 APO) brought out a Special Cover to commemorate the Navy Day on 4 December 1972. — The first “Navy Day” on December 04 was celebrated in 1972.
On this Day when the Navy dedicated itself anew to the service of the nation, the Army Postal Service Corps (56 APO) brought out a Special Cover to commemorate the Navy Day on 4 December 1972.

The government had intended it to be so; so as to make the difficult, challenging and life-sacrificing profession of armed forces attractive for the youth of the country. It was an acknowledgement of the tough and risky lives that they led. The government voiced this in various fora and documents. No one had reckoned that the wily babu would not envy this life-style in the manner of the common countrymen; but, would like to bring it down to the level wherein armed forces personnel would have to beg and agitate for their rights and privileges.

PM Indira Gandhi with the crew of INS Vikrant, the ship that helped her win the 1971 War (Pic courtesy: Indian Express)

Gradually, armed forces men fell down to tenth or beyond choice of eligible women for marriage. The babu laughed smugly. Gradually, everyone wanted to become a babu; leaving the profession of arms for the desperate, third-class, and less than ordinary men and women. The babu patted himself on the back. Gradually, people seemed to forget that whilst we have the finest armed forces in the world, we also have one of world’s worst bureaucracy. The babu smiled with self-satisfaction. Gradually, the armed forces personnel returned their medals, sat on hunger-strikes, and were reduced to the dishonourable ways of the netas and the babus. The babu guffawed triumphantly and said, “Now, I have got them where I wanted them to be. They are as bad as the rest of us. I got fed up of listening to them being the saviours of the country.”

The babu won. The country lost.

CHALTA HAI – MOHAN RAM-BHAROSE

CHALTA HAI – MOHAN RAM-BHAROSE is Chalta Hai’s first attempt at movie making and is already being talked about as a potential Oscar winner. Here are some of the scenes that have already been shot (being an international movie, some of the dialogues are in English, whilst others are in Hindi; the ones which are in Punjabi have been deleted in order to avoid getting an ‘A’ Certificate for the movie):

Scene One: A warship has been wrecked and is seen going down in almost still waters (Sea State 1). The hero of the movie, a certain RR, (not to be confused with another Ram, eg, Raja Ram or with the expression “Ram Ram” (of ‘RR Satya Hai’ fame) is seen in sea-water clinging for dear life to a wooden grating along with his friend RS (Raavan Singh; he was christened as Ram Singh on birth, but, after he joined WATT, all the constructors led by one whose name has two Hindu gods strength, pronounced him as the most evil man on earth: Raavan).

RR (speaking from the memory of the most ‘intellectual’ books that he had read (written by René Goscinny and illustrated by Albert Uderzo): Shiver my timbers; what happened.

RS (as calmly as explaining A for Apple to a child): Our ship went down.

RR (Perplexed, similar to his hero Obelix): But, did we hit something?

RS: No.

RR (Seeking clarity): Did something hit us?

RS: No.

RR: (Getting that bolt from the blue): The Pakis? Jehadis? LeT? Al Qaeda? Indian Mujahideen? What then?

RS: (Furiously shaking his nut even though almost fully immersed in water) No, no, no, no….for Ram’s sake no. And don’t keep saying “What”; this Watt only got us into thick soup with all our friends. At last count it was 93 Likes, 1 Share and 46 obnoxious comments.

RR: (Losing his patience): But _____(Censored Being in Punjabi; in future: CBP) huaa kyaa?

RS: Nothing huaa Sir; the ship was as it is (Mohan) Ram bharose. Starts singing: “Yeh to hona hi thaa”.

Fadeout with gradually fading notes of the song Yeh to hona hi tha.

Scene Two: Shows an old man MR, wistfully remembering his best ship designs: paper-boats or kaagaz ki kashtiyan. This is the scene wherein the credits of the movie are flashed. The old man, in the background, is seen lowering some of his best ‘designs’ into the water. Gentle notes of Jagjit Singh’s ghazal accompany the credits:

Ye daulat bhi le lo,
Ye shauhrat bhi le lo,
Bhale chheen lo mujhase meri jawaani;
Magar mujhako lauta do
DND ka wo tenure
Wo kaagaz ki kashti
Wo baarish ka paani.

Scene Three: Shows MR sitting in his office in DND with a huge map of the world. A freshman constructor walks in.

FC: What is with this huge map of the world, Sir?

MR: I am planning the next indigenous design of a navy ship.

FC (Scratching his head, admittedly a great pastime with NCs): I don’t understand what has an indigenous design got to do with the world map?

MR: You are new to the constructor branch. We have to cull the indigenous design from as many foreign countries as we can visit.

FC: But Sir you just finished visiting dozens of countries from Iran to England to Russia; indeed, the number of countries that you have visited is much more than any ship designed by you in a lifetime would visit. Indeed, in later life, if someone were to start a Humour In Uniform group, you would have more than enough to regale them endlessly with your tales of, say, sitting in a plane in Iran full of chickens or being treated as a royal guest by a German company director. Why do you want to visit more?

MR: You will not make a good NC if you keep questioning the need to visit foreign countries extensively in search of indigenous design. In any case, the last two dozen countries that I visited were in connection with Leander – nay – Giri class of ships’ indigenous design. Now I have to go abroad to inculcate the indigenous design for modified Leander – er, Godavari class of ships. Remember, every time I go abroad we get a huge fillip for indigenous design effort.

FC: Now I get it; I too want to get into indigenous designs. I always wanted to visit Scandinavian countries.

Scene fades with FC singing: zara haule haule chalo MR ji; ham bhi peechhe hain tumhaare.

Scene Four: Commissioning ceremony of INS Ganga by PM Shri Rajiv Gandhi. Ceremony over, the commissioning CO is having a party on the quarterdeck. Both the Fleet Commander and the CO are Punjabis. Hence, some of the dialogues are CBP.

Fleet Cdr: I say Kailash, have you seen your ship’s side? It is in the pits.

KKK: I know Sir, such large scale pits were not there either in the British ships or Russian ships.

Fleet Cdr: I believe you have very large free spaces but weapon and sensor spaces are cramped.

KKK: Yes Sir. It is a ______(CBP) pity.

Fleet Cdr: And on the radar you paint louder than a carrier.

KKK: Yes Sir.

Fleet Cdr: Whose ______ (CBP) design is this?

KKK: I am not sure Sir; but, they call it Mohan Ram Bharose design.

Fleet Cdr: Strange name! Why can’t they sail on their own designed ships?

KKK: I think they are hardly ever in India to do that!

Scene fades with the notes of: Hey Rome Rome mein basane waale Ram….

Cut to last scene.

Last Scene: Opening time of a famous mobike peddling shop in Bengaluru. The owner, known by his initials ‘MR’ as most south Indians are known, is saying his prayers with dhoop and agarbatti at a sandal-wood garlanded huge picture of Rajnikant. His wife has arrived there carrying his tiffin with his breakfast.

Wife: Why do you keep praying with dhoop to Rajnikant’s picture?

MR: Because I have the same qualities as him; no one can even dream of beating me. I am fast on the draw. Indeed, I am the fastest like my idol RK.

Wife (Glancing at the morning newspaper): Have you seen the headlines today; another ship designed by you when you were in the Navy has gone down.

MR (Quick on the draw as RK): I have already analysed it as I did with others:

One, ships are manned by nincompoops; for a ship meant for 300, the AHs in NHQ put 600.

Two, my designed ships older than just a few days should be retired. My guarantee of the ships is only about a week; excluding Sunday, that is.

Three, do you think these _____s (Not CBP but still censored!) know how to operate the ships.

Wife: But, why did they sink?

MR (takes out his calculator and does extensive calculations of whose results he writes on the side-lines of the same paper carrying the news about the ship sinking): See here, my stability calculations still hold good. It should never have sunk.

Wife (Remembering something from her primary class Hindi books): Abhi to jyun kaa tyun, kunbaa dooba kyun?

MR: Search me.

The scene fades with MR having pooja thali in one hand and a brass ghanti in the other and singing the ‘hymn’: Rajnikanta fool tumhaare, mehken youn constructor ban ke…..

And his wife singing: Ram teri Ganga maili ho gayi….

The End

And then a voice over: Kahin naa jayiye meharbaan; Chalta Hai abhi aur baaki hai dost.

Chalta Hai is a group on the Facebook with the following Link:

https://www.facebook.com/groups/ChaltaHaiJi/

You may like to join the group. Not convinced? Here are the recommendations:

Here is the Chalta Hai Anthem:

CHALTA HAI ANTHEM

[lineate][/lineate]Sab kuchh chalta hai,[lineate][/lineate]Sab kuchh chalta hai….[lineate][/lineate]Humour, jokes, poems, or cartoons,[lineate][/lineate]Nerds, naïve, saints or aflatoons,[lineate][/lineate]Sab kuchh chalta hai…[lineate][/lineate]

[lineate][/lineate]Original nahin to cut-paste karo,[lineate][/lineate]Apna aur sabaka time waste karo. Sab kuchh chalta hai…[lineate][/lineate]

[lineate][/lineate]Politics chalayo, desh bachayo,[lineate][/lineate]Shadi mandap main RaGa ko bithayo.[lineate][/lineate]Sab kuchh chalta hai…[lineate][/lineate]

[lineate][/lineate]Chahe Viraat Kohli maare sixer,[lineate][/lineate]Yaa kitchen mein chalu ho jaaye mixer.[lineate][/lineate]Sab kuchh chalta hai….[lineate][/lineate]

[lineate][/lineate]Desh hamaara banega beeg power,[lineate][/lineate] Khushiyon ka ho jaayegi shower.[lineate][/lineate] Sab kuchh chalta hai….[lineate][/lineate]

[lineate][/lineate]Traffic mein ham rehte hain # One,[lineate][/lineate]Accidents for us is great fun;[lineate][/lineate]Sab kuchh chalta hai….[lineate][/lineate]

[lineate][/lineate]Ghar mein ham karte nahin kaam,[lineate][/lineate]Office mein to aaraam hi aaraam.[lineate][/lineate]Sab kuchh chalta hai…[lineate][/lineate]

[lineate][/lineate]Trains and flights are never on time,[lineate][/lineate]To be honest and upright is a crime.[lineate][/lineate]Sab kuchh chalta hai….[lineate][/lineate]

[lineate][/lineate]Rishwat khori hai way of life,[lineate][/lineate]Moonh mein Ram Ram, bagal mein knife.[lineate][/lineate] Sab kuchh chalta hai, mere bhai,[lineate][/lineate]Sab kuchh chalta hai[lineate][/lineate]

Disclaimer: All characters in the above screen play are fictional and bear no resemblance to any person living or….well, living.

MUMBAI RAINS MEIN TRAFFIC KE SIDE EFFECTS

Three years back I wrote ‘Mumbai Rains’ in this blog and it continues to be very popular. Now, I bring you some of the side-effects of Mumbai Rains and traffic during the rains. One of my friends had put up this:

[lineate][/lineate]Foreigner: In Mumbai, do you drive to the left or the right?[lineate][/lineate]Mumbaiite: In Mumbai, we drive on what’s left of the roads.[lineate][/lineate]

Mumbai is a melting pot of cultures and languages. I came to know recently that ‘highway‘ is a Punjabi word, after all. When your vehicle goes over an unseen ditch or pothole (which happens in Mumbai quite often), you nurse injuries to yourselves and your vehicle and with every jump say in Punjabi: “Hai ve”! (O, my God)

Lets look at some peculiar scenes and situations caused by the havoc on roads as a result of Mumbai Rains.

Swayamvar

Deshpandes are looking for a husband for their elder daughter. She has finished her engineering in computer sciences and has landed a well deserved job at TCS. After her family gave the advertisement in the Matrimonial columns of several dailies, a few eligible boys have pressed their suits. The family has short-listed three of them: Ashok, Ganesh and Sunil. All three boys are also engineers and earning good salaries and from good families. Finally, it has to be Jyoti’s choice. She asks her brother to help. It comes out that since she has to spend the rest of her life with her husband, she wants to be sure (as any girl would) of the essential nature of her man. What if he curses and swears? What if he doesn’t have patience with her? What if he is utterly selfish? Her brother has the most pragmatic plan to find this out, “I shall drive with each one of them from Colaba to Borivali by car. At the end of the journeys, I shall have the answers for you.”

Modern day ‘swayamvar’, tougher than Arjuna shooting with arrow the eye of the fish and most effective way to separate men from boys.

Army Headquarters

During a presentation to the Chief, his Principal Staff Officers are in attendance. The subject is the purchase of the Tatra trucks, the controversy-ridden Tatra trucks.

[lineate][/lineate]Lieutenant General I: Finally, the government has cleared the purchase of these ****ing trucks. It took some coaxing.[lineate][/lineate]The Chief: It always does. But, I guess your team needs to be congratulated for all the hard work put in.[lineate][/lineate]Lieutenant General I: Thank you, Sir[lineate][/lineate]Lieutenant General II: But, Sir, there is a problem. Now that General VK’s assertions have called in question the quality of these vehicles, we need to carry out a rigorous acceptance test-inspection.[lineate][/lineate]Lieutenant General III: We have already prepared for this, Sir. Our engineers have designed an indigenous (stressing on the word so as to invite praise) testing terrain track for the inspections. It would cost only Rupees 5 Crores as compared to the imported track worth 20 Crores.[lineate][/lineate]The Chief: I think we can avoid the wasteful expenditure. Let the vehicles be received in Mumbai and test-drive on Mumbai roads during rains. If they can survive that, they can survive any terrain and conditions.[lineate][/lineate]Lieutenant General I to II (aside): Now why couldn’t we think of that?[lineate][/lineate]Lieutenant General II to I (aside): That’s why he is the Chief and not us.[lineate][/lineate]

III

Times Now’s Evening Top-Story

[lineate][/lineate]Arnab Boswami: This is the third case in the month when a woman in Mumbai has filed for divorce proceedings. She had been suspecting her husband of having an affair. She has been, therefore, timing her husband during his return journey from the office. The duration has been inexplicably (to her) on the increase and that confirmed her deep rooted suspicion that he has been spending time with the other woman, on the side. On the evening before filing the divorce proceedings, her husband spent all of five hours reaching back home. I have on the panel tonight Mister All-is-well Pigvijay Singh from Congress, Mrs. All-men-are-the-same Mamta Besharma, Chairperson of Women’s Commission in India, BJP spokesperson Arun Ketley and finally representative of Aam Aadmi Gharib Das. Let me first put this question to Pigvijay Singh; What is your government doing about this?[lineate][/lineate]PVS: The track record of our government on women’s issues is excellent. You may recall when Nirbhay died in Delhi, Manmohan Singh ji personally went to receive the dead body…[lineate][/lineate]Arnab (Cutting him short, as he always does): No, all this is only a façade. On an everyday basis women are still getting raped. Let me ask Mamta ji: Do you think this is the normal state or an exception that husbands reach back late from work?[lineate][/lineate]MB: This is on the increase, the traditional image of the Indian woman of being a housewife and being at the beck-and-call of her husband hasn’t changed much. We need to make strict laws to force men to return home on time and not to spend time with other women.[lineate][/lineate]Arun Ketley (on alert after MB uttered the word “law”: I don’t think making new laws will change the situation. For every known law, there are at least a dozen loopholes.[lineate][/lineate](Meanwhile the Aam Aadmi representative had been frantically raising his hand to be able to speak but no one pays him attention. Finally, Arnab Goswami, notices him and asks him: I think Gharib Das has something to say on this; are you on the side of the husband or the lady?[lineate][/lineate]Gharib Das (helplessly): I think you have caught the bull by the tail. The issue here is not a women’s issue at all. The issue is why did it take the husband all of five hours to reach home from office. And I will tell you why: it is because of the poor state of the roads in Mumbai during the rains. Anywhere to anywhere takes this much time.[lineate][/lineate]Arnab: I think Gharib Das here is digressing from the issue at hand; let me get back to Mamta now: do you really think making new laws will help?[lineate][/lineate](Poor Gharib Das hold his head in both hands and would have pulled out his hair if there were any left.[lineate][/lineate]

Scene at the Airlines Office

[lineate][/lineate]Harried Manager: For an hour’s flight, we have started calling people two hours in advance “due to traffic congestion in Mumbai” and yet people have been coming late. What should we do?[lineate][/lineate]Efficiency Expert (with solutions to all problems): I think we should start calling them three to four hours in advance. Indeed, for early morning flights, we must suggest to them to spend the night at the airport itself.[lineate][/lineate]Manager (with doubts): But, won’t it be a punishment for travellers?[lineate][/lineate]EE (Confidently): Since when has travel been anything but punishment in and out of Mumbai?[lineate][/lineate]

Scene at Watch Repair Shop

[lineate][/lineate]Irate Customer: This is my third visit to you to collect my repaired watch; every time you tell me you didn’t get time. What do you do with your time?[lineate][/lineate]Watch Repairer: Sir, the same thing what you do with your time; I spend most of my time commuting.[lineate][/lineate]Customer: Well, next time will be my last visit; what should I do if next time the watch is not ready?[lineate][/lineate]Watch Repairer: Sir, I suggest next time you buy a calendar. In Mumbai’s traffic, there is no point in looking at the watch for the time; one requires to keep track of the day and date one embarked on the journey.[lineate][/lineate]

Somewhere in Headquarters of LeT

[lineate][/lineate]Terrorist Chief: We need to plan another attack on Mumbai to avenge the hanging of Shaheed Ajmal Kasab[lineate][/lineate]Loyal Terrorist I: Inshallah, we need to do that; they cannot hang our young, innocent lads like Ajmal bhai.[lineate][/lineate]Loyal Terrorist II: But, we need to wait until the rains are over. During the rains we just can’t even reach our targets.[lineate][/lineate]Terrorist Chief: Trust the Indians for having come up with the ultimate defence against our brave Jehaadis.”

I can go on and on. But, the fact is that we shall soon come to a situation when Mumbaiites will stop going from anywhere to anywhere for fear of ageing on the roads during the rains.

AH MUMBAI!

[lineate][/lineate]A ten minute ride now takes hours,[lineate][/lineate]Thanks to Mumbai’s perpetual pot holes,[lineate][/lineate]All that happens is a few showers,[lineate][/lineate]
That make us scream: “Please Save Our Souls”.[lineate][/lineate]

[lineate][/lineate]Save Our Souls from the pools of corruption,[lineate][/lineate]That surround Mumbai’s make-over schemes,[lineate][/lineate]Everywhere it results in wasteful disruption,[lineate][/lineate]Throwing water over our hopes and dreams.[lineate][/lineate]

[lineate][/lineate]The same contractors who do shoddy work,[lineate][/lineate]Are the preferred bidders of the big-wigs,[lineate][/lineate]The taste of money gives them a smirk,[lineate][/lineate]As they move on the roads, their junky rigs.[lineate][/lineate]

[lineate][/lineate]Cordoning off roads for some future repairs,[lineate][/lineate]Is for them most of the work done,[lineate][/lineate]People suffer and are in tears and despair,[lineate][/lineate]But these leeches have their bloody fun.[lineate][/lineate]

[lineate][/lineate]The courts then come in and order a count,[lineate][/lineate]Of thousands of pot holes big and small,[lineate][/lineate]Controversies then begin to mount,[lineate][/lineate]That less than four feet is no hole at all![lineate][/lineate]

(Pic courtesy: meri-awaaz-suno@blogspot.in)

[lineate][/lineate]Lives are lost, people and vehicles are injured,[lineate][/lineate]But nothing moves these thick skinned thieves,[lineate][/lineate]They witness the effect of what they conjured,[lineate][/lineate]Public money passing through their corrupt sieves.[lineate][/lineate]

[lineate][/lineate]Life goes on with not a change in sight,[lineate][/lineate]Across Mumbai’s dismal road-show,[lineate][/lineate]We nurture a hope that the future is bright,[lineate][/lineate]We shall soon reach where we want to go.[lineate][/lineate]

[lineate][/lineate]Alas, our Netas and Babus know for sure,[lineate][/lineate]That people tolerance levels are high,[lineate][/lineate]Next Monsoons the same fate they can endure,[lineate][/lineate]Though this Monsoon may make them cry.[lineate][/lineate]

[lineate][/lineate]The financial capital of our nation,[lineate][/lineate]Is reflective of the state we are in,[lineate][/lineate]High hopes but lack of determination,[lineate][/lineate]Makes us, of our future, unfairly sanguine.[lineate][/lineate]

BEST OF ‘MAKE YOUR OWN QUOTES’

I noticed that on the Facebook and elsewhere, there is a great penchant about putting up Quotes. These range from quotes about Love, Friendship, Politics, Life; indeed about each and every subject. Whilst reading these quotes I was stuck by the realisation that somehow we have this feeling that the sages, saints and wise-people of the past had abundance of sane-advice on all kinds of subjects; but, by a curious quirk of fate, we ourselves and fellow citizens have nothing great to offer in terms of such advice. When I started analysing this, I reached the conclusion that there is nothing simpler than giving sane advice; the answer is really blowing in the wind; it is everywhere. We only have to gather these pearls around us and weave them in a garland. That’s how I started this Facebook page called ‘Make Your Own Quotes’ with an introduction: “There is nothing simpler than giving sane advice; you don’t have to follow great teachers. Make your own quotes and let others follow you.”

This venture started on the 25th of Feb 2013 and on the coming 25th of April, it would be all of two months old. I have received tremendous interest from friends in these Quotes that have not only advice, but, at times are humorous and even naughty. I give you here the best of ‘Make Your Own Quotes’ from my Facebook page for the last two months, with the promise that the best is yet to come as long as you subscribe to it by Liking the Page.

I like all quotes on Facebook; these provide quick and easy solutions to life’s seemingly complex problems. I believe life is as simple as Facebook; what you get is dependant upon your “settings”.

I started off by giving tips to people on how to make their own quotes, eg,

Great Quotes Tip #1: Compare Life, Love, Relationships etc to something mundane and infer “great” sounding advice out of it.Here is an (original example): “Friends should be like electricity wires; opposite poles, running parallel and lighting up lives by meeting”. For effect, inscribe this on a totally unrelated picture of, say, a Frog in a Pond. Wanna try your hand at it; go ahead….nothing is simpler! Try comparing Life to Beans!! Go ahead, now that you have joined this site, you will eventually follow your own quotes!!!

I followed this up with:

Great Quotes Tip #2
Take a famous Quote and make it stand on its head by a juxtaposition of words. They will really marvel at the quotes “great” and “pragmatic” message.

For example:
Where there is a way, there is a will!

Great Quotes Tip #3Simplify to the point of being ridiculous and you have a great Quote….especially if it is on a colourful picture.

Great Quotes Tip #4: Quotes about something called ‘LOVE’ will always be very popular; the best are those that don’t make any sense at all; for then they have this enigmatic quality about them, which is similar to the subject of the Quotes!

At a fairly early stage, I could make fun of my own quotes. Here is one:

Here is one of my early quotes about the reality of Poverty Alleviation Programmes:

Many times, My Quotes are regarding prevalent fads. Here is one of them:

I have made many that are simply ‘tongue in cheek’. This one was well liked. Indeed, a friend commented that in future she would think of this every time in a discussion:

I then started with Alternate Definitions of words. This one is my very first effort:

I have always been interested in Psychology and Philosophy. In this blog itself there is a section on Philosophy. Naturally, therefore, many of my quotes are on this subject. Here is one:

Some of my quotes are based on my observations and lessons that I have learnt in life. Here is one based on my observations:

I simply adored our dog Roger. I have made a number of quotes about Dog as the Master of Man. This is a simple one:

Half way through, I reminded everyone not to be rooted to the ideas of the sages and saints of the past by believing that somehow they are the only ones who could say wise things. Taste this:

Subject of God has also been favourite with me. This became my most popular Quote:

My love of dogs in general and Roger in particular is a recurring theme with me. Taste this:

I delve a lot into finding answers to Philosophical and Meta-Physical questions; questions about space, universe, God, Religion etc. I have a section called ‘Philosophy’ on my blog, wherein I give vent to these. Here is one of the quotes regarding this:

Love and Hate are subjects of Quotes for me too. Here is a genuine doubt reflected in a quote:

Whilst being on the subject of Love and Hate, here is one about Love and War and the uselessness of loving war:

All of us need some comforting thought or the other. For me, my most grateful thought has been that somehow God has not made me as miserable as He has made others. Thank God for that:

Here is a real tongue-in-cheek on the abundance of Free Advice available on the net these days, including my own!

Mahatma Gandhi believed in Simplicity. I have tried to reason out that most of Life’s lessons are simple indeed. Take a look:

Talking about Simplicity leading to Greatness, I genuinely feel that Being Poor at Heart is a great virtue indeed. The Quote below was as a result of this:

Here is my Quote on the Indian festival of Colour called Holi. This is totally tongue-in-cheek:

Love and Hate continued to fascinate me. One result was:

I considered that no subject is a taboo for me. The following is on the subject of Sex and it generated a fair deal of healthy discussion:

I also make Quotes on my observations. Here is one about great communication skills being mistaken for great knowledge:

http://www.dreamstime.com/-image21746016

Here is a bit of advice about giving and rendering service for others who can do nothing for you except to give you the gift of advice; but, it is the greatest gift.

Here is a humorous take on ‘forgetful husbands’. Is there another kind?

Here is another one on Free Advice:

I asked a genuine doubt if Heart has a Mind of its own. I received a number of smart answers:

And here is one about the place of Ego in Love:

Here is a real good one about the oft touted ‘Out-of-the-box’ thinking. Does it bring a smile on your face?

Here is one about taking on a popular saying and making the logic of it stand on its head. It was very well received:

Here is a dig on the ubiquitous and all powerful auditors: a necessary evil!

Ever heard of a word called Dililady? No? Well read the meaning:

Finally, let me end with one about the Mightier doing horrible things to those whom they find Meek and different; which is half the humanity or more! I cannot forget growing up as a boy belonging to a minority community in a majority state and being subjected to relentless taunts, abuses, innuendo and violence.

I am sure by now I have convinced you to subscribe to ‘Make Your Own Quotes’. What do you have to pay for the subscription? Nothing; not a paisa. It is totally free. All that you have to do is to Like the Page and it would be delivered to you on Facebook. You can make your own quotes and share these too with others.

MEMORIES OF 2012 – A YEAR OF HUMAN SPIRIT SOARING AND CRUSHED

The year 2012 started with Laura Dekker, a sixteen year old Dutch/German/New Zealander becoming the youngest person to circumnavigate the globe single-handed in a boat. (Read: ‘The Lure of Going on A Limb’) That was on the 21st of January. The year ended with a 23 years old girl in Delhi being gang-raped in a bus (on the evening of 16 Dec); which finally resulted in her death (13 agonising days later). A newspaper called her Nirbhaya (Hindi for Fearless) not only in deference to the identity of a rape victim to be protected but also to express the hope that human spirit can never be crushed even by the act of the rapists.

Nevertheless, we in India, and especially our women, cannot be faulted in forming the opinion that it is easier for a girl to go around the earth in a boat; but, it is fraught with untold dangers and risks for her to take a bus-ride in Delhi, the (rape) capital of India.

Similarly, on 15th of Oct this year Felix Baumgartner jumped from the edge of space and had a free-fall so as to break the sound-barrier at Mach 1.24 or 833 mph. He jumped from a height of 128,000 feet or 25 miles and landed safely in the desert.

A week before that, The Times of India reported that one in every ten deaths in road accidents in the world occur in India; which is in sharp contrast to India having only 1% of vehicles in the world. This makes it 14 people dying of road accidents in India every hour. We don’t have to go to the edge of the space and jump to get the thrill of near death; we get it everyday on our roads. Yes, the authorities are to be blamed for the poor state of our roads. However, making driving dangerous in India is our own doing. We have no one to blame. (Read: ‘Why Must We Love Indian Roads’ and ‘We Are Like That Only’ and ‘If You Drive In India – Part I’, and Part II)

India now has some of the richest people in the world. We have as many as 61 billionaires (counting only those with declared income and not the Ponty Chadha types who grew empires under the very nose of the authorities). The Forbes magazine reported in Oct 2012 that the net worth of 100 richest Indians is $ 250 billion. The estimate of our GDP is $ 1.84 trillion. We are now the tenth largest economy in the world in real terms and third largest in purchasing power parity. And yet, we have the largest populations of poor in the world; a UN Survey in Nov 2011 showed that in the eight northern states of the country we have more poor than in the whole of African continent. Our farmers routinely commit suicide unable to pay loans they take for crops. We are ranked between 120 to 150 in all indices of human growth. However, our state arrogance routinely tout us as very close to becoming a “world power”. We have between 40 to 60 per cent of our people living below the UN designated $1.25 per day mark for poverty.

One in every six people in the world is now an Indian. Yet, in the Olympics, with our best performance ever in the number of medals (2 silver and 4 bronze) we were ranked 55th. (Read: ‘Olympics Are Biased Against Indians’) Cricket is the only game in which we are somewhere in the top; but, getting there makes us so complacent that we again start competing for the bottom immediately after reaching those heights. Indeed, a jamboree called IPL shows that we like to gloat in money power more than any finesse in the actual game.

Our judicial system is so bad (Read: The Great Indian Judicial Circus) that most Indians do not hope to get any justice during their life-time. The Times of India reported on 05 Oct 2012 that we have now 43.22 Lakh cases waiting only in High Courts. As far as numbers in lower courts are concerned one can only say that whilst in positive indices we are at the rock-bottom, in negatives (like road accidents) we are the toppers.

On 5th of Dec this year The Indian Express reported that despite all the focus on anti-corruption campaigns in India (Read: ‘Anna Hazare and the Indian Democracy’; and ‘Anna Hazare and the Indian Middle Class’; and ‘Indians Bartering Character for Prosperity’), India is ranked 94th in Corruption Perception Index (CPI)Ratings by Transparency International.

Our cities and towns are now unliveable with filth and chaos everywhere. Diseases like dengue are assuming alarming proportions (Read my humorous take on potential for energy through waste: Good New for Mumbai). Mumbai recently got ranked as the filthiest big city in the world and Delhi is not far behind.

I can go on and on. Lets see where the hope lies. Some said at the height of our anti-corruption demonstrations this year that the end of patience of our people has been reached and people are now prepared to show zero-tolerance towards corruption. My take on this was that corruption doesn’t exist only in higher circles in India; we are all part of it when we indulge in petty bribe taking and giving. We too have to stop this scourge from spreading just as we accuse those in power.

One of the best programmes that came about the problems that the country faces was Aamir Khan’s Satyamev Jayate. The programme research and presentation were of very high order. It cautioned people against seeking quick-fix solutions but wanted people to at least take the first steps towards putting things right. (Read: ‘Born Free? Satyamev Jayate? Lets Work Towards It’)

That outstanding programme shouldn’t be a distant memory with us as we show angry response from one issue to the other. As 2012 comes to an end lets all resolve that we shall actually do all those things that are necessary to make India a great country and Indians happier, safer, securer, healthier and more knowledgeable.

Here is wishing all my readers a very happy new year: 2013.

AN ALTERNATE PHILOSOPHY OF LIFE

There is no stronger and more wide-spread philosophy than the Philosophy of Convenience. Indeed, I have proved it in another article: ‘How Innocent Or Unbiased We Can Get?’ that there is only one way to get pure innocence or pure un-bias and that is the Concept of Free Will, which can be achieved only outside this universe. We have self or as Sri Guru Granth sahib calls ‘haume’ writ large on the footprints of our lives. None of us can hope to get out of this loop of seeking something for ourselves, our interests, our family interests, our community, village, town, nation; indeed anything that is ours.

The Philosophy of Our Convenience was born the day Self, Ego, ‘haume’ ‘my or mine’ were born; ie, the day the universe was created. Lets take the Concept of Happiness for example and lets say you are one of those self-sacrificing saints who does ‘everything’ for others’ happiness. In the end, you still have to reckon with this claim: “It gives me happiness to make others happy.” There is no way you can take ‘me’ out of even seemingly ‘selfless’ deeds.

One fallout of this ‘Philosophy of Convenience’ is that most – if not all – of us wish to be regarded as virtuous, no matter what we are doing. The reason is that most – if not all – of us feel that people when they look at our deeds they don’t really understand what goes through our minds when we do what we do. At other times, we detest the tendency in people to misread the thoughts of our minds and give them a different colour than the one we had intended. And the best part is that our intention is also dynamic that keeps pace with our current and ever-changing philosophy of how to be virtuous and seen as virtuous.

Our collective and generational philosophy of convenience made us invent the following (Read: ‘Whose God Is It Anyway?’, ‘The Virtual World’ and ‘Absolute Virtue’):

God.
Religion.
Good, Bad, Virtuous and Evil.
Time.

Each one of these were and is necessary for community or societal living. The first three are easy to understand as the products of our desire to make rules about our lives in a society or community. The last one is also not difficult to comprehend: we invented Time only for our part of the Universe, ie, one rotation of the Earth around the Sun would be 24 hours and during the revolution of the Earth in an orbit around the Sun seasons would be there depending upon if the Earth is closer to the Sun (Summer) in its elliptical orbit, or away (Winter). Living in a society on Earth, Time and Seasons help us to convert a Relative Phenomenon (Time is dependent upon the velocity of light) into an Absolute one; so much so that we tick off people who are late for work by a few minutes; or, call it a New Year at the stroke of midnight, wherever we are.

The Philosophy of Hindu Religion is that God is beyond all emotions, biases and Time; and that if we are to be one with God, we have to detach ourselves from all worldly feelings, possessions, time and even thoughts. Finding Paramatama, therefore, calls for rising above – what we call as – worldly feelings and thoughts, needs and desires. In Sri Guru Granth Sahib this condition is called ‘Jeevatya marna’ (to kill (all worldly thoughts whilst living one’s life). Total abnegation of all worldly things and total surrender to the will of God is the biggest philosophy of convenience that we have derived for ourselves. Let us examine the lines in Sri Guru Granth Sahib:

[lineate]जो नर दुख में दुख नहिं मानै। [/lineate][lineate]सुख सनेह अरु भय नहिं जाके, कंचन माटी जानै।। [/lineate][lineate]नहिं निंदा नहिं अस्तुति जाके, लोभ-मोह अभिमाना। [/lineate][lineate]हरष शोक तें रहै नियारो, नाहिं मान-अपमाना।। [/lineate][lineate]आसा मनसा सकल त्यागि के, जग तें रहै निरासा। [/lineate][lineate]काम, क्रोध जेहि परसे नाहीं, तेहि घट ब्रह्म निवासा।। [/lineate][lineate]गुरु किरपा जेहि नर पै कीन्हीं, तिन्ह यह जुगुति पिछानी। [/lineate][lineate]नानक लीन भयो गोबिंद सों, ज्यों पानी सों पानी।। [/lineate]

It says, in simple words, with the blessing of the Guru, the person who realises and keeps himself away from worldly feelings and things, understands the Creation, and becomes one with his/her Creator just as Water merges with Water.

buddhism-a-philosophy-for-life-w — Buddhism or the Philosophy of Moksha or Nirvana

When we examine the Truth of this advice we realise that being beyond lust, anger, greed, belongingness, sorrow, grief, shame and pride brings us closer to our inner self and hence to God. Lets say because of one’s lust a son is born and one feels a sense of fulfillment and pride in having an intelligent son; one gets angry or ashamed when he does something wrong and one is full of greed for him to do well in life. However, he is killed in an accident and one is full of intense and indescribable grief and helplessness and even frustration with God for being unnatural in recalling the son before the father. That’s the time when the wise and the saintly, through collective and generational philosophy of convenience tell you the following:

He was never yours (Only God owns everything and everybody) so why are you sorrowful?
God’s creation never dies and hence your son is reborn as someone else’s son now.
Grief and sorrow, just like happiness and pride are worldly feelings and God keeps giving us periodic hints to rise above these.
Look at the entire srishti (Creation or Universe) as your own and you will realise that you neither gained anything when you had him nor lost anything when he went away.
God loves us all and will never do anything to sadden us; it is just that understanding of His ways is beyond us all.

Various rituals were and are born out of this philosophy of convenience. In my village in Punjab, women from neighbouring houses and families used to congregate at the house of a family whereat someone had died and they would beat their chests and do maatam (mourning) so as to help the bereaved to take out intense feelings of grief at their loss. Death is not seen as the final “end”, but is seen as a turning point in the seemingly endless journey of the indestructible “atman” or soul through innumerable bodies of animals and people. Hence, Hinduism prohibits excessive mourning or lamentation upon death, as this can hinder the passage of the departed soul towards its journey ahead: “As mourners will not help the dead in this world, therefore (the relatives) should not weep, but perform the obsequies to the best of their power.” The period of mourning, therefore, last until 13 days and has various stages such as Uthala (Rising), and Chautha (fourth day).

Now what if we have all got it wrong? What if God had given us various feelings and thoughts to face them and not to run away from them? A strangely rebellious thought? No, on the other hand, it is realisation of the fact that nothing can be created by anyone other than by God, if there is one. If He is the all-powerful and the only Creator than He alone made all worldly things, feelings and thoughts. Lets say, over a period of Time (our own invention; else, it doesn’t exist), since the beginning of the Earth, we, human beings, intensified these feelings a hundred times and brought newer thoughts and biases to these. However, nothing can be created out of nothingness; sometime or the other, however weak, these feelings originated and would have been given to us by God. We worship Earth, Sky, Water, Fire etc because these are God’s creations. However, why does our philosophy of convenience goads us to run away from emotions, feelings, thoughts etc in order to discover Him? Did God create these as obstacles so that we’d cross these and then find Him; a sort of cosmic Hide and Seek?

And who are we trying to please by abnegating these God’s creations? Our God, and for the good of our soul. I think the dichotomy lies in the fact that the world has evolved as a society or community whereas such abnegation makes us do something only for one person or one soul that is our own. Where do you want to stay; as an ascetic in the hills and caves or as a social being in the world?

Don’t seek God, therefore, for yourself and for the peace of your soul. It is a downright selfish and un-godly feeling. Seek kindness, and goodness for another person, another soul and leave the rest to God to give your just reward or punishment.

Let alone run away from feelings, thoughts and emotions; I am suggesting that you own someone’s loss, feel his or her grief, face his anger, pride and greed and be kind to him or her rather than at all times being worried about obtaining Paramatama for yourself.

Three years back, Mr. NR Narayana Murthy, the founder chairman of Infosys gave a speech at the Lal Bahadur Shastri Institute of Management, on 09 Oc 2009. The speech was titled ‘Learning From The West’. It is worth reading this speech and I have given you the link. See what a shift of philosophy from the individual to the society can do for us Hindus. It is the need of the hour; we need it more than at any time in our history.

TEMPLES OR TOILETS?

First, let’s have a look at the commonality lest this remark by Jairam Ramesh, the Rural Development Minister should end up comparing two uniquely different things. I think the commonality lies in both being answers to one’s inner needs. Once the call of God or nature is heard, for some, it is difficult to have the feeling all pent-up without release.

But, why did the honourable (sorry, not honourable, since Pranab da has ordained that even the President shouldn’t be called honourable. Indeed, taking a cue from this, most ministers prefer to be called what they are, ie, dishonourable; but are afraid this might invite charges of sedition) minister place toilets a notch above the temples? I feel that the simple reason is that whilst you can satisfy the pressures of your inner voice and yearning for the omnipotent and the omnipresent right in the open; satisfying the needs of your bowels in the open is counted as uncivilised conduct in most countries other than in India.

Do the ministers really have this penchant to compare public edifices to toilets? If the answer is yes, as it appears to be, then why did they not take it sportively when one Aseem Trivedi compared the temple of Indian democracy, ie, the Parliament, to a toilet?

Temples and Toilets both are totally secular words; they don’t really give away the religious attachments or sentiments of the visitors: one can be in a temple of any religion; similarly, what you do in a toilet doesn’t give away your religion. Perhaps, the only thing that can be brought out through this attempt to compare is that even religion has outlived its communal stance. It is high time that it too becomes more private (Read: ‘Whose God Is It Anyway?‘). I would rather have my religion in the temple of my heart rather than wear it on my sleeve at all times. It is better to be Good than Religious in the way religion has come to be interpreted these days.

I am apolitical too and have no real bias towards any political party as such. However, I feel that the minister is not driven by the desire to scandalise through the comparison. He has, indeed, brought out a harsh reality of the Indian rural scene. It was only recently in the history of free India that carrying night soil was banned. It was indeed the most humiliating thing for a human being to do. Even after the ban, with our burgeoning population causing severe scarcity of toilets, the scenes of open defecation in our country are ubiquitous. I lived in a much cleaner part of Mumbai, near the Afghan church, when I was in the navy. Even there, dozens of people, from the nearby colony, did their things in the open at any times of the day. I was quick to draw a ministerial comparison that whilst Japan is called the ‘Land-of-the-Rising-Sun’, most of our villages and cities can be called ‘Land-of-the-Rising-Bums’.

Such open defecation doesn’t bring out equal rights of men and women; the former are seen to be doing their things by taking aims at the walls and bushes whereas the latter are handicapped in this pursuit. Women, as compared to men, do require toilets. They often expose themselves to derision and lust when their need overcomes their decency and there are no toilets around for them.

Similarly, lets look at the needs and civic sense of our children. In Dharavi, as of now, there are 750 people to a toilet and hence most children learn their first civic lesson from their parents; which is to consider the whole world as a toilet bowl. When Swami Vivekananda visited the USA and he was asked what regime or religious routine he’d recommend for children, he replied, “I think, for children, football should be more important than religion.” He wasn’t scandalising anyone, exactly how Jairam Ramesh isn’t. We need to build more toilets for our people, especially for women and children.

Why do we, as Indians, pretend to be shocked when someone makes a bold statement which is as factual as that we need more teachers than godmen, or more upright citizens than politicians? Would it have been alright if the minister had said we need more doctors than cricketers and more engineers than actors?

Why do we sulk and protest if someone shows us the mirror? And lets face it; if the Minister for Rural Development hadn’t used this comparison we would have refused to see the mirror.

GIVING AWAY MEMORIES

After retirement we moved into a small two-bedroom flat in a far suburb of Mumbai; this is as big as the one that I could afford after being an officer in the Navy for close to 37 years. In my last house whilst still in the Navy, my wife and I took months to sort out things and pack. We knew that we had to give away lot of stuff that we had accumulated. This invariably used to happen with our frequent postings in the Navy.

I saw this 1957 Hindi movie with my parents; one of the earliest ones that I saw with them. The movie was named ‘Bhabhi‘ (brother’s wife) starring Balraj Sahni and Nanda. Rajinder Krishan wrote these most appropriate verses:

[lineate]Toone tinaka tinaka chun kar nagri ek basaai,[/lineate][lineate]Baarish mein teri bheegi palken dhoop mein garmi khaai,[/lineate]Gum na kar jo teri mehnat tere kaam na aayi[lineate]Achha hai kuchh le jaane se dekar hi kuchh jaana[/lineate][lineate]Chal udja re panchhi ke ab ye des hua begana[/lineate]

[lineate](O’ bird, twig by twig you picked a complete nest of a world[/lineate][lineate]Rain wet your brow, and sun made you sweat[/lineate][lineate]Don’t rue that you couldn’t enjoy the fruit of your labour.[/lineate][lineate]It is better to give and go then to take and leave[/lineate][lineate]Fly away bird, now this place is not yours anymore)[/lineate]

So, as we move house, what do we finally end up giving away? Most often we give away junk that was only gathering moss, mildew and dirt. This would include all those notes and dockets from the Staff College that I’d assumed I couldn’t ever do without and which, I had never cared to read even once after leaving the Staff College. Then there would be those mementoes of “love and affection” given to me at farewells without any particular emotion other than the relief at seeing me go. However, like the Master Card ad, there would still be a lot of things that we’d wince if we had to give them away; those things that money can’t buy; because there are so many memories attached to them.

It is not my intention to bore you with a list of such things. I know each one of us has a list of such dear and precious things. However, I shall give you some examples of what it means. I gave away the first vehicle that I ever owned: a Yezdi 250 cc mobike. I still remember the number: KEE 438. I bought the mobike in the year 1980 when, as a lieutenant in the Navy, I was undergoing my specialisation course in communications and electronic warfare at Navy’s Signal School in Cochin (now Kochi). My would-be-wife was at Coimbatore and I made many a trip up and down between Cochin and Coimbatore on this bike during its (my?) running-in period. Once, on a long weekend, we went to Coonoor together.

When she visited Bombay where I got posted, we decided to go to Goa on – we called it – our donkey. One officer had named his bike ‘kilometer eater’; but, we were quite happy about calling it donkey for not only carrying our weights but many other things (for example, at one time we carried a complete cooking gas cylinder on it since waiting for the delivery boy would have been too much). What a trip it turned out to be. We returned from the Navy Ball at about 1 AM and suddenly, without any plan, I asked Lyn if she wanted to visit Goa. Knowing my capricious moods, she was fearful of asking me “when” but, I solved that problem for her by saying, “Tomorrow morning”. We got up at 5 AM, hurriedly packed up a rucksack and off we went “for a few days”, which finally turned out to be almost a month.

Oh, to be young again. Love teaches you togetherness and we were not in any hurry to reach anywhere. We clicked pics, admired the scenery and I even tried to teach her driving. Together with our donkey, we owned the world. Here is Lyn on the Bombay-Goa highway as it used to look in 1980 (not that it is better 32 years later):

We reached Belgaum at about 10 PM and that’s the time Lyn asked me if we should finally find a shelter for the night. At about midnight we found the Military Engineering Services Inspection Bungalow (MES IB). The Major-in-Charge saw our blackened faces (with the soot from the lorries), gave us a room and had only one request: “Please have breakfast with us before leaving tomorrow morning.” We were wondering why; but, the mystery was solved over breakfast. Apparently, just before they turned in for the night, the Major’s wife had a debate with her husband that the spirit of adventure was dying down in the armed forces. Just then we landed up.

The three of us: Lyn, donkey and I, had a most adventurous Bombay-to-Goa trip and stay in Goa. On the way back, we loaded our donkey on a ship (for 90 bucks) and returned to Bombay.

Our donkey instinctively understood us and never gave us any anxious moments. When Arjun, our elder son was born in 1984, that was the first vehicle he rode, perched up between Lyn and me. For one year after Arun was born in end 1986, we still managed on donkey with Arun held in her arms by Lyn and Arjun sitting on the fuel tank. God always gave us enough; in the year 1988 I was sent to Spain on duty and I returned with enough money to buy a car. Good bye, donkey. He went for 3500 rupees. All of us were saddened to see him go and the children even cried. I took solace in Sahir Ludhianvi’s lyrics:

[lineate]Jiyo to aise jiyo jaise sab tumhaara hai;[/lineate] [lineate]maro to aise ke jaise tumhaara kuchh bhi nahin.[/lineate]

(Live in such a way as if everything belongs to you; but die as with nothing belonging to you)

During our days there used to be a song by Trini Lopez with the title: ‘What have I got of my own?’ In the end, life and particularly life in the navy with its frequent transfers has taught me how true are these words:

https://youtube.com/watch?v=ICeHLkaolyI%3Ffs%3D1

Then there was this playpen we got for Arjun. He was never alone there; he was there with his cat and toys. It was large, painted lavender and Lyn even made a mosquito-net for it. The front side could be slid down for helping the baby in and out and, though large, it even had wheels to move it around. Arjun used to love being inside it; the problem was that Lyn and I hadn’t made peace about not having him with us on our own bed. The Friday movies on the doordarshan and Benjamin Spock had prompted us to spend Rupees 1000 in getting this cot cum playpen. Arjun, in the vein of most babies who won’t be neglected, knew when exactly to wail endlessly during our watching the movie on doordarshan that used to start at 7:30 PM. Once evening, when a repeat of Rajesh Khanna’s Anand was to be aired, we planned to play with him in the afternoons so much so that at the appointed hour, Arjun would be fast asleep in the cot-cum-playpen. The movie began and we watched about 30 minutes of it without any interruptions from Arjun. However, both of us knew that our minds were elsewhere. Finally, I uttered what Lyn wanted to hear all the while, “Go and get Arjun; it is no fun watching the movie without him keeping us from watching it.” We moved to Delhi in 1987 and the cot went with us. Arun couldn’t use it initially because we didn’t have a house; we lived in one room with all our baggage lying around us in unopened boxes. When we finally got a big enough house to open the cot-cum-playpen for Arun, it was time for posting; this time for undergoing Staff Course in Coonoor (Nilgiris). We finally had to give it away without Arun using it much. However, we still wistfully remember the fun it used to be to put first Arjun and then Arun there in the first world that was entirely their own:

In the meantime, when it wasn’t possible to open the cot, we had to buy a smaller one for the smaller one. Lo and behold, even the elder one used to like me taking them for a ride in this cot-cum-pram-cum-swing (it had a stand from where it could be hung and the baby rocked to sleep). This was even greater fun for them than the playpen since they could put their toys in it and push it around the house. It was sad to see it go. But, then the relief was that the children didn’t require it anymore.

What a lot of fun they had on this cycle for a few years. Arjun felt like a big boy taking his younger brother around and telling him reassuringly, “Don’t worry; I am a safe driver”.

It was nice to see Arjun grow into a boy on this cycle from an infant. But, our heart was in our mouths when we had to give it away:

I remember giving away my complete collection of Hemant Kumar’s songs on audio cassettes, my PG Wodehouse Books, my collection of Readers Digests, flower pots that had started looking deliciously verdant just when the transfer orders came, photo frames and even paintings each one of those had a story to tell. Would the new owner have guessed how much we paid in terms of minutes of our lives (and not money) in maintaining them, cherishing them and looking after them?

Curiously, there were also things that we didn’t feel a thing about losing; electronic stuff, eg, music systems, televisions, fridges, clothes, shoes and the like. This only goes to prove that things acquire life of their own because of priceless memories attached to them and not because of their money-value. I still miss our first telly: Dyanora 14″ B&W portable, though.

The other day I read a story by a fellow blogger Anupam Patra who writes very imaginatively. In the story a man gave away his eyes to his killer’s son. That got me thinking how can giving away anything inanimate be so hard or difficult?

As Elton John sang in ‘Talking Old Soldiers’:

[lineate]Just ignore all the others;[/lineate] [lineate]you got your memories….[/lineate]

Finally, the pictures – both in the sepia and on the mind’s screen – are still with me; the memories are never given away. I can still relive even my own childhood without any of the material things associated with it let alone that of my children.

Mujhe ab bhi yaad hai kitana ameer tha main…..jab paani mein mere jahaz chalte the (I still remember how rich I was then….when my ships used to ply in the waters):

DIMINISHING DAD

It wasn’t very long ago when I was big and rich; really big and rich. Less than three decades back.

I had a small telly, the best I could afford with my Navy pay. I didn’t have a car since I couldn’t afford it. My wife and I used to call our Yezdi 250 cc a donkey since the mobike could carry everything for us including gas cylinders that we used to carry on it from Navy Nagar in Colaba to Worli where, after I got married, the Navy had given me a one room house. It was a large room though. We put a double bed on one side of the room, had a kitchen slab on the other side with a dining table right in front of it. We became very fond of walks along Worli Sea Face since it used to cost nothing. At the end of the walk we used to sit at the breakwater and reward ourselves with two rupees of singdana (peanuts).

You must be wondering where do ‘big‘ and ‘rich‘ get into the description of me? Well, let me explain ‘big’ first. Immediately after marriage, until several years after that, my wife used to think I was the greatest man she had come across. And then, when the fact of my not being as big and as invincible as she had imagined started to sink in, our two sons were born. I was an instant hero with them until their teens. As an example, the telly was hardly ever switched on; my sons used to think that nothing could be more interesting than what they called Papa TV. After dinner, it was race with them to the bed or the carpet where I used to perch them on my tummy and tell them stories; the most serialised and longest one was the story of the animals in a jungle with such names as Georgie Porgie Lion, Richard Snake, Elizabeth Cow, Charlie Elephant, and Martin crow. They would be breathless to know what happened next when Georgie Porgie took all the animals for a picnic by the Jungle Train. Papa TV had everything: songs, poems, jokes and even commercial breaks when they’d run up to their mom and have milk and come back.

Arjun & Arun enjoying Papa TV (the actual TV lies switched off)

Interestingly, they were fascinated by everything that I did or said and indeed some of my expressions are still prevalent in the family; for example, whenever I made a proposal, say, about a picnic or to have Kulfi at Punjabi Kulfi at Chowpatty, I’d ask them, “Yes? No? Maybe?” or after explaining something I’d look at their faces and ask, “Not understood?” Recently, Arun, our younger son explained something about what he does at his Animation job and ended up asking me, “Not understood?”

I was their best toy. With whatever money I had, I had got them the best of toys but they were quiet content playing with me.

Their ‘best toy’

Also, both the children’s future passions were nurtured in the childhood. Arjun, our elder son, has emerged as one of the leading critics of pop music in India. Below is a picture of Arjun listening to the first of the songs that he would have understood the tune of. It was on my Sony two-in-one that I got in 1975 on my first foreign cruise as a navy officer.

Arun (the younger son), on the other

Arjun’s first exposure to music

hand, became adept at a Commodore 64 computer and I got him a few ‘video games’ to play on it. He had to put a magnetic cassette in a corder attached to the computer and type out ‘Load’ on the computer and then type out ‘Play’ and then race those speeding cars with the pointer keys on the keyboard. This he did when he was all of three years old. So, even before he learnt ‘A for Apple, B for Bat’, he learnt ‘L for Load and P for Play’ on the com. Arun, later, became the video-gaming champ in India for seven years and went abroad each time to take part in video gaming competitions. Arun, therefore, wants to design his own games and is presently a qualified Animator.

The best education that my wife and I gave them was to be good human beings and gentlemanly at all times. To be able to look themselves in the eye, at all times; to speak the truth even when it hurt them; to be bold and courageous even when the majority did wrong; and to know right from wrong. What about religion? My wife is a Catholic and I am a Sikh. We never forced the children to strictly follow any or both the religions. They are free to choose on their own. Arjun, therefore, believes in God without following any particular religion. Arun doesn’t believe in God. Both of them, however, agree with me that organised religion is beginning to do more harm to our society and that religion should become more personal and private. It is better to be good and “irreligious” than to be “religious” but evil.

We never encouraged them to babble so as to look cute. Both could, therefore, express themselves well and freely. Also, both did not have to agree to our point of view. I have enumerated several incidents in this blog when I could learn things from them. For example, on one occasion we, as a family, went by our Maruti 800 (we could get a car in 1988; thank God for that) for a picnic at one of the beaches in Vizag. In my enthusiasm I had driven the car close to the beach on the sand. Being on the East coast, the sunset was fairly early and we later realised that dark was setting in fast. The only difficulty was that as I started to race forward, the right side rear wheel made a burrow in the sand, started digging deeper and panic set in with me since it was as a remote part of the beach with nobody around. The more I tried, the worse it became. Arun, in the meantime, kept telling me, “Try the jack, dad.” How idiotic, I kept thinking. This boy of seven had no idea, I thought, that a jack was to be used on a static car and not whilst moving or trying to move. However, finally, after trying various things, I tried the jack for the right wheel. As the car lunged forward with the force of the left wheel, the right too came out of the burrow. The jack of course fell but now the car was out. We collected the jack and drove back without getting into any more panic.

All kids want to step into their dad’s shoes

Incidents like these taught me a lesson: to have more trust in their abilities rather than choose the safe option of always trying to spoon-feed them. It took me some time to learn that a child when he steps out of his childhood and enters boyhood, wants to step into his dad’s shoes. But then, that’s only a transitory stage. Soon, he wants to step out of his dad’s shoes and see the world with his own eyes, make mistakes and move on. In Arjun and Arun, the desire to do things on their own was probably more intense than most other children. They’d get very impatient if I would give them detailed instructions about anything. Here is Arjun on the right trying to learn to tie a necktie on his own. Arun too broke a few teeth but learnt to ride a bicycle without my holding the handle or steadying it for him. How did this absence of spoon-feeding help them? Initially, they used to read my poems and articles etc and marvel at how well I’d written these. Later, I found that they could write much better than me.

There were two big surprises for us: one, when Arjun appeared for his CBSE exam (12th std). Because of my frequent transfers, I thought he had not been able to study much and hence, when the results came; we sat around the computer to check these. I said a silent prayer to ensure he’d pass. Just before his mark-sheet flashed on the screen, I asked him what was his expectation? He said he expected to be amongst the top rankers. I made a mental note of his misplaced expectation and thought I must speak to him about it later sometime. But, lo and behold, Arjun with nearly 93 percent marks had stood first in all Naval Public Schools in India.

Arun too gave us a pleasant surprise. The first one was that he could order his computer accessories and parts on the computer at the age of ten. Only when the courier would come to deliver a part at home we’d realise that Arun had ordered it from thousands of miles away. Then one day he asked our permission to take part in a video gaming competition. We allowed him “as an encouragement” but never knew he’d win and would continue winning for the next seven years.

Arun learnt music entirely on his own. He’d sit for long hours in front of the computer and try to learn the basics from the net. A few years later, he could write his own music and play. With another friend of his he formed a band of his own. Nowadays when he plays and gets a fair amount of audience applause, no one believes that he had no trainer to teach him about music or how to play the guitar.

They finally grew very fast and very soon started rubbing shoulders with me. I had got substantially diminished by that time. But, then I had to be content with the fact that my wife and I gave them values, told them what is good and bad, gave them means to discover their true potential and then left them on their own

to make their lives the way they felt the lives should turn out to be. In the end, a diminished dad is not a question of parental ego being hurt. It is a recognition of the fact that life is unique and precious and parents ain’t God who should, at all times control the lives of their children and mould these to produce clones of themselves. My mother still says, “Bachche tanh kaka bachche hi hunde ne.” (Son, children will always be children). True, mom, but they have every right to live their own lives and not their parents’ lives. A diminished father or diminished parents is not such a bad thing after all.

In so many different ways, they’d always be children. But, why should I impose my point of view all the times? I don’t want them to step in my shoes. I want them to make their unique lives independent of me, whatever they choose. One of my friends, when I told him that Arjun has got into music and Arun into animation, told me about the courage that I had in allowing my sons to follow their passions, even when they ain’t earning tons of money, which they would have if they had followed traditional fields.

That brings me to the question of money. At one time, in my childhood, I was very rich indeed. I owned ships, skies, clouds, stars. Here is one of my ships:

I continued being rich in my life; I always had enough. I never scrounged. On my Yezdi, when we travelled, with one son perched ahead on the fuel tank and another in my wife’s arms on the backseat, I was rich. I was rich when, as a lieutenant, I took money out of my provident money and took my wife with me to a two week duty cum holiday to Italy, France and England. I was rich when I married my wife on my own and we didn’t know how we’d run a household without any money between both of us.

My father too was rich when he earned all of Rupees 150 when I was small. His father once gave him advice, “Mani (my dad’s name) I pray to God that you’d spend a lot of money.” Dad, at that time thought of it as an idiotic advice since money would grow multifold if one’d save it rather than spend it. Many years later, he learnt the truth. Of course, you can’t foolishly spend money. Dad never scrounged and somehow had enough. He passed on this richness to me and I, in turn, passed on this God given richness to my children.

Life is a dream, they say. But, I ask you, how many people have the courage to live that dream and…..allow their children to live their own?

Being diminished, as I said, is not a bad thing at all.

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.

Category: Life is like that

LOVEAPALOOZA – ARJUN AND SAMIRA’S LIFETIME MUSIC FEST

DOESN’T PAY TO BE A GOODIE-GOODIE GUY

ARMED FORCES PERSONNEL WERE RICH

CHALTA HAI – MOHAN RAM-BHAROSE

MUMBAI RAINS MEIN TRAFFIC KE SIDE EFFECTS

AH MUMBAI!

BEST OF ‘MAKE YOUR OWN QUOTES’

MEMORIES OF 2012 – A YEAR OF HUMAN SPIRIT SOARING AND CRUSHED

AN ALTERNATE PHILOSOPHY OF LIFE

TEMPLES OR TOILETS?

GIVING AWAY MEMORIES

DIMINISHING DAD

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

THE BEST OF ZINDAGI (LIFE) SONGS

NOSEY ABOUT NOSTALGIA

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.

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)

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

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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.

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)

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

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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)