Thursday, May 29, 2008

The Great Indian Parental Dream

Day and time: Early Monday morning

Place: Panvel rickshaw stand

Destination: Rasayani


Heading to college as usual after the weekend spent at home, I was waiting for the mandatory 10 people to fill into the ‘tum-tum’ or the 10-seater Vikram rickshaw, which is the second line of transport in Indian towns and villages, after the ubiquitous ST buses. The ‘tum-tum’ leaves only when it is filled to capacity. A lady seated herself on the seat facing me. She was a typical sari-clad, bony, Maharastrian, village domiciled, married young woman. She was accompanied by her 5 year old daughter. She was observing me with curiosity. She finally inquired about the place I was heading to. I replied that I was going to Rasayani. She wanted to know whether I lived there. I answered that I was a student at S. S. Patil College of Agricultural Business Management in Rasayani, the local MLA, Vivekananda Patil’s college, and that I stayed at the hostel there. She seemed awestruck by my large travel bag and by the fact that I was living away from family. She exclaimed that it is amazing how a girl like me was living away from home for the sake of education. I responded by saying that I was not alone. There are plenty of girls and boys who do the same. She then started a monologue about the educational status of her family and the virtues of education.

“Education is so important. No one can succeed without it. It is only after we educate ourselves that we can improve in life. We women should be very particular about our education. My husband has studied up till class 12. I have completed my Bachelor of Arts in Marathi literature. (She had an air of pride at this point). We have enrolled our daughter in an English medium school. Only English medium schooling makes sense in this day. (Pointing at her daughter) But she has no interest in her studies. (Can you) talk to her about it.”

I asked her the class in which her girl was currently. I frankly saw no point in explaining the necessity of regular studies to a child so young that she had no concern about the state of her clothes (While playing, her frock had come up right to her belly) The lady said that the girl was in Upper Kindergarten. I replied that the child was too young to take studies seriously and must play to her heart’s content at this age. My chatty co-passenger’s next response left me speechless.

“Oh no, she must start studying hard. The girl must at least become a doctor.”

God Almighty! "Child must become a doctor" - The Great Indian Parental Dream.

I struggled to keep myself from laughing but controlled myself by thinking that the woman was wonderful. Despite of living in a locality where child marriage is still rife, she has big dreams for her daughter. Whether her girl enters medical school, we will never know, but she will ensure that her daughter completes her formal education. Amen.



See original photo here.


Sunday, May 11, 2008

I hate you , but I wanna touch you!

The infamous Indian caste system has brought us enough ignominy which we could have done without. This caste system had leaded us to ostracize and to brand certain members of our society as untouchables. This has confined them, till this day, to the fringes of the social order, especially in rural and semi-urban areas. But yet, I wonder why we keep hearing about cases of Dalit women being raped by ‘upper caste men’? If these ‘upper caste’ people do not even want the shadows of a Dalit to fall on them, what gets them to the point of forcefully having intercourse with a Dalit woman? Does that happen without touching the woman? Doesn’t this type of physical contact ‘contaminate’ those ‘upper caste’ rapists? When I would read about such cases, this question would pop up in my head like those irritating pop-ups which keep hampering our web-surfing activities. But I was reminded of a song that I had heard a few years ago. Someone had come out with this unimpressive and incomprehensive song whose lyrics went like “Mallika, I hate you, I hate you. But I wanna touch you, but I wanna touch you.” Those lyrics simply went over my head at that time but I never imagined that they would help me understand a social issue which continues to irritate and infuriate me. The acts of rape and abuse are a way of asserting that the rapist is superior to the victim and therefore more powerful whereas the victim cannot save herself/himself and hence is powerless, inferior. These acts just help the villain to reassure his own insecurities and to feel better about himself. The hatred towards the victim helps to justify the act of rape saying that she deserved it, whereas the rapist also finds an outlet for suppressed sexual desires. The lower caste tag makes this justification easier. Convenient isn’t it?

Friday, May 2, 2008

Communication and confusion

Our class 9 English professor Madam Gonzalez had arrived in Thane for the first time. She was hunting for a house. She was told about a flat in K. Villa. She reached the place with her son and asked a neighborhood shopkeeper for the owner of that place.

Shopkeeper replied, “Aap unse nahi mil payenge, who aadmi Gujarat gaya hai.”

On hearing this Madam Gonzalez demanded, “Thik hai, woh vapas kab aaye ga? Hume unka ghar kiraye pe chahiye.”

The shopkeeper looked scandalized. He shopkeeper responded, Madam aap kaisi baat kar rahi ho? Aadmi Gujarat gaya hai. Aadmi Gujarat jaane ke baad vapas kaisa aaye ga?”

It was Madam’s turn to be scandalized. She answered, “Kyun vapas nahi aaye gaa? Uska ghar hai idhar! Thik hai, agar woh vapas nahi aane waala toh koi contact number hoga naa uska. Hume usse baat karni hai.”

The shopkeeper was perplexed.

He retorted, “Aap samajhti nahi hai kya? Idhar ghar hai toh kya hua? Gujarat jaane ke baad koi aadmi vapas nahi aata.”

Madam was about to snap back at him when her son interrupted, “Mamma, he did not say ‘Gujarat’ gaaya, he said ‘Gujar’ gaya.”

She narrated this incidence in class while she was teaching us the importance of accurate pronunciation and active listening.

Thursday, May 1, 2008

Royally Obsessed

Circa 1949 We, the nation of India accepted and decided to be a SOVEREIGN SOCIALIST SECULAR DEMOCRATIC REPUBLIC when we adopted our constitution on 26th of November, 1949. The Iron man of India, Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel spent a good amount of his time knowledge and astute statesmanship to unify India as we know it today by convincing a hoard of princely states to blend in and give up their titles.


Circa 2008 The Board of Control for Cricket in India launches the Indian Premier League, the biggest and most spectacular cricketing event in cricketing history. The team names were announced and I couldn't help but notice that they were just reeking of monarchy. 8 teams announced and 4 were indisputably monarchical in nomenclature. The Bangalore Royal Challengers, Rajasthan Royals, Chennai Super Kings and King's XI Punjab. The last two being the most ludicrous. The name Chennai Super Kings immediately suggests that every member of the team is a King. I just couldn't help but wonder how can 11 Kings peacefully co-exist on the same turf? The Wadia & Zinta owned team is even sillier. King's XI Punjab! Pray, tell me, which king rules Punjab? Is the Indian Government listening? Just kidding!!! Vijay Mallya's team's name is comprehensible as it is a brand promotion and reinforcement exercise. Smart way to get around the juvenile legislation that prohibits liquor advertisements. The Rajasthan Royals clearly draw a reference to the former Royal family of Jaipur which still own palaces in Rajasthan. We simply can't give up our fascination for monarchy. However, the funniest and silliest title is undoubtedly that of Shah Rukh Khan and Juhi Chawla's (yes Juhi also) Kolkata Knight Riders. Knights existed in Medieval Europe, never in India! And most definitely, no Knights in Kolkata! Then why Knight Riders? I guess it's still a long time before we become passionate about Democracy just as much as the Americans and the French but I am not complaining.

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An infectiously enthusiastic incorrigible optimist, insanely in love with and morbidly curious about life, death and everything in between.