Nostalgic Departure

I haven't been active on my blog lately due a turmoil of events. Apology to all my fans (assuming I have some). Here is a personal piece written by me.

The sun had found its way under the ground. The streets were well lit by streetlights and headlights. Rickshaws, bikes, cars and trucks passed by, taking the liberty to honk at will. Few women carried their shopping bags and walked on what could somehow qualify as a footpath. A couple of boys walked pass, covered with mud. Shops were functional on the sides. The night was kept busy like always.

We all sat in the hall, occupying all the edges and corners. Some of them sat on the sofas and chairs while we youngsters sat on the floor. My dad’s whole family were gathered, casually reviving old memories. An air of nostalgia enveloped us. Each one was remembering and narrating anecdotes from their childhood in Madhurai.

My dad bunked school regularly to go to the movies. He had a small group who followed suit. His brothers were no less movie buffs. Once, my dad and his friends went for a movie when one of their dads came to his school. My dad’s brother told him that they had gone to some high-profile temple for some high-profile puja. He ran to find them and told them to maintain the same story. That reduced their punishment to a great intensity.

Once, someone from another colony had a small rift with my dad. His oldest brother went and bashed him up to the extent of landing him up in the hospital. There was no such thing as privacy in his store. They all were closely knit gang of bullies. But the entire store, even the neighbouring stores, were terrorised by my thatha. The ones who were attending nature’s call would neglect it and run away on hearing his cycle bell ring. It was almost as if he was some kind of Voldemort.

Once, the entire lot had come to Mumbai for my dad’s marriage. They were going somewhere by the local trains. At Dadar station, one of our relatives remembered that he wanted strings for his violin. So my dad told my other periappa to stand with the rest at a particular spot in the platform while he took the guy along with him to the shop nearby. He returned to find no sign of the gang at that spot. He asked his other relative to stay there and he went searching for them. After an hour passed by, he asked the railway authorities to make an announcement, summoning them to platform 6. My mama-thatha just caught the word “Ananthanarayanan”. Not having a grasp of the language, he assumed that something unfortunate happened. They all rushed to the platform and somehow reunited with my dad. Did I mention cell phones were just a dream back then?

We cousins had our own session of nostalgia as well. We discussed about the way we were as kids. In 3^rd standard, my teacher had told me that eagles fly at a height from the ground and we could spot it from tall buildings. My cousins, Aishwarya and Nandini, lived on the 17^th floor of their building, which was also near a dock. So I started with my eagle watching from their balcony. I stayed there for a week, religiously carrying out my eagle spotting every day. It grew on me as a fascination, which hasn't subdued yet. My cousins would join me at times. After I left, they started eagle spotting occasionally, producing its sound to lure it.

When I went to Madhurai for my vacations, I would meet my other cousins, Kritika, Srikanth, Suraj and Srinithi. Sometimes, the Mumbai cousins would join in too. We usually celebrated Diwali together. Srinithi, our youngest cousin (and the only one younger to me), would be horrified of the crackers. She would hide in her room, covering her ears and keeping the windows shut. Her parents would give her ears some extra protection too, while we all would burst crackers (guilty) together. It was great fun being with them all. We would always make fun of Srinithi. We all took it up as a challenge to get her out of the cocoon, but failed at it. We would play chor-police the whole day and the boys would always be the chor.

Suraj stayed in Mumbai till he was almost four. We both spent a lot of time together and there are photographic records to support the claim. Apparently he would hide all his toys in his closet, every time I went to visit him. Once, I did the same to him. Neither of us have memory of such actions; we just trust what the older folks say.

Nandini told us a story of when she was in Bengaluru with Aishwarya and Suraj. They were pestering her dad, so he told them that there was a pool to the end of the road. They left and took a tour of the whole area. After a while, they lost their way. Her dad realised that they weren't home and sent a search party for them. Aishu was a little big, so she faintly recollected the area and took them home along with her. Till date, they never found the pool.

Pati’s departure to the other world indeed got us closer to each other. We spent time knowing each other and also our nephew and nieces. The rituals were a waste of money and time. However, they worked in bringing us closer to each other. And we finally got to making our own Whatsapp group.

For reference:

Periappa - Dad's elder brother (Tamil)

chor - thief (Hindi)

thatha - Grandfather (Tamil)

pati - Grandmother (Tamil)

Mother's Day Special

Here is my tribute to my own mom on mother's day. My way of expressing love, as writing is what i do best.

Remember when you are in a shopping mall, checking out some interesting cookies and chocolates, when you realise you have lost your mother. A moment of total panic, isn’t it? You start looking around for your mother all over the place. At that moment when you find her, you are finally at peace with yourself. No nirvana can beat that feeling.

Maa, Amma, Mom, Mum, Ami…. They go by so many names, just like God.  Being a mother is one of the hardest jobs and I bow down to every woman handling it with such ease. I for one can’t even take care of a really disciplined cat for five minutes. Mothers take care of their kids all their lives. When a baby gets cranky and loud, it is returned to its mother. We all see how cute and adorable the baby is, only the mother knows what a pain it can be. Yet she loves it more than any one of us.

The ‘Maa’ sentiment is well exploited in Bollywood as well. Any Indian will know this one:
Mere paas gaadi hai, bangla hai,  paisa hai…tere paas kya hai ?

Mere paas Maa hai.

Mothers surpass every other luxury. Everything else means nothing in front of a mother’s love and encouragement. She is the one who will ensure that you grow and make a living for yourself. She will drive you to get the gaadis and banglas to yourself. We are totally lost without her. She is the one who know exactly what you need.

For me, my mom is my best friend. Not because I tell her everything, but because she will make my favourite food to cheer me up even if I don’t. Once we had a monsoon trek in school and it was disastrous. I was depressed for reasons I have no intention to reveal to you all. I hadn’t told my mom what made me sad either. We were supposed to go for a movie that night but I was not up to it. She forced me to come for it, and I am happy that she did. I had the best laugh and felt cheerful after the movie. Whenever I am sick or scared, a hug from mom makes me feel safe. The day I feel off-colour, coincidentally there will be my favourite bhindi fry for lunch. Whenever she goes shopping and finds something of my liking, she buys it for me. She will be more excited about the stuff than me. She once got a chocolate shampoo for me.

When I was in St.Mary’s School, some of my teachers were unfair to me for no reason. She even complained to my mom that I am very inactive and dumb. The truth was that she never gave me a chance to answer any question, even if my hand went shooting up in the air like Hermoine. She even punished me for really minute reasons. My mom believed me and knew that her daughter couldn’t lie. She went to the head-mistress and reported the issue immediately.

When I was 11-12, I used to write many poems. I had written one about friendship, and it was a big hit among the people I showed it to. My mom urged me to send the poem to Dr. A.P.J. Abdul Kalam. She googled his email address and made me send it. He replied to the mail in one line of appreciation. My mom went around flaunting it to everyone. Even now when I publish my blogs, she gets all her friends to read it.

In my early teens, I used to learn Bharatnatyam. We had an annual day program where all of us got 5-10 minutes of stage time to dance. My mother kept telling everyone that I will soon have my arangetrum. For those of you who don’t know, it is a milestone where you perform a series of dances (goes on for 3 hours or more). This is your first official performance, where you are acknowledged as an official dancer. Something like getting a graduation. I never really thought I could do it. To be mild, I wasn’t so good a dancer. I thought that my mom would be headed for a big disappointment. However, one year later, there I was giving my arangetrum. None of it would be possible without her. She pushed me to learn dance. She would be there to drop me and pick me up for practices at all odd hours and sometimes sit through the whole practice session. She would encourage me and my other co-dancers every time we were tired. She came with me to pick-up the saris and accessories, the photo-shoot and all the rehearsals. I owe it to her.

During my 11^th-12^th, when I was preparing for all those devilish entrance exams, my mom would ensure that I got all the books and material I wanted. Even now, she will ensure that I always have my pen-pencil and stationary. She wouldn’t let me leave to college without asking “Pass, Id, Paisa, Mobile sab liya na?” Every time I get nervous before and exam, she cools me down. And every time I have a bad paper, lo! My favourite food appears. She makes sure that I never go hungry and always eat my lunch and dinner. 

My mother is also an inspiration for me. She never lets the fact that she is not a man affect her independence. She is one of the few women who drives the car on her own rather than depending on dad. She is as involved in all the finances and decision making as much as my dad is. She works for social causes and also helps in running the society in her free time. She keeps herself up to date with all the happenings in the world. She is an example that a woman’s rule is not restricted to the kitchen.

Not all is rosy-posy as I have written though. Sometimes we fight like some world war. We don’t agree on a lot of things. Sometimes I am just a punching bag to vent her anger out. But it doesn’t mean I hate her or anything, I know that she just wants the best for me. In days of my childhood I have been lonely and with low self-esteem, she was the only one who always believed in me. No matter how old I grow, who I meet and how successful I become, I know that I am doomed without mom. I would like to thank my mom for everything. (Mom, if you are reading this, I expect some pulikachal soon :P).

A Dream; to Light a Tunnel

I came across a competition in 'Indiblogger' where we had to write about a good business idea. There has been an idea which has been going on in my mind and I take this opportunity as a motivator to write this blog, and also help organise the idea in my own head

India is a country where we worship Goddesses, yet behind the doors we abuse them. We idealise the ‘bharatiya nari’, a lady devoted to her husband. For her he is a God, and she must accept whatever he does. He may use canes and belts on her, but she submits to it because it is her fate. She does not believe that she deserves a life of dignity and freedom. Many such harassed women do not get out of the miserable life, and the reason for this is simple. They aren’t educated enough. If they run away from their house, where are they supposed to go? They are afraid to go out and face the world. The ones who do, get abducted into the world of shameful professions. They have no place to live nor are qualified for any jobs. Even low end jobs need some kind of degree. Hence, the husband and his family have no fear. They know that they can get away with treating her like dirt.

Many students, residing in hostels, are served half cooked or fully burnt meal. Some bachelors, living in p.gs and rented apartment survive on Maggi Noodles and other ready-to-eats. Young employees eat vadapavs and samosas for lunch, because that is the only available thing in the canteen. None of them have enough money to spare for a good cook or to eat out regularly. They all miss their mother’s food or any homely food.

These are two completely different problems, yet they both point out to the same solution. The two set of people I spoke about could share a symbiotic relation. These ‘bharatiya naris’ have been trained well to cook and take care of the house.  They have been taught well to serve. Maybe they are not educated, but they possess skills of their own. These women can be sent to the hostels and offices to make a good meal. They don’t have to be paid a lot, just enough for survival. We could start a hostel for them to live in. Some of them can work for luncheons and canteens which youngsters often turn to.

Starting a business like this is not the least easy. We will have to look up for good start-up money. Once we get that, we will have to keep in mind that the women in need of help will not reach out to us. They may not be aware of the institute, or even if they are, how to get in contact. Some will be simply afraid. We will need lots of volunteers to help us out. Surveys have to be conducted, and some unofficial spying too. We will also have to approach the companies in need of service and strike the right bargain with them.

For the money part, I will need some millionaire to back me up. I do have faith in humanity, so after some searching I am sure I will find someone. There are many rich people out there waiting to help the world with money; some for a clear conscience and some to boast about it to others. Nevertheless, making the best use of it, I want to do something noble for these women. We will also have to focus on collecting charity from common people. Little drops do make up the ocean after all.

We will need plenty of volunteers, and it is not an impossible task to get them. House wives could dedicate time to the cause and watch two less ‘saas-bahu’ serials. It will be a positive change for them too; many feel frustrated and worthless sitting at home. Some retired employees, who are good in health, can lend a hand too. Most important target will be the college goers. Most of them are dying to be of some use to humanity. They still have a pure heart and hope to change the world, an attitude that gets the job done faster and better. Some more students can be lured by the use of ‘certificates’.

For any business, records have to be maintained, that’s where ‘computers’ and the internet gets a role. Volunteers and workers will have to keep records of the situation in every house. Medical and security aid must also be organised from time to time. A data for each woman we help must be maintained too. Services of Microsoft Sky Drive will help maintain a collective data, instead of keeping separate records for each person. It can be updated from anywhere. Microsoft’s new Office 365 (www.office365.in ) would make the work easier for us, being one of the most convenient, user friendly and secured facility. Sometimes, neighbours of the victim would want to help. They will need a proper medium to get in touch with us. Social networking sites will be of great help here. Facebook, Twitter, Linked-in, Share-point are a few popular sites which can help get volunteers.

I really hope I can convert this idea into reality someday soon. It pains to see the helplessness of a female in this “advanced” society and I would want to change it. Being a girl myself, I can understand what many of them go through and how hard is it for them to live. I want us to fight for our respect and freedom, rather than live in the shadow of the devilish male dominant world.

The Oath of The Vayuputras - A Review

This is my first review, so don't be too harsh on the critic. You shall also find the same review on the new blog I work for - www.thesaltysardines.com

After ‘The Immortals of Meluha’ and ‘The Secret of the Nagas’, book lovers across the country have eagerly awaited Amish Tripathi’s ‘The Oath of The Vayuputras’. On reading the two books, many questions have been formulated in our minds. Decisions are yet to be taken and some paths are yet to be trotted upon. Amish Tripathi has promised to tie a knot to all loose ends in this book that completes the trilogy. Does he deliver as he says?

The Neelkanth is in search of the evil bothering the nation. In his quest, he joins hands with the Meluhans, the Swadeepans and the Nagas. These three races, which are known for their rivalry and enmity, put all differences aside and accept the different ways of life. The uptight and ‘true to their word’ Suryavanshis, and the passionate and follow their free will’ Chandravanshis mingle with each other and exchange their ideas to strengthen Shiva’s troop. The out casted Nagas also get accepted as mere humans who are good in intentions but left bitter by their own flaws. The Vasudevs lead Shiva in the quest of true evil, an evil that shocks everyone.

An evil which has always been there among them, unrecognized. An evil which has divided the races and caused hostility among people from the same mother land. It stirs chaos among families and loyalties are questioned. Love comes in between the goal, causing more complications and making it simpler. Some courageous characters fight still the last drop of blood, to protect their people and eradicate evil. Some give in to their cowardly vices and betray their cause. As a well-planned and organized war goes wrong, Shiva is left with just one option – The Vayuputras.

Amish Tripathi writes for the mind and the soul. While the philosophies stir the minds, the emotions touch the soul. He has portrayed different relations between characters well. Though Daksha wants to destroy Shiva, his protectiveness for his daughter Sati stops him from attacking the group. Bhagirath is constantly worried about his sister, Anandmayi and ensures that no harm falls upon her. Parvateshwar’s respect for Shiva is reciprocated well, though they choose different sides. Ganesh places trust on his younger brother, Karthik, to lead a fight.

Tripathi is an ace when it comes to description. The picturistic words used to describe intricate designs and architecture shows that he not only cares about the details, but savours it. The dialogues used are so powerful and thought incepting. He has given a scientific angle to many symbols and practices, which has some truth to it. Mythological elements are present in a different light. The parallelism drawn to the stories we have grown listening to is fascinating. One example I find very astonishing is how he explains about the plague in Branga, which could be related to a concentration of cancer cases in Bengal in a modern day world.

However, a lot more trees went down for this cause than should have. 600 pages were unnecessary; the story could have been shortened to 200-300 pages easily. At a point, the story just seemed to be dragged to no end. The details were too much; a little air of mystery could have been maintained. A story like this deserved a better ending than it got. I am not discouraging anyone from reading the book; you should read it anyway, especially if you have been bombarded with bed time stories on Shiva, Devi and Ganpati.

ACP Dhoble Is Just What Mumbai Needs

This is one of the topics in Speaktacular 2013, a debate competition organized by MS-TSEC. Being a part of the Club Team, a team mainly responsible for debates, literary events and quizzes(intellectual events), I was among the moderators. As I had to listen to them and take down notes, I decided to elaborate on some of the topics I personally liked.

He is one party pooper we all hate, don't we? Obviously there is a lot to speak against the topic. Yet it was the proposition who won this one(and they went on to be the winners of Speaktacular 2013).

This time I will start with the opposition. They started with a quote from Spider-Man - "With great power comes great responsibility." And Dhoble is a man with power but misuses it. He acts as an extra constitutional authority. He is a dementor who sucks the life out of a party. He is against night life and closed minded. In 1989, he was suspended from duty for accepting bribes, while he was posted in Pune. Also in 1994, he was sentenced 7 years in prison to have tortured one of the inmates, Abdul Gaffer Khan, to death. He was fined Rs 1 lack for the same. He was also responsible for replacing 12 dossiers related to Dawood  Ibharim. He is a man who himself has records against him.

Also he was blamed for the death of a hawker while raiding the streets of Santacruz(E). The hawker succumbed to cardiac arrest. He couldn't bear the hockey stick of Dhoble. His livelihood was in question. If not a street vendor, how will he feed his family? How will he put a roof under them? Agreed that it is illegal, but what other options do they have? 

Dhoble was compared to the likes of Saddam Hussain, Adolf Hitler and Muammar Gaddafi. He is inclined to tyranny and takes up responsibilities he shouldn't be. 

The media has shown light on his negatives, leaving his positives in a shadow. We judge him only on what the newschannels and papers tell us.

Let us not forget the raid in a so called spa in Powai. He rescued 7 girls who were forced into flesh trade. Isn't it one of his good doings? He saved innocent girls from a fate so horrendous. He also shut down illegal hubs and parties causing nuisance to the neighborhood. We all know that many of these public services have skeletons in their closet. Corruption has seeped into the blood of us Mumbaikars. For our own convenience, we turn a blind eye to wrongs. 

Recently, a fire erupted in a nightclub 'Kiss' in Santa Maria, Brazil. The nightclub served a regular hangout spot to the many students Santa Maria homed. The band performing in the club used some fireworks, which were to be used outdoor. They didn't have many exits. Many dies due to suffocation, some due to stampede. 300+ deaths were recorded. This could cause questioning to safety as Brazil is set to host the FIFA World Cup next year. The officials were blamed for this. The club's license had expired in August, the previous year. There were no proper exits for the victims to escape. Many harmless illegal activities put together fueled the fire.

Here we have someone who is actually trying to avoid the same in Mumbai. Someone who doesn't concede to corruption. And how do we react? By hating him. He is like a strict parent who just cares for our good. He has learnt a lesson from being suspended of accepting bribes. Once, my friend and I were walking down the road where we met a policeman. He told us how helpless they were against corruption. It's not bribes that tempt, it's the threat against their loved ones that compel them to turn their flashlights off to the happenings in the dark. And when someone stands up against fraud, we shun him instead of respecting him.

On the charges of the street hawker, he died of brain haemorrhage. He was externally untouched. It was an unfortunate incident, but not something you could blame Dhoble for. Congress MP Priya Dutt blamed him for the death, and we blindly believe her. She is not someone who has done great deeds to even be considered a say in the matter.

Good or bad, ACP Vasant Dhoble shall always create a stir with his loudness. But one must read the entire story before judging someone. 

Religion and Traditions Hold Us Back From A Fresh Perspective

This is one of the topics in Speaktacular 2013, a debate competition organized by MS-TSEC. Being a part of the Club Team, a team mainly responsible for debates, literary events and quizzes(intellectual events), I was among the moderators. As I had to listen to them and take down notes, I decided to elaborate on some of the topics I personally liked.

I liked the debate on this for one reason. I was for this statement, but the opposition were convincing enough for me to question my stance. 

The proposition started with how religion hold us back. We are so stubborn to the words written in our religion that we don't accept something new. Sexism is a major product of these preachings. Christians, Jews and Muslims believe that a man is supposed to protect his woman and the woman to serve him. They define the roles for both the sexes, hence leaving no freedom for us to decide our own fate. These religions are against homosexuality. Many gays and lesbians faced problems as severe as death for being that way. It was considered a sin. Premarital sex was another sin, so was masturbation, which is a seemingly harmless act. One can understand rape being a sin, but why the others? Nicolas Copernicus and Galelio Galeli faced death to go against religious facts. They were right on the astronomical discoveries yet termed as sinners. By the time we started accepting science, it was too late.

Following traditions blindly cause in a great waste of money. The same money can be put in charity instead. I know families that will spend lacks or even crores for their beloved daughter's wedding. I know that we all want to celebrate, but spending so much? In my family, during funerals, we feed a few Brahmins one time meal. Back then, Brahmins did service for free and this was like a way to repay them. But now they earn a fortune on human stupidity. Each one of them have a tummy of the size of a bear. They own such stylish bikes. Wouldn't you rather spend the money feeding the poor?

Religion is an obstruction to free will. We have to follow the so called word of God rather than write our own words. Religion is greatly unfair to women. In Saudi Arabia, we still have to hide under a burkha. The Kashmiri girls band was issued a Fatwa; they couldn't express their musical talents. Feminists were claimed to be witches and burnt to death. Sati and unfair treatment to widows is not justified. Polygamy was observed by men, but a lady doing the same is a disgrace. 

We know that jihad is another ill effect of religion. Many Kasabs were picked on from the streets of Pakistan and Afghanistan. They were told to kill and sacrifice in the name of God. Which God would want such worthless sacrifices? How is this any different from diabolism? Kasab and many others could have grown to achieve great heights in life. With the loyalty to the cause they showed, they could have made Pakistan proud, if well educated. The country would have come out of the great mess it is in. But they rather increased the mess by indulging in terrorism. Brain washed that it is the right thing to do, they had no chance of living a life every human has the right to.

But one man's poison is another man's food. Again it's you who make the choices. The opposition started the argument by saying how religion increases our morality. Like everything else, religion has also evolved over time. Due to Raja Ram Mohan Roy's interference, Sati and other unjust laws were abolished when its evils were brought out.

Great men like Martin Luther King and Mahatma Gandhi were inspired by religion and dharma. Gandhi followed the path of non violence and truth because it was his morals which made him so. Morals imbibed by religion! He led the country to a free today. He even tried to unite both Hindus and Muslims. Martin Luther King also believed in the word of Jesus that one must love their neighbors and enemies. Hence he adapted the method of non-violence. Religion influenced them to avoid bloodshed and follow an alternate path.

We have been taught about the great emperor Ashoka in our schools. He was blinded by power to conquer places. His anger was fierce. He killed around 500 men because they were disloyal. He even tortured women by putting them in harem. He fought a war to add the kingdom of Kalinga to his. He won the war but lost to his own conscience. He saw the amount of blood shed and felt remorse. It was Buddism, a religion, that changed him. Gave him a fresh perspective in life. He gave up on all the worldly desires and went on to be one of the greatest emperors and human we have ever seen. He popularized it amongst his subjects.

Religion and mythology have given us great heroes to worship. Even female ones like Durga Maa. Durga Maa's legend taught us that of having a penis is not a reason to not fight evil. Her display of courage is an example to all those women who are subjected to torture on a daily basis, those who live under the fear of being tainted every moment. Jesus Christ taught us to be persistent and put others before oneself. 

Coming to the point of terrorism, the opposition raised an excellent point. Terrorism is a result of bullying kids to follow falsely interpreted religious prophecy. Rumour has it that many like Kasab were threatened to embrace terrorism. Their families lived on a gun point. It was religion that gave them hope. Belief in Allah that makes them all believe that a better tomorrow will arrive.

Religion plays an important role in our lives, whether we like it or not. To take the best out of it is in our disposition.