Saturday, August 11, 2012

Feasting on the Moral Fiber


Revathi is cooking a hurried lunch for the family as her 8 year old daughter struggles with the makeshift trolley they use to ferry water to their makeshift dwelling. Revathi works as a sweeper at an International Bank and her mandate is to flush the toilet once again after each user has flushed it. Wasting away her entire month’s water needs every day. She feels she has slapped her daughter each time she pressed the lever. The fact that she isn’t even worth a chair to the organization, for she sits on an inverted bucket, doesn’t rub it in as much as the water that pulls at her entire existence, ravaging and raping her mentally a thousand times a month. Shouldn’t she get used to it? She would as a person but not as a mother.
Saavant has had a difficult month. His mother has taken ill and his wife is nursing their newborn and cannot go to work. Tired as he was after the double shift, he gratefully took up the temporary job of serving drinks at a Charity Event for the night. The money was respectable and he would be given transportation. Little did he know that the bitterness he would bring back home with him that night is going to stay with him forever. The Scotch, the dresses, the food, he had seen before. What he hadn’t seen was incapacitated drunk men throwing away money at paintings in one-upmanship and calling it charity. Their claiming to be doing it for the needy almost made him throw up. Unknown to Saavant, these experiences are taking down his moral structure one brick at a time.
It is not the affluence of others that affects a person of a decent enough moral fiber, it is the vulgarity with which at times some of the fortunate ones treat the less privileged. Treating someone as non-existent is tolerable, a folly but a tolerable one, as long as you do not spit in the space they occupy.
This disregard of sensitivities and ‘have it, flaunt it’ attitude can not only be catalytic to petty crimes like mugging but at times to more heinous crimes like murders, robberies and rapes.

Saturday, April 2, 2011

The Mother's Mother

The funeral’s over and most of the people have left. I see the closest ones alternating between laughs and sobs as they talk about the lost one but I don’t feel emotionally overwhelmed. I just feel empty…

Running top speed from one city to the other, just to feel empty? That’s weird. Has life really taken me so far away from my family? I don’t think so, I hope it isn’t so!

Its not the lack of love that’s making me feel empty, it’s the blandness of memories.

I keep searching for the moments hidden away, the moments that would hopefully let the feelings out but nothing, still nothing. Weird, considering that my fondest memories of childhood are from the place where I am sitting right now, the place my sister calls ‘the Nani Ghar’.

When I finally understand why, I can’t help but smile with amusement. Wondering how many people would be able to live like her. She was always there, in the background, enabling us have a time of our lives, never complaining, never demanding, just happy being the foundation around which her family flourished.

That selfless love will forever be missed…

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

The Drinker, the Trader and the Reckless Rider

Risks and the accompanied rushes have always had a history with the male fraternity. Be it the jungles of the Stone Age, the wars of the later eras or the more recent economic depressions and World Wars.

Traditionally, while the male had to go out and deal with all the shit that was hitting the fan, the women (and rightly so!) were left to manage the household, the relatively less risky and highly monotonous affair.

As thousands of years went by, this behavior took root in the basic persona of every male and female. Then another kind of shit hit the fan!

Today, the overly structured “professional” environs with all the processes in place where everybody knows their jobs (and is supposed to do them) has that one vital ingredient that suits the ladies but irritates the not-so-never-supposed-to-be-gentlemen – Monotony.

What now then?

Well, I see colleagues thrilled at making 5 grands at an IPO as it keeps them occupied, I see young kids racing down the road without helmets and who hasn’t had a few drinks to break the grind.

For me, I am trying to keep myself from the first, done a lot of the second and can be found indulging in the third.

~nashe mein kaun nahin hai ye batao zara…

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Sati Pratha and Karwa Chauth

Blessing bestowed upon a male in a Hindu religious ceremony…
Ayushmaanbhavah – May you live a long life.

Blessing bestowed upon a female…
Sada-suhagan-raho – May you never become a widow. Means: May you drop dead before your hubby.

Ayushmaanbhavah was never said to a female lest the blessing turns into a curse. The life of a widow in pre-20th century era (maybe even now in rural parts of India) can be summarized as:
Step 1: A bald headed life spent in the temple room worshipping Lord Krishna till accused of seducing a younger member of the clan who probably had abused her multiple times.
Step 2: Sent away to the pilgrimage in Varanasi which also happened to be a big brothel.

No wonder Sati Pratha found takers and no wonder it got abolished when the social scenarios changed. (Although I have personally come across villages where a widow has a broken down hut on the periphery of the village. The trucks parked outside add to the darkness engulfing their lives for 20 bucks or so.)

Context set, I hereby argue that Karva Chauth is nothing but an extension of the same social stigma. Scaring females to go through a day without even water (of course, some modifications have been made to suit the upwardly mobile career woman but the deal is still more or less the same) to pray for the long life of her husband.

It has been carefully camouflaged as the portrayal of love and dedication but that portrayal does not stand by the acid test of fairness and equality we so claim to believe in.

What else to say...
Oh yes, the wife hasn’t eaten all day. Gotta go and follow the process. Disagreements in beliefs take the back seat when it comes to fairness in love. Being starved tilts the decision in her favor. More importantly, it significantly reduces temper threshold! :P

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

God and his HR!

Lets assume God does exist and quota of prayer approval per day looks like this
1000 Easy Prayers (not missing the bus)
100 Medium Prayers (getting the call for the job interview)
10 Hard Prayers (getting the job!)
1 Impossible Prayer (a wife that doesn’t nag!)

Believers get the easy ones (retention cost).
Atheists get the miracle (conversion cost).
After all, God does love a following!

You decide!

Next time you are getting late to work, if you must must pray, ask for a hike :)

~this atheist is closer to the miracle :)

Sunday, June 27, 2010

Random Thoughts 2

Kalyug Kyun?

Because we do so many things exactly the way they shouldnt be done?

Office or home, the seniors/parents rather than reprimanding the insane ones, asking the saner and obedient ones to 'understand' and 'ignore' as they are intelligent enough to be able to do so.

Result 1: 20% people doing 80% of work!
Result 2: Life being unfair to especially these 20%.

Assuming a hit ratio of smartness as 20%, offices are still safer but for nuclear families with one child or two, the numbers just dont add up!

The Curse of Patience

Mumbaikars boast of being the calmer of the lot when it comes to traffic. I figured I had also become one after a while as there seems to be a limit to impatience in limitless traffic jams.

But rather than looking at Delhi as road-rageous even after superb roads and Mumbai as calmer even after the bumpy as hell roads (my back is all fucked up!), can it be the other way round?

Will roads be better if Mumbai started giving some shit to especially the BMC? Sadistic/perverse it might be, but can some nasty road rage cases create enough political momentum for smoother roads?

Note: its not about widening, its about not letting a 1m dia pothole cause a 10km jam.

Monday, June 14, 2010

Random Thoughts

FINDING PROXIES

Grenade on the right, gunfire from the left and voila, the sniper shot did me in.
I look at the killcam (shows how you were done for) and curse at the leisure with which the guy aimed and pulled the trigger.

Lesson: Don’t drink and drive.

A multi-player game score is a good proxy for what your behavior can be on the road. After all, in both cases, a split second is what matters. Rather, in the game you are at least monitoring your performance and trying to improve it.

On the road, you don’t respawn!


TWO MONTHS

And you have settled in the new house... and you are again missing your hometown.

And you have inducted yourself into the new job... and are still workless.

And you have met friends and relatives you hadn’t for long... thrice.

And you have the new connections for the phones, for the laptops and for the loo (ToI).

Two months… and the sounds again a monotone.