Unknown Identity

My alarm starts beeping, confirms that it is 6 in the morning although one cannot make out just by looking at the sky. It was still dark. The thick grumbling dark clouds made it appear ever darker. I crashed myself in the bean-bag I placed in my balcony. The cool silent breeze somehow made my balcony more of a comfort zone than my whole flat. And it was matter of seconds before the downpour started. I kind of loved it when it rained and I positioned myself comfortable in the balcony. Just staring at the rain drops, the rustling noise they make, somehow they place me at ease. The rampant rain crashing on the nearby banyan tree and the leaves struggling every time to recover. The little sprinkles reaching out to my hand leaving behind a refreshing sting in my body. Maybe it was the cologne of the rain which mesmerised me.

I stayed stupefied, like an onyx, refusing to bounce back to my sullen universe. Half-heartedly, I left my posture only to get ready for the day at my niggling job.

By the time I left my apartment, the downpour had come to halt. On arrival at my office, I headed straight to my cubicle. The office always seemed like a dormitory turned into cubicle-hive. A constant clatter of keyboard was audible in the entire office. Sometimes I wondered if this sound was significant in the adjacent floors too. My table awaited 3 new files and 2 from the unfinished business from the last week.

There was time, when I used to be elated about my job. 2 years ago, it was like stepping into a whole new aspect of life. Maybe part of it was due to the fact that straight out of college I got myself placed in a company, which I would not consider totally in my domain. Actually, ‘Tech-soft’ being the only company visiting the campus. So, I preferred something over nothing. Gradually I was frayed by this job. My work kept on gnawing me on my insides. It was like I was prepared for some other task, and in the haste of situation I just opted for this job. Any software guy would have loved this desk job, but for me this job was devouring me.

By the lunch time, there was news in the office. The company had suffered a major setback in the profits and the management had decided to ‘redesign’ their staff structure. So, it kind of meant that the employees were about to be chastised, either monetary cut outs, or expulsion from their current stature i.e. ‘fired’. The tensed look on the face of each employee was evident. All the cubicle-resident-foreheads were marked “Will I make it”? Probably some of them had already started brushing up their resume.

For me it was more like ‘Ok, someone just let me know when the list is out’. And honestly, this was the first time in my job span of 2 years that I really didn’t care if I was in a green or red zone. My performance reviews were decent, like tending to average. I was more than happy that I could achieve even that. The guy sitting in the cubicle next to me gave me a ‘Don’t you dare eat my job’ look.

I was rather happy about my weekend about to initiate plus a day’s leave for Monday which I took for the first time in 6 months. Vankush and Purab, my friends since school were arriving from Delhi. We were planning an excursion and finally were able to imply it out of our phones. I was filled with gusto as finally it was time for me to sneak out of my lame schedule and office work.

Weekend days passed in no time as they kept on filling their Mumbai Dairies. Monday called for Lonavala and adjacent areas. We decided it to be a road trip. As soon as you hire a car and hit the road, there is a strange feeling of ‘exemption of any kind of obligations’. You surrender yourself to nature at times, and allow her to charm you in the best way she can.

The day kick started at Khandala, where the scenic beauty seemed picturesque. The lush green vantage point to the valley was something which leaves you almost stunned and spell-bound. Then we spear headed to Bushi Dam and water falls. The scaling of the heights till the top of waterfall was something which made our day. Finally we reached Tiger point. It was around late after-noon when we were visually treated by the magical view of the cliff top with a sheer drop of over 650 m.

At Tiger point, there is a bulwark of height around 4 ft tall and railings at around every 1 feet of its total height. Purab was showing his ‘snap-skills’ as I and Vankush hit the railing for poses. Suddenly we noticed a kid, nearly 4 year old, crossed the rails and reaching out for his balloon which got carried away. Few steps more and his identity would be subjected only to surreal world. His parents were nowhere identifiable in the near vicinity. Vankush and I rushed, crossed the fence and grabbed the kid’s hands as he was merely 2-3 steps away from an unimaginable fate. The sudden motion of ours drew attention of the nearby public and the parents of the kid too, who were probably till now occupied capturing their perfect picture. The parents of the kids rushed to us, his mother grabbed her child and his father came to us to thank for saving his kid. More of it seemed as if a filmy scene, with crowd gathered with indistinct inane conversation.

The crowd dispersed too quite soon and we three were left with the kid and his parents. Both of them were filled with gratitude and they requested us to join them for lunch.

We entered a restaurant, which seemed more like a garden estate. At the entrance was a pergola, beautifully decorated, which extended approximately till 20m, leading us to the inner restaurant area. The ambiance couldn’t have been better. Neither too clumsy, nor too isolated; amidst the lovely garden were placed the tables. We placed ourselves comfortably. Although formal identity had already been exchanged, this time we were going over it again with better details. They introduced themselves as Naina and Suchit Bansal, both working with Tech-trix India Pvt. Ltd. While Purab and Vankush were introducing themselves better, I excused myself to attend a call from my office colleague.

‘Yeah bro, it’s official. 18 of us have no more jobs’, said Sanket from the other side of the call.

It was disappointing to hear that. But still I was hoping for the other news to follow else he wouldn’t have called only.

‘Both of us have lost it yaar’, said a sulky Sanket. I could have guessed it from the moment he called. His telephonic demeanour was a clear indication of this news. I was yet to figure out whether it was good or bad. I felt kind of neutral on this news. Maybe because I was having a brilliant jaunt with my friends, or because I no longer wished to be with my ugly job and I needed this termination push as I couldn’t had done it on my own.

‘Shit man. That’s terrible news’, I said. I didn’t want him to feel alone in his ‘job-lost-moment’. I was like ‘we are in the same mud pool together’.

‘Now what, planned anything?’, I continued.

‘Don’t know. I applied several companies recently. I’ll wait till they confirm. What other choice do I have?’ said Sanket and I realised that I am alone in the mud pool.

‘Listen, let’s meet tomorrow and we’ll figure out what next to do’, said Sanket in a slight reassuring tone yet gloomy.

‘Sure. I’ll call you’, I affirmed.

I went back dejected to the table where rest of the guys had reached an informal level of conversation.

‘So, what field are you in’, asked Suchit as he pointed towards me.

‘I am……actually ‘was’ working with Tech-soft’, I replied. Probably still figuring out what it actually meant to me.

I mean, it was a decent job, at least was sufficient enough to pay-off my bills, getting me off my edu-loan. Yes, parents were happy enough to describe me as a good 6 digit salary owner. So from where terms like ‘dullness’ and ‘job-satisfaction’ were coming? Was I being too sentimental or flecky about this? I mean, there were times when I was feeling good about my job, but for now the feeling has vanished. Like if I’m told that I have to be there for the next year or so, then I might think of it. But continuing on the same for an indefinite period was kind of out of scope.

Vankush and Purab were still looking at me at what I just said in a striking manner.

‘What do you mean by “was”’, asked a shocked Purab.

‘I…umm…just got a call from office. And I got fired.’ I tried to maintain a calm composure. There was a lot going in my head and even I didn’t know how to react and how I maintained myself at such ease.

‘Are you kidding or what? How come all of sudden’, asked Vankush in a horribly terrified manner. I guess he was more tensed than me like he lost a job. I should have had at-least half of his expressions.

‘This was not all of sudden. There was a buzz in the office from a week now. It had to be. There were other guys too’, I tried assuring them that I was not the only victim.

This followed an abrupt silence at the table. I guess they weren’t prepared for such a surprise on an outing. Neither was I.

‘Maybe we could be of some help’, intervened Naina. ‘Our company will be hiring the next week. Just send us your resume and we’ll recommend it straight’, she said like she just got an opportunity to get off the debt.

‘Really! Could you? I mean it would be great’, said Vankush much more relieved now. As if he just got relieved from a lump-sum loan.

‘It’s really kind of you to say that, but I actually I don’t want to’, I replied. Both of my friends looked at me as if I just rejected to encash a lottery ticket worth 1 crore. I could see the fork in their hands were about to turn violent at my words.

‘Please don’t think of it otherwise. I mean it would be absolute pleasure for us to help you out’, Suchit tried to convince me for the offer.

So within 5 minutes, I got fired from a job and was being offered another one, hopefully better. I kinda pinched myself, hoping that it ain’t a movie or a dream. To my utter relief, it wasn’t. Everyone on the table was just waiting for the nodding yes from me.

‘I thank both of you for the offer, but I choose to decline’, I said and paused a little. Fortunately none of my friends stabbed me.

‘Look, this whole graduation time I was prepared for a different field and mostly because of lack of companies visiting our campus, I choose Tech-soft. I have been in this field for now approximately 2 years and this job has me totally consumed by now. My last company or yours, I won’t be at ease at this kind of job. Only thing that will change is my cubicle. Actually I disgust myself with my current position. Neither I’m an efficient guy as I used to be 2 years back in my own sphere nor I could find myself at ease with the software industry. I feel like an orphan who has no place to live with peace of mind’, I said trying to defend my point to the mere audience I had. Purab and Bansal Couple were looking a bit convinced. However I was not so sure about Vankush. He looked as if I just discovered a treasure and was willing it to surrender it over to the government.

‘I don’t want to refuse the job offer but I also don’t want to commit to job which doesn’t seem to be in my domain. More than the company, I feel to be cheating myself’, I continued.

For the remaining time, we avoided this topic. I hope that they would know what I meant, although I wasn’t so sure about Vankush. I knew he would latch on this once the eating session is over.

Around evening, we dispersed. Suchit and I exchanged our contacts in case I change my decision. I really felt thankful to them for their generous help.

It’s about a month now since that evening. I have been visiting several companies of my domain, but with my kind of mixed-up resume, their response doesn’t feel solacing. My bank account keeps getting slimmer as each day passes. Sometimes, I feel I should have taken Suchit’s offer. At least that would have kept my money counter running in positive mode.

Time passes and now I’m almost broke. Last few days of struggling before I scale my distance up-to home back. Yet no luck. Then I see my phone ringing, the display says ‘SUCHIT’. I raise my brow a bit. Perhaps his offer still stands. Maybe his company is the only best option I have at ‘jobs’ as of now. Maybe I should have said ‘yes’ then only instead of my ‘garbage speech’ which I probably said for no reason. Nevertheless, I have the chance again.

‘Hey Suchit. It’s good to hear from you after a long time’, I greeted. I think no matter how desperate you are for your job; it would have been way worse if the conversation started with yes-I-accept-your-job.

 ‘Hi….how are things? Got any good job?’ asked Suchit. Believe it, those words stung me.

‘Actually, still struggling with my luck’, I replied with a bit disappointment. Unfortunately I couldn’t resist the tone even if I wish to do so.

‘So, listen. A friend of mine actually is hiring new guys straight out of college for a good firm, the same as you were wishing that day. It’s a perfect job that would suit you. But they won’t….’ continued Suchit.

‘Yes, I will do it. No matter what’, I interrupted him amidst his words.

‘Aree …they won’t pay you half what you were getting’, he tried putting a caution statement.

‘Do you really think it would matter! It’s the only chance that I could get into my sphere. I don’t hope all of a sudden to rise to the top level given my abilities might not be up-to the mark’, I gasped as I skipped a breath. That day I might have accepted the software job too, if he would had offered. And there he was offering me something that lodged for more than 2 months.

‘I don’t know how to thank you for considering me for the given situation. Maybe months back, I couldn’t have realised what would it take to move from one sector to another but now that I have been through all of it I know how much it matters to me now. Seriously, if today had you offered me a software job, can’t say for sure but there are chances that I might have accepted that too. No matter how I was sounding so stiff about going into my own sphere that day but ‘time and money’, these break you down. In desperate times, it’s such that we overlook the source of the money, being satisfied from the job is the long gone option. And now when you are giving me the opportunity to hold both ends of the wire, maybe, not so firm but still it would be one shot to what I wish’, I exaggerated. It was not me speaking this much, it was the 2 month store-house which erupted. I wished to continue more but realised that Suchit had not to bear it all. So, I kind of wished to spare him, after all he was going to give me the ‘job-I-need’.

After the call I placed myself again in the bean-bag in my balcony. It was evening and the clouds were egressing out of zenith, rumbling in full pitch. I waited for the rains, placed comfortably in my balcony. An aspect of life, forgotten in the recent past, was ready to be re-visited again. Hope this time it would be better than the one I started 2 years ago. That was the moment when the whole tenure of 2 years swept past my thoughts in patches. From the day I opted for the software industry to the day I day I got tormented by it. From the moment I was entering the hall for my job interview to the moments when the companies shut their door onto my face. There was a strange lump in my throat, felt like crying reminding all of the past. A tear dwelled up in my eyes. Wasn’t sure it was because of the past, or for the new horizons to discover. The tear was about to roll when rain started to pour. I lifted myself up from my bean-bag and stretched out of my balcony grills and let the tear be disguised in the form of heavenly-water. 

India and the Olympics

About last week my mom visited my Masi in Delhi, meanwhile I and my father had to stay back at home. One fine evening, my father was home early from office and said that we were invited over for dinner to Sinha Uncle’s home. Now normally a middle class boy has too many Sinha(s) and Sharma(s) in his mental note that, every time he hears those title, he goes ‘ This time which one!’ . Nevertheless they all are the approximately same to me. So, I didn’t care to ask.

Fortunately his home is ‘not-so-far’ from ours and I have been to ‘this’ Sinha uncle’s home a couple of times earlier too. Generally when I visit to ‘these uncles’, the time period gets divided in two halves. One when I pass time swapping my phone or adoring little kids and I ignore the inane conversation my father is having. The other half (the one in which I clamber), when I am asked “ Aur aj kal kya kar rhe ho beta? Koi form bhare ho kya?”  Now for a marine engineer, the courses he has to do, hardly go down his senses. So, imagine how erratic would it be convincing others!

This time, I, keeping my fingers crossed that I don’t have to revisit that obnoxious episode again.

Now, as one enters uncle’s home, these thoughts are momentarily side-lined after having glimpse of the beautiful garden area in his house on the left side of the gate. Freshly mown grass and patches of gravel stones making a beautiful pattern in the garden area. Adding to it on the boundary lines, 2 rows of plantations of flowers which looked lovely and as usual most of them I couldn’t recognise. I guess they were like ‘appreciate and move on’.

In the centre of the green grass blanket, were 2 chairs and a designer table giving it a ‘one customer only coffee shop’ look. My father and Sinha Uncle were the lucky customers of that ‘royal’ coffee shop. I went inside the house noticing, adorable 4 year old ‘Vibha’ staring at the TV as her favourite song was being played. I squeezed her cheeks and tickled her a bit but she was rather mesmerized by ‘Jacqueline Fernandez’. In the distant room I overheard aunty struggling with 11 year old’s projects. Went inside, bid a Namaste to aunty and hi-fi to Abhay. Aunty felt relieved to notice me and immediately handed over her load of project to me and rushed to kitchen for the preparations for the evening.

In a while she invited us for some snacks in the living room. I thought of swapping channels to get the Olympic updates. I noticed that ‘Dipa Karmakar’s’ story was being telecasted on the news channel. I held on a bit as I was joined by Aunty and Abhay too. After a while we noticed Vibha trying to copy the steps as she saw on the TV. She took her tiny hands up above her head and trying to jump, seemed immensely cute of her.

‘Look Ma, she wants to be a gymnast’, popped Abhay in between with a giggle on his face.

I asked Vibha, if she wanted to be like the girl in the TV, and she responded with a ‘4 teeth cute smile’ and a tiny nod.

And within minutes, Mrs. Sinha went into her deep thoughts with a constant glaze at the Television set.

‘No, no. Not a chance. See how much turns she is taking in air…..Way too risky’, she said as if popped out of a weird dream.

‘It takes years of practice, and everybody goes through training for all this. Not that all of a sudden one has to do it. I feel we can give it a try for her’, I interrupted her thoughts.

‘Then also, I don’t find it right. Don’t we have any other sport’, said aunty.

I could see that she is already way down to the Olympic galleria in her thoughts.

‘She can participate in swimming’, again Abhay shot another idea as if he was sitting with a list of games her sister will participate in future.

‘What! That is even weirder. At least in gymnastics, one is on ground, not under water. My daughter is not going in any of such game’, said an even more sacred Mrs. Sinha.

‘A bit of that game is in air too!’ I gabbled. Abhay was enjoying the horrific look on his mother’s face.

‘Maybe, we can try for races, you know. They are good, ‘on ground’, teased Abhay.

‘What type of game are these! Girls running around all over with short bum-chums’, mumbled Aunty, this time with a frownier face.

The sport selection criteria and their logics almost made me laugh. However, I controlled my emotions.

‘Maybe we can try for Table Tennis or Badminton’, I suggested.

‘Yes, that would be good’, said finally relaxed Aunty, as if she was about to say ‘Go beta, collect your medal. This game is certified safe.’ Maybe it was the 70s films which depicted them as safe and sane sport.

‘Did we get any medals today?’ asked Mr. Sinha as he and my father entered the room and the Olympic news was still being aired.

‘Dad, can we get Badminton or Gymnast classes for Vibha?’ Abhay asked innocently.

‘What! What is going on here? Don’t you have your project to complete? Go study’ growled Mr. Sinha angrily and as if all of a sudden his mood swung from bright sunny day to dark clouds, and that too within a matter of few seconds.

'All they need is one reason to skip their studies, sometimes dance lessons and now.. its gymnastics', chukled Mr. Sinha. And they again went into loops in their office talks.

Abhay with despondency rushed back to his room, aunty disappeared in the kitchen and the ‘idiot box’ was turned off leaving little Vibha nothing to stare on.

That was the moment I realised that in our country, it’s not our interest which acts as the governing factor but our parent’s. May be bitter, but still parents find that the cologne of success lies with academics only. Every 4 years we stick to the tele-sets, we expect that our country to be on top of every list in medal tally, better than rest all others. But how much do we promote it on an initial level? How much do we prioritise academics over sports?

Yes, it is a matter of misfortune and shame that our governmental infrastructure is not able to provide the best facility to the sports-person emerging. But we too are supressing them, that too at budding level. And then we expect that someone of 125 crore countrymen, would make us proud.

I guess, it is time when we must have to change our mentality, our thoughts to promote sports as equally as academics. Maybe, now it is time indeed, when we need to emerge out of the 'pre-and-post 10 days era of the Olymipc season'. Time to support more than 'likes & shares' of social media, at every level to our sports persons, so that they can proudly project sports as a career option, not merely part-time amusement. Then we might expect plethora of medals and champions from our proud contingent.

  

Foreigner in own country

‘Travel is the only thing you buy that makes you richer.’

                                                                                      -Anonymous.

My father has a transferable job and out of it, I get a chance of visiting

quite some places. Recently one of such places was Tumkur. Located in

the state of Karnataka, it is around 2 hrs drive from the city of

Bengaluru.

Truly said, the more we visit, more we come to know about the diversity

of the places in all aspects; culture, people and physical vividness.

Gradually we start adapting to the surroundings, the climate, the people

and add to it the accent of people. But adapting is no piece of cake and

peculiarly when it comes to language.

Reminds me of an incident, where every morning I went to milk parlour.

An old man sits there in his kingdom of packed milk bags. His homecum-

shop has a 4 feet boundary wall and a gate, which he generally

keeps shut, and he does his business from a 15cm X 10 cm box holed out

in his wall. Here comes the worst part for me; he neither knows English

nor Hindi.

Day 1: I asked him to get me 1 litre milk, the blue packet. The moment I

finished, the look on his face gave me a clear perception that my

language was from some other planet. Immediately I pointed him the

packet I wanted and he returned to me with it. I handed him the

hundred rupee note and then began the mayhem. He launched series of

‘Kannada’ arrows. Might be he was asking for change or some other

things if I wished to buy but it was totally out of my syllabus. And while I

was bombarded, I tried looking for help from any other customer nearby.

In return they gave me a, ‘Yes, you deserve this for not knowing

Kannnada’, look. In my defence, I tried convincing him that I don’t know

your language. God! He spoke like continuously for literally a minute.

And I, from freshly woke up went back to exhausted. I guess he also

realized that he had failed in being ‘Kannada Guru’, returned back with

left-over money and some candies.

I decided that I am not going without any shield in the battle field the

next day. I went to Google Translate. Learnt a few basic ‘Kannnada’ lines

which would be needed for my face off tomorrow. Now that was suicidal.

I said, “Ondu litar halu, nili pyaket” (yes, it is easy to learn simple

words). And what followed was a wave of his dialect going out of my

simple domain. I realised my blunder. This time his minute long speech

had phases, the optimistic phase where he thought I am getting what he

is saying, the frustrated phase where he knew his speaking is no more

good and the last one, the retarded phase when he left with “he is a damn

retard” look on his face.

For the coming day I had a policy; you see me as dumb, I will be dumb

for you and deaf as well. I took the exact change required, pointed him

the packets and handed over money. He spoke sometimes but of course

those words were of no meaning to me. So, me kicking off with another

language, I guess we weren’t synced. Apart from him, the other shops

were generally English/ Hindi friendly, luckily.

In ‘Tumkur’, what makes you fall in love with is the weather. The

wonderful breeze in evenings and slight cold at night, enough to pull

your blankets out. And add to it is the untimely drizzle of rain. Once

returning from a med shop I was stuck in such a down-pour. And when it

rains in our country, you will eventually find a ‘chai-shop’ in the vicinity.

I took shelter in one of the chains of ‘chaiwala Inc.’. Now chai stall is

such a magical place, where you can’t estimate the exact number of

people which can be accommodated. And find any chai stall across the

country, all the people will discuss is politics. I could make out the

intermittent BJPs, CONGRESSs and DMKs used in their conversations.

Amidst their aggressive conversation, I kept mum on one side. Probably

they grew suspicious, and one of them again asked me something which

to their disappointment I didn’t understand. I told them that I have no

idea of ‘Kannada’ and I am new to this place. And after that it was like

they left the territory of politics and I became the prime focus, the guy

from the other side of the same country.

Now, while in Tumkur, all the people will at once will recommend you to

first visit the ‘Siddaganga Mutt’. I said yes, I have already visited there.

So, then they began explaining about the history of that place. Then

someone started from the other side of the bench, that the Mutt has its

origins in 14th century. When Sree Haradanahalli Gosala Siddeshwara

handed over his headship of Mutt to next successor and with his 101

followers, went to hills for meditation. After a long time to quench the

thirst of one of his disciple, he hit one of the rocks and a stream of water

came out of it. The holy water was named ‘Sidda-ganga’. This water is

believed to have healing powers. Then I realised that now a days while

visiting places, we have restricted ourselves to selfies and pics only.

Then they latched to other places which I must consider visiting. The

Lakshmi Narshimha Swamy Temple, the local markets and some of the

local dishes, which were too volatile to skip my memory. But the best

part was the enthusiasm with which they were trying to explain me. It

kind of felt the same way we try to elaborate about the little part of India

we know about, to foreigners. Despite not being fluent in Hindi, they

tried to add up whatever they had to explain to me. I felt kind of thankful

for the effort they put in. Then I realised how vivid is our culture and

how small part of this vividity do we occupy.

“Travel makes you modest. You see what a tiny place you occupy in the

world.’’ 

                                                                                        - Gustav Flaubert

Expressions

How tough it is to express whatever you feel, without virtually considering other people’s reaction in our mind? Recently I came across several people with such dilemma. And if you ask me, it’s quite tough. Tough enough to laden your mind with ever ending thoughts. Recently I have been thinking what makes people go in such intense thoughts and subsequent fear.

Putting my thoughts into it, I came across a word called ‘Doxophobia – the fear of expressing one’s opinion’. Ever wondered, what would be inside the head of such a person; battling between a ‘yes’ and a ‘no’ or logical derivations ranging from ‘if’, ‘then’ and ‘but’. But what actually lies underneath this superficial fear? Probably a more deeply piled up fear.

Primarily I came across was the fear of being judged. ‘What people will think’ becomes a giant question for us. Probably reason for such fear is ‘isolation’ factor. People who have been side-lined or could never have been a  part of the big picture despite of their extreme efforts are very prone to it. They fear that the judgemental mentality of people will again isolate them, taking away again what took so much effort to assemble. The mere thought of ‘isolation’ shows entire glimpse of the past entrapped in void space. A part of us refuses to visit that past again, and again.

Another form of fear comes in form of ‘respect’. When we respect somebody, it’s hard to put forward a thought which the second person would be reluctant to understand or probably deny; as they expect us to go by their ideology. There may be another aspect of this. In this case we try to push ourselves off the limits to earn a fraction of respect we dedicate to them. We get over-cautious with our actions; focusing on 'what not to do' list to save the little earned respect and with the due passage of time we turn into a dull subject for the other person. The individual we respect most is the same we are most reluctant to lose. We wish to uplift our stature but we can’t put our current stature in jeopardy. Being at current position seems much affordable than risking it all. Taking risk gives us even chances but somehow it seems ‘odd against us’. That’s a big chasm we fear to jump and neglect to express.

The last phase of fear is where we are bound to obey, i.e. we don’t have an option to have an opinion; where we fear of the catastrophic results which may follow. Such scenario may arise in case of dependency or being helpless. Loss of job, basic amenities or not having luxury of other option fixates us in such fear.

No matter how much we deny, there exists a bit of fear inside us, may be in any form, which we face while expressing. And away from all these fear, all we seek is one individual who can understand what we need to express without even blinking, uttering even a word out. As if things don’t need to be explained to them. We seek one place of solace; a shoulder to lean on, where communication needs silence as a medium and we don’t need to explain things. Expression goes beyond the boundary of words. As if they must know that expressing has never been our best ground.

May be its way too hypothetical with the current scenario.

Tainted Ethics

Thursday

Brijmohan Das, 78, a retired professor of Geology, lying on his bed in ICU, unconscious, at least what doctors believed. Unfortunately he was unable to move; but somehow he was connected through his sub- consciousness to the outside galleria of his family and doctors; and wondering how trying to pull up the cords of his family together but in the end, noticing all the beads had fallen apart and scattered. It was that time on the bed when he finally reviewed his life 50 years back.

All he could hear now was distant chats of the doctors, untimely wailing nurses, his younger son shouting at times and intermittent blips of the strange equipment bugged to him. Amidst this noise, he drifted to a time 5 decades ago.

He witness through all those years in a flash; birth of his children; Dheeraj, anita and bhaskar,their jobs and marriage, death of his lovely Wife, feuds between his two daughter-in-law over petty issues and his consoling solution for them, his sons becoming puppets of their ‘Missus’.

He tried everything to balance things out between the two sons and their ladies but they remained on edge of the tight rope as ever. Taking care of their parents was getting a troublesome affair for their children. Elder son opted for caring of mother, while Brijmohan was in younger’s bag. Brijmohan smirked with a thought that how he took care of his kids in his only income and how the income house of 4 found it difficult to bear the caretaking of 2 old parents. He witnessed the partition of his “home” into “2 houses”. At that time, only thing he could think of was where he missed out on his sons caretaking that now he himself feels as an unwanted entity among them.

Mid way his memories, sound of his lovely daughter Anita brought him back to the present.

‘Since when is he unconscious?’ asked Anita.

‘About 2 days. Doctors said that as soon as he recovers he must be shifted to Delhi for better Medicare’, answered Bhaskar with a lost hope look on his face.

‘And where is bhaiya? Does he even know about it?’

‘ He must be knowing. We live in the same house. There is no need to print an invitation to invite him’, answered Bhaskar irritatingly.

‘Ah….you and your petty issues. Let me make a call.’ Anita said, putting an end to a pointless conversation.

Meanwhile in his thoughts, Brijmohan wondered, how simplified and tender was her daughter. She shared the same morals as taught to his two son by them, then how she glittered and the two remained dull. Maybe he knew the answers within but reluctant to believe.

‘He said it’s normal for father and kept on insisting that he will be okay without even knowing the scenario’ , said Anita with a surprised look on her face.

‘This was a kind of response I was expecting’, Bhaskar said with a grimace.

‘He said he would be visiting as soon as he gets time’, Anita said still trying to find hope with her elder brother.

‘I know he won’t show up. Father is my responsibility, so he doesn’t want anyhow to be attached to this scene’, said Bhaskar initiating the blame game.

‘Could you just shut up for some time and keep aside your complaints’ yelled Anita to his younger brother.

Friday

Brijmohan came to senses the coming day, more of delighted to see his daughter standing by his side, wished to speak many words, but was restricted by his weakness. Anita tried her level best to improve her father’s condition, in order to shift him to Delhi, but the doctors didn’t see any positive signs. They suggested that it would be better to take him to Delhi in the given time they have as keeping him over there only won’t bless him with more days to live.

‘I think we must start now only. Even the doctors here have surrendered. I can’t afford to leave him here’, said a disappointed Anita.

‘I suggest we let him stay here. Why causing him trouble for such a long journey. Let him have peace in his last days’, popped Bhaskar with his ideas.

‘Are you insane? How could you even think of this? Taking away even the slightest of chance of keeping him alive’ ‘said Anita with a furious flare in her eyes against his brother.

‘I am just saying that his chances of survival on the journey is minimal’, Bhaskar said, still defending his point.

‘And even less are the chances with these hopeless doctors’. ‘See, if you don’t wish to co-operate, I’m doing this on my own. Afterwards you can play your shitty blame-game on me but now, we are taking whatever limited chances we have’, said Anita with a strange firmness in her tone.

The strength Anita possessed at that time made Bhaskar nod to her decision; as anyone would have done given the strict dialect she possessed.

Dheeraj was also informed about this, and as expected he said he will be there asap. He asked not to take his father anywhere till he arrived.

Tanvi, Bhaskar’s wife, sensed the moment. She slid a blank paper in his husband’s hand and asked him to get thumb impression of her father-in-law. Bhaskar knew that his father would not do any such given the ignorance he has shown in the past few weeks towards him. So he decided to ask his elder sister to get it done.

‘Don’t you have an inch of shame in stock within you? Shamelessly asking me to do such cheap things’ said Anita, slamming away Bhaskar’s demands.

‘But I just thought,’ continued Bhaskar in a liquefied tone.

‘I plead you, don’t do such things. Anyhow these things are going to be yours. Why do you need the official confirmation?’ Anita broke down  and sobbed as she said these words thinking how drastically things have worsened.

They waited for Dheeraj to show up till Anita’s patience lasted. They left for Delhi without seeking his approval.

Dheeraj, knowing that they had left without seeking his opinion, was more infuriated than ever.


Post reaching Delhi, under treatment, Brijmohan survived for another couple of days till he departed for heavenly abode.

Left all aside was a daughter, kept on crying the whole day by his father. Two sons, tainted in greedy ideas and their own cobwebs, who forgot their duties as sons, and a soul, departed away, finally opting a balanced pathway.

It was the stinging fact, that the ethics and values he imparted to his sons were superseded by minds of their mistress and passive greed, stung more viciously than the disease within.

Perspective

Lucknow

10^th Board results were out. Ayush was delighted, as he must be; topped school with exceedingly outstanding marks. Now was the perfect time to remind Mum and dad about the unsettled promises they had made. Best were the days when dad drove to the Pizza Corner; today was one of those.

Ayush sensed that no time would be better for his due iPhone what Dad had offered him as ‘bribe’ for ‘to-be-a school-topper’.

­­Ayush: “Don’t forget dad, the new iPhone has already been launched.”

Dad: “Not at all son. First thing Friday morning you’ll have it”

Ayush (excitingly):"Thanks dad. This is the best gift ever."

Dr. Sharma was bit worried regarding what his son would opt as future stream, engineering or medical. A family of 2 doctors was willing to welcome their son as a newest member to the doctor cadre. But being progressive parents, they had to agree with whichever stream Ayush opts. Still a part of him was tilted more to one side.

Dad: “Thought something? Which side you are going to roll?”

Ayush: “Engineering is the way for me dad. At least this much I have made out by now.”

Dad: “Are you sure? I mean medical can be a very good choice too.”

Ayush: “Nah dad. I have thought over it. Actually I have something to tell. I have applied for the JEE classes in delhi. They are conducting their entrance test next week. Kind of the best institute for JEE preparation."

Dad (surprisingly): “Oh! That came out of nowhere. You have already made up your mind”.

Ayush: “It’s not like that dad. Do you even remember last time when we talked this much”?

Dad: “Actually I’m glad that you have come up to this by yourself. But you must have similar option over here too, isn’t it? Have you thought over it?”

Ayush: “Yeah dad, they do have a branch over here too. But the one in Delhi is better. As it is, they are charging around 1.25 lakh for the course at either place. So I think Delhi is more suitable.”

Dad: “No Ayush, it’s not about the money. It’s just that…… Umm……Nothing……Let it be. When you have to go Delhi?”

Ayush: “Test centre is here only. After admission I’ll have to go by next month. I’ll tell you the dates dad.”

Dad: “Yeah. I’ll arrange for your tickets.”

Ayush: “That will do dad. Thanks”.

Ayush got admitted in JEE classes; a premiere institute for Engineering entrance examination preparation. They had a core of leading teachers for every subject and detailed analysis based preparation for their students. Ayush started to enjoy the way he was being taught there. He kept on preparing hard; his fingers crossed seeking admission in the top engineering college in India.

Gaya, Bihar

Lalit was ecstatic. He featured in the news column of the hindi daily. ”Shop-caretaker’s son is the district topper”. He was the new celebrity of the locality. More than wishes, he was filled with advices. His mathematics teacher, Dubey Ji, called him up. Although he had nothing to do with Lalit getting full score in the subject, yet he considered himself the coxswain behind his feat.

Lalit had nothing planned up for the time coming ahead. He had heard of the JEE preparations and all; but had nothing stored up for them yet. For the time being, his mind was over-contented with the vibes of his achievement; till he reached Dubey ji’s residence.

Dubey Ji: “Became a hero, eh”?

Lalit(giggling): “No sir, nothing like that”.

Dubey Ji: “So hero, what next? Delhi or Kota?”

Lalit was baffled to the question and didn’t how what to respond to it.

Dubey Ji: “ Aree bhai, you are going for engineering side, isn’t it? So, where you have planned to move”?

Lalit: “ Not thought over it yet sir.”

Dubey ji: “So when will you? When all the admission for all the institutes are over, then?”

Lalit: “When will the admission commence?”

Dubey Ji: “Forms are already in the market. I’ll tell Prakash to get one for you.”

Lalit: “Sir I have heard that these courses cost about 2 lakhs a year or such?”

Dubey Ji: “As far as I know at least that much you have to pay. It is like 1.25 lakhs + other expenses.”

Lalit: “Ok sir. I will arrange some money for the form. I will have to leave now. Mother asked me to be back by dawn.”

Lalit had now almost forgotten his achievement ecstasy; replaced with 3 words: ‘Delhi’, ‘Kota’ & ‘2 lakhs’. He couldn’t deviate his mind off these words from his thoughts throughout his walk to home. In the scenario where the imagination of such a huge sum was par from sight; the thought that, if arranged, that much amount to be put on only his expenditure was smothering. These thoughts continued to toss inside his head till it was dinner time.

Ma had also made a bowl of pudding for him; which she makes on account of special occasions just for him.

His parents were able to make out that there was some angst within his mind. His lost face was a clear proof of the suspicion. Father decided to break the silence and dig into the matter.

Father: “What happened? You should be cheerful today. After all you have passed matric with first division.”

Lalit: “No, no. I’m really very happy.”

Father: “But you look tensed. What’s the matter?”

Lalit: “Earlier today I met Dubey ji. He told me about these preparatory classes for JEE in Delhi and Kota. He suggests me that I should apply for them. But…”

Father: “But!?”

Lalit: “You know papa, it takes around 2 lakhs per year of expenditure.

There was a moment of uneasy pause in the room. Lalit waited for his father to respond, given the extra-large size of money he just uttered from his mouth. Lalit’s father knew that almost this much amount of money is needed for these institutes as he had heard from his Seth. He also knew that he was in no condition to afford that. Now only thing he could rely upon was the understanding ability of his son.

Father: “See son, you know that neither your family is in order to assist you with such heavy amount nor my 10000 rupee salary is. I may try my best but still I don’t think it would be sufficient even to sum up 1 lakh.”

Lalit knew exactly what his father meant. And in some ways he knew this. He also knew the financial situation of his family and in some ways he also disapproved himself going for such courses.

Father: “Beta, I can try arranging as much as possible but honestly, I don’t think I could be able to avail such huge sum.”

Lalit: “That won’t be needed papa. I have thought of staying here only. At this point of time, I don’t know how will I achieve, but I will.”

Father: “And I will make sure that I can get you the best resources possible from my extent.”

Lalit went along preparing in his hometown only. He got some assistance form his local teachers. He became more of an opportunist. Pleaded seniors to teach him a topic or two. He used to borrow books from them for a week. As time progressed, he proceeded with more and more enthusiasm and dedication towards his goal.

JEE Results were out. Ayush qualified with an All India Rank of 527, while Lalit procured 6188^th rank. So, what went wrong with Lalit that he wasn’t able to match up with Ayush’s performance when both of them started nearly at same level? Was he less in talent or dedication? The answer is he was as talented as was Ayush and also put forward his best efforts to achieve his goal.

This contrast between the two can be understood by a simple logic. It is similar to a situation where you equip a solider with full armoury, put in front of a man with none and ask them to fight. It’s simply unjust. From this point of view it’s easy to think of the fair and unfair. Similar situation is faced by Lalit, where he is not equipped with the teaching aids what Ayush has got. So the competition is not based on talent, rather it’s the money being the deciding factor.

So what could be the solution?

Every individual participating must be on a same level in order to justify the term “equality”. But unfortunately that could not be done. So the term “Reservation” comes into existence but not on the basis of caste but on the basis of ‘financial condition’. The mention of a candidate’s caste is irrespective of the talent he possesses. It depends upon the facility and opportunity available for him to nurture and groom his talent. If Lalit was not able to get better rank, it’s because that he wasn’t subjected to better facilities for preparation. So, he wasn’t on balanced scales with Ayush. So, reservation on the basis of financial condition should be introduced until we can avail the minimum facilities; after which we can claim that yes, the scales are even now. Its time now, when ‘discrimination and reservation on the basis of caste’ to be stopped. Help the talented people to break free from their financial bondage and can share a common platform. Because at times, equality doesn’t mean justice.

The Indian Education System

Nanya, an 11 year old, sitting in his classroom, yawning as he looks indifferently towards the blackboard. Although disinterestedly, still tries to focus on the words babbling out of the teacher’s mouth. Class 7^th kid trying to resolve the atmospheric pressure mystery; yet too far from the finish line. Finally, the teacher puts an end to the students misery by putting up a public opinion if they have understood or not and a nod from the class assures him about his accomplishment in this topic. Nanya feels relieved as he finally got over with this class and his yawns.

 The word ‘understanding’ is deeply misunderstood in the context of Indian Education. Some co-relate it with ‘mugging up facts’, some merely with ‘solving some problems’, some assuming the facts ‘as if they are meant for it’ and the rest go with a nod. So where do these signs lead us to? Let’s peek inside.

Adding up spice to the whole, we have our schooling system. In Indian cities we have our very own “English Medium Schools” which strictly focus on the fact that the mode of communication in school premises is English. This brings me to a surprising thought if the schools in Russia or France or US have schooling in a language other than their mother tongue? It’s not that I am advocating the Hindi/Regional schooling methods and against the English Medium schools. Just take the kid Nanya’s mind-set for example. He is not extracting knowledge from the subject at all. What he is doing is continuously translating the words out from the teacher. So the focus is completely on translating rather than understanding. Whatever he understood in this meantime remains temporary. This creates a vast gap from knowledge.

Shifting from translation, we should cater towards understanding. It is a matter of fact that bilingual system has become a part of life. So, rather than sticking to strict English to teach, find a better way to encourage thinking and understanding from the basic level. If they just keep on translating, how can we expect them to come up with doubts, queries and most importantly, ideas. All we need to do is be more interactive and for a change try to focus on the fact that understanding should not be bound to “English”. Imagine a Russian kid being taught in Hindi. Weird enough, isn’t it? They are taught in Russian and not imposed a language which isn’t part of their day-to-day life. So for a change try explaining the facts regardless of language barriers; the one in which they don’t have to add up ‘translation’ as an added load. Then the term ‘understanding’ will have its aim fulfilled.

As far as an International language is concerned, have as much interactive sessions as possible which would groom their vocational skills but not on the expense of ‘concepts’ and ‘understanding’.