Interpreter of Maladies
Tuesday, May 31, 2005
Summer woesThe heat is killing in Delhi and even more so in Gurgaon. The area is so arid and parched that if you are out unluckily between 9 and 5 then you are bound to get hit by the heat. The heat has made my favorite things, impossible to do-shopping and driving. There is no relief, no matter where you go. The few bushes that HUDA has generously planted in the area provide none but comic relief. There is a single park by the name of LEISURE VALLEY which is heavily thronged by visitors on the weekday evenings and weekends-add to it the "love-to-eat" Delhi culture so mummy, papa, chunnu and munnu come with a huge picnic basket, the remnants of which are left behind as memoirs of their park visit. Huh...summers-when one becomes so cranky and tired and when all you want is to have a nap in the cool environs of an AC. Roadside thirst quenchers are life savers. The lemon soda bottles and the jaljeera might not look very hygienic but are more health friendly and fresh than the coke, pepsi junk people live on. Add to it the fresh sugarcane juice machines operating every 5 km or so. The remedy to beat the heat seems to be a nice swim but Gurgaon seems to lag behind in that department too. There are country clubs all around the city but their audacity is so huge that they charge a hefty fees for a puddle that they dare call a swimming pool. I am stunned by something else though. By the patience of the fruit sellers who sell watermelons and coconuts on the same hot, arid streets that I hate to even see during the day. By the hopeful eyes of the beggar who keeps on begging alms at the traffic signal no matter what time of the day. By the small gypsy children and women who sell pirated version of books, paraphernalia and what not running around cars, cutting prices by 50% every time you show a flicker of interest. This country can never cease to amaze anybody. With the extremities of weathers and geopolitical instabilities, it probably makes people tougher every day, every hour.
Wednesday, May 25, 2005
Thehra hua shaharkal shaam, rooth kar chahal pahal se; aas paas ki abo hawa ke ghulte hue zahar se
socha-ghar ki dehleez par baithein; apne shahar ki mitti se lipat kar saans lein
shahar badla nahi hai bilkul; hai wahi bheed, wahi rickshon ka jamawada
wahi platform par bekhauf kooda daalte log; wahi station par bana, gayon ki basar ka thikaana
lag raha hai kisi ne rok diya ho samay ki suiyon ko; ya fir khud hi, thithak gaya mera shahar
aate hain, jaate hain bashinde kayee; alvida kehta hai hamesha, ye thehra hua shahar
hawa mein wo ajeeb si bechain umas; bhookha sooraj jo ugalta hai dhoop ke gole
sadak pe daudti bason ke number; abhi bhi zubaani yaad hain mujhe
sadak ke aage, us gandi nahar mein, ab bhi nahate hain bacche
aur abhi bhi bijli kayee ghanton nahi aati hai
abhi bhi bazaar mein bikti hain nakli ghadiyaan, itr, joote
aur sankari galiyon se chalkar, sadkon ki doori aadhi ho jaati hai
log kehte hain parivartan hai jeevan ka niyam; fir kyun nahi sunta ye, behra hua shahar
apni samajh ke daayron se oopar nahi dekhta; khush hai khud hi mein itna, thehra hua shahar
roz roz bhaagte daudte hue; gati ke niyam se chalti zindagi mein
thak jaate hain mool adarsh aur dhaarnayein; aksar ruk kar poochti hain roz apne aap se
Is abhishapt pratispardha mein kyun hissa le rahe hain hum
santusht the hum apni us thehri hui duniya mein; aur ab chaah kar bhi thahar nahi paate hum
bhala lagta hai mujhko; rengta hua shahar
jahan na chalne ki jaldi hai na lautne ka intezaar
jahan ummeedein lagaane se pehle sochna nahi padta
aur jahan aas paas ka badlaav, todta nahi aapko
aise shahar mein bachi rehti hai pahchaanein apni
aur aapko khud pe yakeen dilaata hai
thehra hua shahar.
Tuesday, May 17, 2005
back to quizzingBack to quizzing...this is from a song...yeah, and as most of you have guessed it is written by Sahir. Guess the movie.
Niklete thhe kahaan jaane ke lie, pahunche hai kahaan maalum nahin
Ab apne bhaTakte quadmon ko, manzil ka nishaan maalum nahin
Barbaad wafa ka afsaana hum kis se kahen aur kaise kahen
KHaamosh hain lab aur duniya ko, ashkon ki zubaan maalum nahin
Dil shola-e-GHam se KHaak hue ya aag lagi armaanon me
Kya cheez jali kyun seene se, uTHta hai dhuaan maalum nahin
Humne bhi kabhi is gulshan mein ek KHwaab-e-bahaaran dekha thha
Kab phool jhaRe, kab gard uDi, kab aaee khizaan maalum nahin
Since there are so many Sahir fans around now. This one would be easy to guess, I am sure.
I always scorned the thought of spending another year there. The scorching heat and the chilling cold was always unbearable. I wanted to go out and explore the world as soon as I could. Never wanting to come back to the place which made me the person I am today. It took only a few months out of college to realize that I have left the safe abode of friends and teachers and have finally entered the big bad world outside. No sooner had this recognition hit me, that I wanted to run back, to go back to the place which gave me so much. This time, I went back to visit college because I missed it. I missed the ambience, the carefree attitude, the penniless but happy faces and the serenity which is irreplacable for me. I won't say that I miss the people the most, but yeah the way this place transforms pedestrians into brilliance in flesh, I miss that. This weekend, when the sun was at its shining best and the summers were at the peak torture point, I had the good fortune to visit school once again. Walking inside the gates, I realized the sudden spring in my step, though it was unbearably hot, and there were no rickshaws in sight. It welcomed me with the same open arms that it did 6 years back when I was an awkward girl looking for a foothold in the academic echelons. When I passed out, with the cap and the coat, two years back, I was a different person, somebody who had been chiselled and shaped to become a complete individual.
Though entering those gates is more difficult now. The guard on the gate asks for my id card. And yes, I am no more a student now so I give him some stuff about me being an alumni, wanting to visit, blah blah. He is not very convinced; maybe I have changed over time. From the bespectacled, reed thin and horribly dressed girl, I have graduated to a more refined version. Time, you see, changes everyone. This is vacations time in college, so there wasn't even a soul on the street to the academic area. Made a pit stop at the computer centre. The walls are still the same. The badly shot photograph of a lion still adorns the main entrance. The gates to the CC are still the same, squeaky, push pull. But most of the labs have closed. As the new building has come up, this one has been downsized. So there is change, somewhere, to some extent. The new CC canteen is miles ahead of the old canteen, with the Nescafe hoardings and neat little benches.
The lib reminds me of many more things rather than the journals or the reserved section. I was a regular at the lib, though the hours spent at the lib never reflected well on my grades. Change is evident there too. There are now notices on the gate that request students to switch off their mobiles before entering. But yes, the lib incharge still remembers me. It just feels like home inside. The same stale smell of books and the nerds lurking in the corners of the reserved section.
Meeting my teachers and visiting the same old lab which tolerated my experiments with science a couple of years back, brought memories alive all over again. The lab is still the same, though new desktops have replaced the old ones. My course notebook from the last semester still adorns my professor's room-it somehow reminds me, I was amongst his best students. Homecoming to my alma mater also boosts my belief in myself and my confidence in the intellect that it has passed on to me. A brief lunch at the campus restaurant does not seem sullen and grime as it used to be, two years back. Even the oily paneer and watery curd seems gourmet cuisines. True, the place sure does something to you. My friend and I confer that even after two years the prices of most of the dishes have stayed the same. The only difference is that now I leave a generous tip. A stark contrast to those student years when a tip was entirely out of question.
Walking out, I felt there was so much more to see and I want to stop by and touch everything, visit every place. Just that, time runs faster than my memory does. Going out of those hallowed gates, I wish I would come back. Back to home and back to my alma mater.
Monday, May 16, 2005
Inhuman and whyThis blog is not in order to descry the rape incident that took place last week in Delhi-now populary knows as the Dhaula Kuan rape incident-I think enough has already been written about it. Also, because I dont feel that it is all white or all black as it seems, my views might not resonate with the million others that have rattled the country is this past one week or so. Rapes are a blot on humanity's face. Sex by force is one of the worst crimes that can be committed against a women and a physical assault as brutal as a rape not only disfigures a women's physical and mental balance but it also places a big question mark on the state of a country's society, its entire social structure. The dhaula kuan incident in Delhi is not shocking as shocks are experienced if something out of the ordinary happens, but crimes against women have become a norm in Delhi and so "its all in a day's life". My thoughts on getting to know about the incident was, "how unsafe can life be, in public, for a solitary woman". I felt anguish and pain at not being able to do anything about it and I also felt a huge relief as I was not the one who was hurt. I know its selfish but when you are a lone girl living in a city like Delhi, such spasms of relief are not uncommon.
My surprise and remorse at the incident roots from two things: the incident itself and the reasons which led to it taking place. The lucid details of the rape, well molested and fleshed out by desi tabloids like TOI and HT are all over the country so I wont get into that but the reasons behind that are something that deserves a word or two. The girl in question walking out at 2 am near a dhaba at Dhaula Kuan is highly suspect. Which well meaning and sensible girl would even think of taking a walk at 2 am in the night at a place like Dhaula Kuan. Just why would she do that-for a meagre tea break !!! When societies go out of hand and when cultures start denigrating, one has to rise to the occassion to brace himself/herself against evil. More and more women in Delhi are becoming vigilant and are responding to the challenge that society is setting against them. In times like these, coming across incidents like the Dhaula Kuan one, makes me wonder, what was in the mind of that girl when she was walking at 2 am near Dhaula Kuan. Probably she also failed on her part to protect herself. If its a jungle out there, you should try to civillize it but also protect yourself, foremost.
The Indian rape story goes far beyond the criminal grime or the poor police situation prevalent in the country. It is more to do with the socio-cultural and the mental framework of the people that reside in this country. More with the kind of flux this nation finds itself in. When there is this so called modernity sweeping across metros and small towns alike but our conventional hypocrisy fails to budge aside. We shun the thought of our girls wearing low rise jeans and tank tops but also watch pornographic tapes in closed rooms at night. Such is the duality of thought, the split character of a nation like India. How is this affecting our social fabric? Vehemently. When girls complain about rampant eve teasing, why dont they also look back and see how they behaved in the first place. Its not one person's fault. Its a mutual responsibility. Rape is inhuman and animalistic but your security is in your very own hands.
The media is another factor which is convoluting the already complex situation in the country. TOI and HT-which I guess are the biggest paper media brands in India are leaving no stone unturned in catering to the subjugated and ignorant sexual mindset of today's youth. Has media forgotten its responsibility towards the society, of building a culture, of reporting the truth.
All this makes me wonder, what lies in the future and what is the future of my country and the youth, if there is any future at all...
Wednesday, May 11, 2005
addendumAs if the "wedding season" in bold was not enough !! I called a "was-out-of-touch-for-long" friend today and bingo, the big news he gives me is that he is getting married. Surprise, surprise !!!
Tuesday, May 10, 2005
weddings and engagementsThis seems to be the ultimate wedding season of all times. Everyone is seemilgy getting married. Not a week passes by when I don't hear news of people getting engaged and marrying. Not that I resent it, but isn't it too early ? It's been only two years since we left college-kids aged 21-22-and the next I hear is X is getting married in October and Y is getting engaged in August. As a friend bluntly puts, maybe I don't want to get over my nostalgia and my attachment with the past. I know of X and Y as easygoing, independent chaps. People I knew so well and had so much fun with, in college. The thought of these boys growing up and becoming men who are matured enough to get married in two years-is a little scary. Girlfriends with whom I shared a large part of my college life with; girls who were as kiddish as I was; who never mentioned marriage in any as-near-as-can-be future -are getting married and are apparently overjoyed and relieved with the event. Is everything changing and am I also supposed to grow up and leave old leaves behind and move on to the new saplings. Huh!! Can't say whether I can actually do that. I went to this wedding sometime back and all I wanted then was to shake my friends' hand and twist it the way we used to do back in college, to slap her on her back and run away; but then I am apparently supposed to have grown up and matured and to have overcome my childish urges. Thinking of a similar future for myself, scares me equally, if not more. Thinking of settling down and stopping this scot-free existence is scary at this age. Not that this subject is never brought up, but I shy away whenever it comes up. I think I will avoid it till it dawns on me that its time to move on.
Tuesday, May 03, 2005
Time-the omniscient healerTragedies don't always pass away unknowingly. Maybe the time for which they last, might just be a moment; but the shock of the event leaves you in a time warp that you never get out of. I have struggled with tragedies and due to the strong nostalgia that I carry with me, it becomes even more difficult to forgive or forget. Its been four months since I experienced the shock and pain of death. I was unprepared and quite naive to handle it. I was supposed to act matured but I guess my limited understanding of life failed me then.
I remember getting the fatal phone call, feeling the churning in my belly and just wishing all was well. Making the journey back home was the most painful travel that I have ever went through and then the dawning of the reality that everything was finished long before I arrived. Huh, so are the mysteries of life and the vaccuum that engulfs you when the full circle is done. It was odd-when everybody expected you to act all grown up and support your family-when you are struggling with your own grief; struggling to suppress the pain which will never go away.
I think normalcy resumed after a while; I could see routines falling into place. But, the wound remained and the time somebody touched it; I could see fresh blood on the gash.
Four months. It doesn't even seem like so much time has passed away since it happened. My personal struggle ranged from calming people around me to smothering the child inside me-who was suffering every minute-suffering the loss of a vital connection to childhood.
People tell me that time heals. Through time and over periods, I would learn to forget what was once, a living reality. Maybe they are right, time might heal the pain, but the emptiness, the vaccum, the vacant bench-that will never go away.