Celebrating Birth of humaneness

It was a hard existence for the car driver living in the mountains with a big family and single earning. When there was no demand for his vehicle from the tourists or on unseasonal lull his helplessness transformed into anger towards the family

Added to his woes of low earning he was enticed by a VIP of the town to buy his car so that he could become a car owner. The man fell for the trap and borrowed money to pay for the car. Apart from the amount paid, the driver was asked to pay the monthly dues for the loan the man had taken towards his car. For his part the seller didn't bother to provide any legal document to prove that after the bank dues were paid the vehicle would belong to him. The poor man solidly relied in human sincerity and also did not have the courage to ask for a document.

With the dwindling income he was in deep trouble with the bank and had to borrow money even for day to day expenses. As an appendage the expenses for great festival of Christmas were looming large in the horizon what with the festive expectations of his children. The accumulated frustrations had pushed the man to his nadir.

As on every day morning dressed in his white uniform he waited hoping against hope for a ride. “Is every one's life such a pile of tribulations?” he ruminated.

At that moment a tall man with a head full of white hair belying his age accosted him.

"My daughter in law is very sick......  We are taking her to her mother's place. Is your vehicle air conditioned...? Is it good for a long distance drive?" he said

With an enthusiastic affirmation from him they settled over the rate for a to and fro trip.

"He is indeed a good customer." the driver thought "Taking me along for the meals on the way and providing tea at regular intervals lest I fall asleep. And his wife is also a pleasant lady full of vigour.”

The settlement was handsome and soon he became the regular driver for the couple.

 Yet with all the good will whatever he earned was like a drop in the ocean.

One day morning as he was waiting at their house he saw the couple blessing the gardener and handing over a gift to him. When he enquired, the gardener proudly said that it was his birthday today.

"Celebrating a worker's birthday.......?  Impossible and unheard of...!" the driver was astounded.

"Do you know that they have a list of all the estate workers and their families' birthdays and other auspicious days and it is  hung in their room?" The gardener happily announced.

“Would you believe if I say that they got jerkins for all of us when they returned from their America trip? They are good people who can treat everyone as a respectable human being."

Hearing this the driver thought "Then I must be  lucky to drive for such noble couple though it was just on and off!"  His esteem for them rose sky high.

 He was behind them whenever they went for shopping never allowing them to carry the bags. If they went out to buy saplings he took them to the right place.  With his assistance they bought the best of honey, unadulterated peppers straight from the owners' orchard. By and by the relationship grew and he considered it a blessing to be in their company!

One day as they were returning from the town, down in the planes, the car stopped in the middle of the mountain road. The driver and the man got down to check and found out that it was a major repair.  With the help from the ongoing vehicle drivers they managed to tow the car to a mechanic shop.

After a week when the driver was called for duty by the couple they found out that his cell phone was switched off. One of the workers who lived near his house  told him that he was at home for the past few days but he couldn't  give any more detail.

 That man might not know that the lender from whom he borrowed came and shouted at him with unutterable words and set a time  for the dues to be paid. And the bank people were behind his back for the monthly repayment.

His wife was furious.

"When you were working on a rental basis we at least had the peace of mind. Now owing the car had landed us into unwanted problems.  Never in our lives have we heard such lowly words used  against us.

 Let us sell this house and pay the dues and go back to our village.  I cannot bear the shouts of that rogue once more.."  she emphatically said.

Meanwhile the couple decided to visit the driver. May be he was very sick. The house was dark  with no heating to keep off the cold. Covered in a blanket the driver was sitting in a corner with his head held between his knees. He got the shock of his life when he saw the couple and shot up!

“Sir………. Sir ….. Amma … amma …. “ No other word could come out of his mouth.

“We were worried” the lady said “Your cell phone was switched off….Where is your car? Haven’t you yet repaired it?"

“Amma ........it will be repaired in a few days."

His wife who was listening blurted out "Amma  please don't believe his words. The lender came and threatened him regarding the repayment of the loans and told that he would confiscate his house in lieu of their loan and the bank people too were coercing him regarding their dues."

"But why has he taken so many loans?"

The whole story cascaded down with great force!

Consoling them and handing over some cash they came back home.

The couple could feel the pain of deception and poverty of the family.

“In spite of all his problems the driver was giving us a great service with a smiling face and not a single word regarding his problems!” The lady was surprised.

“It shows the goodness in him.” The man said ” But as of now he is indeed in a Medusa’s tangle which has to be sorted out stage by stage.”

As a first step they decided to  get the car repaired which was the tool for his existence.

 With great effort and help from the influential local people they legalized the possession of the car.

 Their generous heart enabled them to repay all the loans which carried lot of interest and requested him to repay just the principal amount on a monthly basis.

The driver couldn’t believe the miracle that is happening in front of his eyes…….!

“Am I worthy of so many gifts Lord?” He blurted out!

“How could I repay this generosity? “He wondered!

On cold morning they found the whole family waiting in the portico and as the couple wondered what was happening they fell flat on the ground and wouldn’t get up till they were raised!

“You are the personification of God.”  With folded hands and uncontrollable tears the driver said “No…..  No……. No….   I am not right ……….you are the God.”

“Never ever say that.” The man said “We are God’s children.”

It was indeed the best Christmas for the family!

The driver’s family became their own and best part of the couple’s Deepavali celebration was inviting them for the grand lunch.

And there is no need to say that the family became part of couple's 'Wonder List' hanging in their room!

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p.s. We are indeed proud to be associated with such people who carry the values of life as their prime priority!!

A Noble Teacher ever Remembered

This happened in a small town surrounded by villages and as there were no schools worth their salt around this location, the parents sent their children to the town schools. Hence in the late fifties it was the school and it's teachers who ruled the roost and the illiterate parents used to tell the teachers to mindless torture  in case, any child lagged behind in the studies. “We are an ignorant lot" they would lament "at least let our sons go for a government job earning good money." There was also a conservative minority who thought that plenty of theoretical exercise and bookish knowledge was a waste and hard work combined with working knowledge of literacy was good enough for life.

As a consequence a teacher carrying sturdy cane along with the text book to the class was the order of the day! On that particular day the students were waiting for their Tamil teacher to enter the class. Severe and stern to look at, he was the terror of the truants and those who massacred the mother tongue with their rustic slang!

An unlucky boy from a nearby village had committed both of these heinous crimes of truancy as well as a vernacularly challenged behaviour. The profoundly upset teacher beat him blue and black and the boy was bleeding and had a limp as an add-on. Another blow from the teacher was his last straw. The student blurted out “My dad will come and take care of you properly” he shouted “Have you heard of Pakkiri of Rajapuram.....? His knife had seen more blood than what I have shed today and he will surely take care of you in a suitable manner….you....... " Uttering that unspeakable word casually he ran out the class.

Yes, the boys from that village had heard of this notorious man who revelled in using his knife at the drop of the hat! Hesitantly they came near their teacher to vouch that there were a few lucky one legged and single handed men in their area and one or two unlucky ones safe in their heavenly abode!  None in the village had had the audacity to reprimand or annoy him.” Keep off the rouge’s way” was the motto around the locality!

That man didn't want his son to study further and wanted him to follow his trade making money easily. But it was his wife who put her foot down and convinced him to send the boy to school.

 The Tamil teacher went numb with fear. The daily report from the boys of the man cursing him and sharpening his big knife further heightened his anguish and he decided to take the matter to the higher ups.

After verifying the facts about the man the principal called for an emergency staff meeting with the Tamil teacher literally shivering in his pants.  After advising the teachers to use their cane sparingly the pros and cons were discussed. At the end it was decided that they would go the ‘Gandhian’ way of peaceful negotiation.

But who was to bell the cat?

“Can we send the concerned teacher to his house to apologise?” was one suggestion

The Tamil teacher had a panic attack at the proposal. He declared that he would rather resign then and there than to encounter that horror." If not today I can always get a job but, not my life back." he declared emphatically

Then one among the teacher said “I will make a try.”

The teachers were bewildered with this offer. They all knew that he had a big family of young children and what if something untoward happened to this fool hardy man?! Was he after some vain glory?!

He landed in the village in his Hercules cycle as though on a holiday. The house of the notorious character was not big but neatly painted in terracotta colour. He thought that this reddish tinge didn’t auger well for the purpose of his visit. But seeing the boy playing in the portico was indeed a good omen (instead of lying in the bed) and the immediate absence of the man, at least near the doorway, portended well. The boy, seeing the teacher, ran inside and was pulling his reluctant mother to come outside, all the time shouting ‘teacher … teacher’. She was frightened at the site of a tall man standing at her door step and suddenly pulled her son away from that man! But the word 'sir' teacher aroused her immensely and she started shouting   "You…….you beat my son, made him bleed and now you are standing at my door step. If you care for your life run away from here before my husband comes to tear you apart." The boy tried to pacify his angry mother and ran and held the teacher's hand.

By this time the other boys studying in the school from this locality gathered around the teacher.

"Amma”, said the son,..... “He is our good teacher. Ask the other boys. Will they come to see him if he is bad?" You know he can draw the whole world map in five minutes….. Would you like to see it amma? He is a big teacher ….. He can do it in our front wall...please amma….. Then I can draw the world like my teacher……”

“Yes amma…. The other children sang in a chorus…. The world map will be a nice decoration to the house!”

 The manner in which the children were clinging to this teacher made the lady wonder and she requested him to sit in the veranda and went inside to bring a mug of butter milk, the normal courtesy in  villages those days.

This man had the habit of having sweets in one of his pant pockets and chalks in the other. He looked at the terracotta wall….

“This is my good fortune.” he happily mused. “The terracotta wall which frightened me has become my ally now in a beautiful contrast with  my white chalk!” As he distributed the sweets to the children he called them around and started drawing the map of the Americas. The map progressed with the children identifying the countries and the capitals! The village had gathered around in to look at this wonderment!

In the meantime the father of the boy arrived in his full regalia. Before he could fathom the situation and the gathering in front of his house his wife ran to him and pulling him aside started talking to him, with great many hand gestures implying some sort of warning. A man however strong he is has his own Achilles heel and in this case it turned out to be his better half!!

When he wished the teacher with folded hands the teacher was thoroughly flabbergasted, surprised at the miracle that was happening before his eyes!

The story indeed ended well with proper explanation of how concerned the Tamil teacher was in his son’s education and an offer from our teacher to send the boy to his house for free tuitions in the morning! The father was well pleased and reprimanded his son for his truancy and lack of attention in the class.

Now the scene shifts from the fifties incident to a current episode in 2017!

One of this teacher’s grandson interested, now involved in organic farming and interested in in greening his town, was looking for open spaces to plant traditional trees. When he went to meet the concerned official in the government department, there was an elderly man who also waiting. As they were chatting the talk turned towards the family and when the boy informed about his father the man got up and,  affectionately folding of both his hands with great reverence, exclaimed that he was the student of his grandfather and his son was the student of his father. “But for your grandfather our village will not be what it is today. People still talk about him. If he sees a person smoking he would offer him a sweet and with a pep talk request him to go off the habit. He knew all the families and would smoothly sort out any problem of any house hold. He was beyond the staunch adherence of the caste system of the villages and accosted all the male members as raja (king) so much so that he himself was called “Raja sir”

This stranger at the government office could not be stopped. “If there are so many educated people with great values in the village today, the credit solely goes to your grandfather. My dear boy if you go to any village around here you can be sure of the repetition this same story! You are indeed a lucky man!” He exclaimed.

The grandson couldn’t believe what he had heard and wondered how this was possible after more than fifty years! He was just an ordinary teacher but how could he metamorphose into an enigma par excellence holding the place in the heart of people? He was a handsome six footer but all the handsome men didn’t achieve it? His sincerity……?  All the sincere men didn’t accomplish it. He is still a mystery, an enigma, yet a morning star ever guiding humanity.

And the young man interested in tree planting was none other than my nephew and the noble teacher is my dad.  I am sure that those good genes would  continue through his progenies  in varied form to enrich of our society!

Modern Columbus in Search for Spices

We were indeed surprised to see our friends! They were on a six month's tour of USA, where their bachelor son was working in a software company, but within a month they were at our door steps

What happened? Was it some emergency medical problem…..? Was it the cold climate…? We were anxious.

“Don't worry. In America your friend simply refused to move out of our son’s house......” my friend’s husband said.

Contrary to his statement my friend belonged to a distinctive genre. Like a genie she would present herself at my house for any outing request ere my cell phone lost its heat!  Both of us had travelled in the Bharath Dharshan special train covering North India. Last year it was to Kolkata to my friend's house during Durga Pooja where we visited umpteen number of Pooja pandals getting blessed copiously tasting varieties of chats on the streets of Kolkata uncaring for the tender stomach lining!  And it was when we were planning for an artistic experience to Shantiniketan that their son sent a ticket to the USA and they were off for a six month sojourn.

"It is a big story indeed...." my friend's husband started.

"Our son was extremely happy to see us after a long break.  He wanted show us the wonders of his adopted country especially his mother and as an inaugural treat told his mother “Ma, today we are going out for dinner to a renowned restaurant  and guess what ?! It is your favourite item.... fish and more fish! You are in for a surprise!" he said. In my wife’s imagination the authentic Karaikudi's and Amaravathi's type of restaurants should have been doing a Russian ballet.

"Will you please stop ......" my friend told her husband, the narrator "I will continue the story from here lest you provide a very distorted version of the whole happening."

She continued the episode, "As we entered the expensive looking restaurant I witnessed plenty of fish tanks and appreciated the great ambience this  fish  restaurant had created! We took our seats ably assisted by the attendant who handed us the menu card which said

"PICK THE FISH OF YOUR CHOICE FROM OUR TANKS"

"Mum and dad please come and choose the fish you like."

Our son lead us towards the tanks. I was under the impression that the fish in the tanks were similar to the fancy ones some homes have and this high end fish restaurant indeed deserved such a decor. But now I didn't like the idea of choosing. Innocently ordering something off the menu was one thing but being asked to exercise an executive decision over which creature should die tonight in the interest of my palate was entirely different and definitely not up my alley!

 I called my son aside and told him to pick any fish he knew well and I wanted it to be fried.  You know in our (Indian ) culinary custom the process of cooking  fish consisted of  a long one of cleaning the slices, removing the scales properly, rubbing it with salt and turmeric powder and washing it again  and then adding adequate masalas and allowing it to soak till the masala atoms  engulfed the tiniest  atoms of fish and cooked in slow fire. So I guessed from the time of catching your chosen fish with a little scooping net and taken to the kitchen for preliminary procedures and then to the frying pan would take at least an hour. But it was not to be. Before I could say 'jiffy' the server brought before me a big plate of assorted vegetables, leaves  and boiled potato on which a whole fish sat glaring at me with its big eyes like a haughty king in a royal procession! I shuddered! One sliver of that fish unto my mouth was enough to remind me of my early months of pregnancy and taking my son’s hand for guidance I ran to the rest room where my innards were somersaulting towards my mouth!

"And then it was the turn of the lamb chops experiment  which my son said could equal in taste of  her own gastronomic  specialty." The husband continued. "But in the plate was a huge chops which my wife said was beef, nothing but beef! "

"Ma in this place this sort of cheating is impossible. They would seal the restaurant  for ever if they were bluffing." my son said "You know America is a real fertile country. Look at the people here. We look like Lilliputians in their midst. So too are their animals. I can very well vouch that it is a lamb and not a cow." Nervously I poked the stuff but again it was a marathon race to the rest room.

"I didn't vomit." I declared triumphantly "But it stinks."

"Would you try some salad?"

"Only goats eat leaves."

"Some vegetables?"

"Am I a patient to eat boiled vegetables!?"

"So this vicious circle of varied American food brought on to the point of starvation except when we were lucky enough to locate an Indian restaurant....." her husband went on. Our son had taken a long leave to take his spirited mum around the country. But in mid-American plains, spending the nights in the motels, where do we locate her choice eateries? Like her daily morning prayer her first request to her son turned out to be finding an Indian place for at least one meal!

 I wondered if Columbus had such a fervent intention when he was on his search voyage to find out India as my wife! His search for India landed him in the Americas . But my wife landing herself in America was trying to find out the taste of Indian spices in this far away land!!" Her paradise turned out to be the vegetarian Saravana Bhavans and their ilk." He laughed

"You are very right "I intervened" The intention of both Columbus and my friend carries a great similarity where ever their search was. Columbus wanted to find the sea route to India for its valuable spices and so too is my friend....!!"

 "It is very true." said the husband  At the end it was bread and a bottle of hottest Indian mango pickle which came in handy. But with this diet her stomach went for a sixer and she had to rely on ice creams, biscuits and their fellow beings. But after a while she refused to take them too "My mouth feel sour and funny ." she declared.

One look at her could tell me a big story, her healthy glow was gone and her enthusiasm to see places dwindled. I called my son and told him "Don't worry about the extra expense of cancelling the ticket and buying a new return ticket. Your mother's health is important." The boy was sad but there was no other option. He was holding her hand till we reached the check in point at the airport. "My dear boy" the  thoroughly upset lady said "Even in India there are many software companies offering big salary. Why should you suffer this horrible food in this God forsaken place? Come back home."

On hearing this pleading request, his glum demeanour changed and he started laughing." Ma I am working in a company where you can talk in  Tamil and joke in Tamil.  And if an American comes into our office  our standard joke is .."Hey some foreigner is coming . Go find out what he wants!!". We have Deepavali and Pongal holidays and restricted holidays for Avani Avittam for changing the sacred thread is also thrown in as a bonus! And you know ma, every day there is some Indian food on the lunch table and we bachelors get preference over the rest and most weekends and on festival days  we get together at one of our friends' house to enjoy Indian food and goodwill!”

His mother thought for a while and this time she happily called her husband " Next time he comes home his marriage is a done thing. ”She boarded the flight, a contended woman!"

"If you come across some a good girl please inform us" the husband said.

"Of course we will look for a well-educated girl from a good family." I replied

 "But the girl has to fulfill extras criterion too..." He laughed......" You very well know your friend is a post graduate!!" he said sarcastically and handing me a bag full of Hershey they took leave feeling great and contended in our own Indian soil!!

Behind the curtains

"This was happening in the almond rich region of North India" cried the newspaper. The printed picture spoke volumes.  Three or four old   toddlers were standing on a heap of almonds spread over a big room and were going around  in a cyclical motion. We have witnessed the prevalence of abundant child labour in our  poverty stricken  populated nation.  In  everyday life we see them as servers in the road side tea stalls, as assistants in the automobile repair shops, in mechanic shops doing welding works sans any protection to their eyes, in the cycle shops filling air and doing puncture work. These are just few examples only. Apart from these known and seen phenomena  do we know about the behind the scenes child labour? That the buffing work to the stainless steel utensils which make them shine like silver displayed in big shops are done by the child labour in a dingy airless rooms? That the match stick and cracker manufacturing centres do have children working by simply changing their age  in the papers? The examples can go on endlessly.........

But the newspaper picture denoted an entirely different category of child labour. Shall we call it "The toiling toddlers?" As I threw the whitish almond nuts into my morning oats porridge  the three pairs of tiny legs portrayed in the newspaper  seemed to stare at me with vengeance!

Why not an adult do this job?  Why a baby? The simple answer was that  this  job could not be done by an adult! The soft brown skin of the almond indeed needed a  light force to get the white nut as a whole  which carries the best price in the market. An adult leg would indeed spoil the show bringing forth just broken nuts!

“Ma buy some branded perfumes for friends or fine bone china for the house  which tourist would prefer to take home." my daughter said "why should you buy these almonds abundantly available in  India? In our own Chennai  the Mint street and beyond where   have  shops doing flourishing business in nuts and dry fruits!"

I had to make a little explanation to her for my  purchase!

Given a choice I would prefer to watch the super singers in the TV channels and especially the junior ones. With their  innocent starry eyes they always add value to the singing. But my heart bleeds for the little ones when they are rejected by the judges however comforting their words were. Sometimes they pathetically stare at the judges  even after their rejection without proper understanding. Could the judges think of a small gift along with their talks?

If the sadness at their rejection was one part of the story, the parents waiting outside in great anticipation look at the child as if he was good for nothing stuff.  The pressure they put on their child  was worse than  on a ordinary  child labourer, since the mental and  the psychological strains take a toll on the efficiency and self-confidence of the child.

The Lilliputian size of the modern family and literacy level of the parents pumps in lot of time and energy into the house hold and children become the guinea pig to the  avaricious longings of the parents and thus the focal point of all unwanted attention. That my child should be an all-rounder bringing in  laurels constantly fills their mind. A scholar, a sports man, a singer of great repute  and thus a money spinner becomes the sole criteria.

"I have “thoo toosans evedhi dhey” one in the school and then one at the “aunthi” miss house” (I have two tuitions every day, one at the school and the other auntie miss' house) with a sigh  a child of three blurts out.

My child can write ABCD up to Z and from 1 to 100  is the false crown which  most of the middle and lower rung groups in the Indian society would love to wear. The pedagogical psychology, it is revealed that children should not be allowed to write till they are 7 or 8 as their fingers are not yet to be ready for that exercise.

 And if the child is able to recite the rhyme "Baa baa black sheep" they reach their crescendo!

Along with all these, their desire to get their children to  appear  in the TV  becomes a life ambition and thus adding one more feather to their cap! And what best route than the super singer programme with the lucrative monetary benefits as an add-on!

And the preludes to this programme  was not as pleasant as the end products appear to be. It is indeed the Calvary  to the child and we happened to be the unlucky witness to this whole process.

 My husband and I were on our monthly travel and stayed at the usual hotel. We love the place and  it's ambience and the walker's way just opposite  made a tempting option to stay in there.

As usual we were out of the room at 5.30. for a pleasant walk anticipating a  friendly accosting of the known faces! As we came to the portico  I was surprised that this serene place  the teeming with  people! The security guard came running and asked us to use the other gate since the usual one we use was locked. We looked around and could see a big crowd  outside the gate.  As we reached the walkers way  we understood that it was not just a crowd outside the  gate  but a big queue was extending beyond. The variety of the gathering was stunning! It consisted of father mother and child combination  or the child with a single parent and also grandfather grandmother and grandchild combo or the child with single grandparent. The whole show reminded me of the fairy tale story of " The pied Piper of Hamlin" wherein the  motley crowd of rats ran behind the piper enjoying his tune! 

Our Walkers way was also monopolised by people and food stalls and someone told us that  audition for junior super singer was to take place in the hotel around 10 in the morning. As we walked along amidst the crowd we witnessed an interview  with a grandmother who was there with  her grandson by the TV channel crew.

The request for an interview enthused the lady and she must have thought it might add value in her grandson's selection process!

"Can you wait for a minute?"  she requested them." I have brought some talcum powder for my grandson and I would use some for myself." She laughed. Talcum powder.....luckily for the grandma it was  the only makeup the previous Tamil generation  was aware of!

On that day we zig zagged through the populace instead of the salubrious trees and  peacock calls. The crew continued with their random interview which would make a proper prelude for the TV programme!

As we moved on we heard a frightened shout of a little boy who was holding his mother's salwar scarf tightly.

"Amma, amma, a wax doll is walking towards us...."

"Don't blabber.. shut up and practice the song..."

 Curiously we turned around  to witness the boy's wax doll indeed it was a crew member who did the interviewing of the people in the queue. In her heavy makeup of  mascara, rouge and bright lipstick and a  short frock and  high heeled shoe she could have easily frightened us, leave alone the poor child!

" Are you having a busy day today.....?" I accosted the staff gathered  in the reception area.

"Ma’am these people are crazy....... I have two young girls but neither my wife nor I would risk our children's life in this manner. Yesterday around midnight an old lady and her young granddaughter were knocking at our gate. They had started early in the morning from a village near Nagapattinam.  What with the crowded buses  they could reach this place now. They had come for the next day’s  audition for the super singer. Since our hotel was away from the centre of the city we wondered how they reached the place. They took an auto it seemed. We were aghast. What sort of risk they had taken at this hour? Anything could have happened to the young girl leave alone the old lady! Since we didn't have the right to open the gate  we had to wake up the resident manager and get his permission to let them in. In the reception area all the sofas were occupied by the sundry male crew members and  we found  a corner behind a sofa for them.  At that moment the old lady said that apart from the rice porridge they had in their house early in the morning they had not had any food through the day.   But we were in a dilemma as we could not go out during duty hours. We told her that there would be a food stall open in the  corner beyond the gate where she could get some food and till she came back  we would be taken care of her granddaughter .

 Ma’amm, we gave her a piece of our mind which she would never forget in her life."

"Hope she had learnt her lesson."

"I don't think so mam." another staff continued "the craze for fame and riches rules the roost! The irony is that of the thousand and odd children  being auditioned today only nine are going to be selected and added to this the rumour goes around  that the preferred lot of four or five children had already been chosen. For this  fake  audition these pitiable children should have been practicing with masters for months!  The pressure from the parents should have been sitting on their heads! And today the wakeup call should be very early for them to reach this place at four or  five in the morning!"

Sitting in the room I was musing. Can our children grow as healthy plants with just natural manure of good values and positive attitude? Why add up unwanted chemical fertilizers of  materialism greed and avarice to make them grow faster and bear just sour fruits? Do we realise that their mental and physical health is affected in the process?

p.s. I have taken away the super singer from my list of watchable! 

The Aryan invasion

Centuries back the first Aryan invasion happened in Tamil Nadu in the guise of  a  service industry and in spite the colossal changes the society had through the period,  like the persistent cockroach  this age old institution still flourishes  with greater intensity embracing the nooks and corners  of our land. The Suhk Rams, Mangarams or the Maghilals continue to provide the service with their progenies occupying the same little space known as the pawn shops!  Similarly the Sowcarpet and Mint area of Chennai had been invaded and  dominated by the Aryans who control the wholesale trading. With their own festivals, tradition and customs and even creating a Tamil lingo of their own  they crafted  a solid niche in the Tamil land! 

Then there was an invasion from further north! The men from Nepal, whom we call as goorkas came in to protect us from  nightly nuisance from unwanted elements intruding in our good night sleep! Their shrill whistles  at various points in the night instead of jolting us brought in plenty of peace and security!  My first encounter with a foreign professional living in Chennai was at the famous 'mat bazaar'  and he was a dentist. My husband was there for a  consultation on the strong recommendation of my father in law  as 'the cheapest and the best in town'. The man with the name Dr. sung Sui ( don't remember it rightly) sitting in his little but neatly stacked up cubicle (only the Chinese are capable of) was a person who wouldn't waste his time and ours too and was right on his job from the word 'go'! My in law was right and it was the quickest and efficient session any one can have with a dentist and at reasonable charges!!

The seedling for beauty parlours were sown in our conservative city by the invasion of the girls  from north east with cute little nose on their big square face talking sweetly in pidgin Tamil. They were the forerunners for the concept of ‘beautification is also skin deep’ and the concept spread like wild fire  among the women folk thus enhancing the reputation and rates of their organisation!

The others were the few Chinese restaurants with  funny names who had the same genre of waiters serving us noodles and chicken Manchurian et al.

And this was the 70s show  of invasion by Aryans and foreign professionals but never in my wild dream did I anticipate  a whopping jolt lurking around the corner!

While we accepted these people as a matter of fact with their specialised professions I was awe struck  to see a north Indian  face in  my very own local sweet meat shop! With his minimum Tamil it was a dumb mimicry show between both of us. I pointing out the sweets and he asking me how much! The business was over in minutes but I missed the usual ‘tete et tete’ that usually happened with the counter personnel on the freshness of the sweets and  how my family enjoyed the one I bought last time. The person would inform me about the new introduction of the season tempting me, right royally, with  a sample! Yes the bill climbed up but I come out of the shop smiling with the lingering taste of the sampled sweet, uncaring about the extra  calories just added!

We were cursing ourselves when a huge apartment block was coming up opposite to our house! We have to grin and bear the dust, noise, pollution  and reverberating vehicles delivering sundry materials day in and day out at least for a year!! Since the police would not allow heavy material vehicles during the busy day  the delivery especially of granite stones created a thunder when we were in deep slumber shaking us out of our night slumber! With the night sleep gone we had to sit around blurry eyed trying to talk and drink some water after missing the morning walks and the yoga!

 If this was a nuisance I was bewildered by the work force. Yes you guessed it right They were  mostly from the north of the vindyas. But this time the influx was more wholesome. Their families had come to stay in the tin roof shed  provided by the contractor they settled down with their belongings and little ones.  I wondered why do they undergo so much of hardship  immigrating to this God forsaken shed? Were there no manual jobs available in their own location?

Or is there a paucity of manual workers in Tamil Nadu?

I later learnt that our own work force took things for granted since the supply was lesser than the demand and hence were  dictating terms regarding  rates and timings. Some ingenious contractor who had visited north found out about the measly wages paid to the manual labour there and bent  upon breaking this southern monopoly should have  convinced the northerners to give it a try in the beautiful south ! That which started as  a trickle turned into a flood and unawares we were caught in a huge deluge!

In came this dedicated labour force who found that the south Indians were better pay masters and the freedom they enjoyed in here was far more better than under their slavish masters of their place. They wanted to prove that for a lesser wage they were willing  to give them better and reliable service!

Like ants they started their work early in the morning (unheard of by our work force) while the cooking was taken care of a by a lady who doubled as the helping hand later in the day!

Sunday  was a day  for a good meal and buying rice from the local ration card holders. They created a contact in the locality with a person who was capable of providing enough and more of  free ration rice for Re.5 per kg.

I still wonder how the young children survived in this dusty  ambience without any sickness. It was indeed the 'survival of the fittest'.   They ran around, played on the sand heaps  jumped over the pipes wiped their noses with the shirt and skirt ends and generally were happy. After a ritual bath and a change of clothing the  evenings were spent in cuddling the little ones  with plenty of gossiping and laughter in their own tongue!

Like the locusts prying on the crops  they spread everywhere including the whole sale vegetable markets and big textile stores! The man selling tomato missed the Tamil accent and it was funny to listen to the price in a different slang! On the other hand it was a free linguistic exchange for our traders too! At least they learnt by heart all the numbers up to hundred in a Hindi of their own! This was to lure the Aryan customers who now abound the market. "Two kg of peas  'aasa' only" they would tempt the Hindi speaking buyers! (while 'assi' is 80  'aasa' means desire!)   So much for Hindi agitation of 1965!

We were at our little village just to have an idea of the renovation of the chapel happening there. The work was going in full swing. We usually sit at the portico of the chapel after the prayers for a chat. There was a young chap, unknown to me, accosting me with an endearing, " didi...... balo aachen?" (" sister how are you?") ( Someone among my village relatives should have told him that we had lived in Calcutta)

 The language which I spoke  40 years back hit me  and without batting an eye the reply involuntarily  came out  from me  "balo tho, thumi kemon aaccho?" (" I am fine how are you?"). I was really taken aback by a Bengali work man! Bengalis are supposed to be intellectuals with the least inclination for manual work!.... Is this man a Bengali? A Bengali young man generally has a  craving for his adda  (chat sessions at street corners) with friends  discussing veraciously about his football and Carl Jung. But every rule has an exception and our Bengali man who was doing his first year graduation had to discontinue due to family situation and one of the supervisor, distant relative of his brought him to Tamil Nadu. With his impeccable work for the chapel and a smiling face he created a rapport  with the people in the street and on a Bengali festival day he even cooked  in his three brick stove some special sweet dish and shared it with them.

The next day morning, instead of the usual kolam, the front of my house  was decorated with a lotus rangoli of colour powders and the words "welcome" arching the top space!. The sincere affection in finding a person who could speak a bit of his language should have filled his heart and I was not sure if my broad smile compensated the extent of his joy!

You might come to the conclusion that the  Aryan invasion is  thorough in Tamil Nadu when it has reached my 'shop less' sleepy little village  and a heavy out flow of revenue from the south to the north is imperative.

But the worry about the outflow need not hassle anyone since a  greater invasion of a different kind is happening  in the land of the Tamils!  Where we lose in lakhs of rupees, by the manual work force's influx, we merrily compensate through multi crores revenue by a different kind of invasion! This money making industry is the medical field which attracts the Aryans to this land! With the medical facilities at  its nadir  in their own states, they rely on the high quality service provided by our highly skilled  speciality doctors and superbly  maintained hospitals! And when it is the question of the health of their  families no one wants to compromise  and the expenses does not matter at all! Apart from the medical expertise it has created another linguistic service industry where upon umpteen number of younger generation qualify themselves in the lingo of the patients' choice happily conversing in their own language providing the comfort zone for the sick in an unknown land! Even at the point of registration the board says so in their own lingo!

Hence dear friends where we have lost in manual services, we have well compensated in our own counter Dravidian invasion through an intellectual skill set.

The Great question of basic hygiene

This news was on the 28th of June 2017 Indian express and the headlines go like this:

"A Bihar village has ACs geysers cars but not a single toilet!"

It's the affluent village of Gaziapur in southern Bihar with most of the 200 hundred families possessing modern gadgets but lived in a house sans toilets. What could be the reason? It is as simple as that. SUPERSTITION!! The man who had the courage to build one in his house 29 years ago lost his younger son for no rhyme or reason. They fear that building a toilet in a house could lead to imminent death of a family member! As a by-product of this superstition people from around are hesitant to give their girls in marriage to the boys of the village however rich they are!

Our southern town of Trichy is a bit superior to the Gaziapur affair. In the older part of the town there are toilets but there is a defect in the placement. They are right on dot at the end of the front verandah and the smell reverberates through the open drainage system

When we were young we promoted ourselves from the open defecation to toilets among the trees at the back yard of the house. Any untimely urgency at night was the single problem what with the trees involved in their devilish dance and umpteen numbers of scary anecdotes by the oldies revolving around them!

When I came to Chennai for the first time to visit my elder sister, she lived in a house where many families lived in portions allotted to them but it was a single toilet for the whole lot. It was underneath the staircase resembling a cave. The urine smell emanated from the old walls and the stench of beedi closed on me from all the three sides. In those days smoking beedi inside the toilet was common to both the sex since the belief was that this process enhanced of the bowel movement. Coming from the culture of trees speckled backyard toilets with copious oxygen this Chennai experience was indeed a breathless one!

 It was the late sixties when we got married and landed in Rajahmundry where my husband was working as an engineer in the Andhra Praddesh paper mill. Movies were the only entertainment and for a small town the theatres screened good English movies with two translators near the screen who would do a perfect job in Telugu (an irritation for the non Telugu group). Our very first visit to the theatre was an enjoyable one with the Jerry Lewis movie. As we left the theatre after the show I started screaming "blood ... blood" After some investigation my hubby found out that amidst the enthusiasm of watching the movie, specially in local lingo, people had used the theatre floor as a giant paan spittoon!

Till the end of nineties the city of Bangalore was a joy to behold with its green foliage and was neither a proliferated jungle of IT companies and nor baptised as Bengaluru. We were on our leisurely annual visit to the city where we could traverse the open space sans diesel smell. Near the Cubbon Park there was a newly built wonder called Sri Kanteerava Indoor Stadium with a pet name given by the Bangaloreans as "Sree." There was an exhibition going on in the place then and with our dual purpose of seeing the new wonder too we made a visit to the place.  We were amazed at the marvel with facilities for multiple sports, rock music and international and local events! As we were nearing the rear end of the tour we were shocked by the disgusting odour engulfing the whole area! Yes...you guessed it right. It was the stench emitted from the rows of toilets of the stadium. We were highly disappointed. Such a sophisticated place deserved an expert maintenance team!? But this was decades back.  Let us hope that things have changed for better similar to Chennai theatres!

In the olden days we used to avoid going to movies in Chennai as the all-pervading urine stench emanates through the theatre especially after the intermission. But now theatres are a delight to visit even though we pay through the nose to watch a movie along with newly introduced GST!

My daughter in law who was on a professional visit to Theni had some times to visit one of the numerous waterfalls which dotted the area. She was amazed by the fact that while the Tamil Nadu side was strewn with rags, dirty clothes, plastic bags, food waste, the other side which was west of the Kerala border was a pristine beauty!

It was a retreat centre in Kerala and when an announcement to the congregation made my sister hang her head down in shame

“Devotees from Tamil Nadu please keep your toilets clean" the announcement said “We have plenty of water." What sort of dirty impression we have created!

It is small restaurant which we favour during our monthly sojourn to Trichy. It was not a smelly one with abundant water supply and a bucket full of phenol with a mug. But the users never care or bother about the next person who has to enter content with completing their own job. Their dirty shoe and slipper imprints and unflushed toilets make the place nauseating. Kindness to the neighbours can be reflected by this small deed of using the health faucet over the area before we come out! As a lesson learnt from our great saint of India, Mahatma Gandhi, I always make it a point to make the toilet clean at entry as well as exit points.

 It was a part of a letter to the editor of a famous English daily from a reader and it goes like this:" Sir I am a frequent air traveler locally and abroad. What hits you as you land at Chennai airport is the stench from the toilets In spite of all modernisation  no one bothers about the proper maintenance of this basic amenity which puts the country as a whole in shame." Even though we are not frequent travelers like the reader we whole heartedly endorse his views

This incidence takes the cake!!

It was an All India women's conference on a beautiful location. At the end of the first day an emergency meeting was called by team of organisers. To make the purpose of the meeting very clear all the members of the organising committee made a dramatic entry to the stage carrying buckets and brooms!

The owners of the place it seemed are threatening them to vacate their spotless place then and there and they didn't bother if it was an all India meet of great importance. Their toilets are stinking beyond words and they wondered how the group of highly educated women were capable such a dirty job!

“We begged with them to give us one chance." One of them said “Unless all of us make a resolution regarding our basic hygiene you can be sure that this three day conference is a bygone affair."

The selfishness with which even the educated women behaved was beyond words! But proper sense prevailed after the dramatic appearance and the conference continued without a hitch!

As young children we used to wonder why our dad had hung two aesthetically decorated and framed words on either side of the alter in the house.

One talks about the Homely Blessings and the other Homely Virtues.

I thought it apt to produce the Homely Virtues in the context of this blog.

HOMELY VIRTUES

The Beauty of Home Is Cleanliness

The Honour of Home Is Friendliness

The Blessing of Home Is Godliness

 The Richness of Home Is Cheerfulness

The first stanza let us add the "tidiness of our toilets" too!

Marks and Mayajaal

If the nurses and the nursing assistants were one part on my  home adventure there were other sidekicks  who created  excitement in what was supposed to be a disciplined, routine household activity. Those were the days of too many couriers and speed posts and plenty of visitors and opening and closing of the many gates to our house became an arduous job for aging father in law.

 My sister in law , a mother superior in the interiors of Vellore who came for a visit said that a new girl had come to her convent as assistant in the kitchen  and she could be helpful to dad in the day to day activities to  act as a gate keeper and clean and sweep  the garden early in the morning and draw the kolams  in the frontage, read the bible whenever he wanted and in case anyone of the helpers is absent she could easily chip in.

She was a peculiar girl for her age, an ordinary rasam (milgutanni soup) rice can satiate her hunger and with a movie of a particular actor she could even forego that meal. She is more of a Buddhist with 'one day one meal' routine and a deep meditative mode, not on the Divine but on her favourite actor. My father in law was a worried man. A girl in her teens should eat well. Even though she pretended to listen to his sincere  advice on health it fell on the deaf years.

On a week end I called our cook aside to find out the facts. She burst out "Only when she gets married and begets a child she would understand her disrespect for food”. While the nurses and assistants gorge on the food and scrap the vessels clean, this girl sits around chatting and joking. But she complains of stomach pain now and then and if ever he gave her a special treat she would pass it on to the nursing assistant on sly. "

Then I called the girl. She endeared herself by pretending to listen carefully. But at the end she opened up. She had been in a hostel for six years and used to plenty of snacks packed from the house as well as outside and regular food was unknown to her system. The orphanage food which was prepared carelessly with smelly rice and moldy vegetables was not her forte and when the nuns were not looking around she used to throw it over the wall. On the pretext of taking her sick class mates or friends to the hospital she would gallivant the town with them and pooling the resources go for tasty snacks.

"Till which class did you study..?" I asked

" SSLC (Secondary School Leaving Certificate) akka (sister)" she replied

" Have you passed?"

After some hesitation and scratching of head she said "I think I have failed in one subject."

"Which subject..."

She was not very sure.

I am a fan of my mum who (in those Godforsaken days girls were stopped from school with elementary education and trained in house hold activities) was a sort of revolutionary sending all her 6 girls for higher education and being her daughter I decided then and there that I would coach her up to finish her SSLC.

The communication to send her certificate was sent home and when it arrived we had a surprise of our lives to receive four of them instead of one! Yes our girl has passed one subject at a time and thus completing one subject per certificate with the minimal pass mark of 35 out of hundred!! Heart in heart I wished that the subject she had failed should be social studies  and never math or science, my enigmas! But it was not to be. She had bunked in science. I was sad. To pep me up my hubby appeased me not to worry and that he could take care of that . After all it was tenth standard science. But the happiness didn't last long when the book arrived!

 One look at the book threw him off the balance!

"But it's in Tamil.." he exclaimed

"What did you expect, an English medium student from the rustic depth of Tamil Nadu..?" I replied

My husband didn't study much Tamil. Though his spoken language was good his writings and  the reading and writing  was not his forte! He did his metric in a seminary  aiming to become a priest and hence his second language was Latin.

We were in a dilemma. Then I told him that the biology part of the science was ok with me and even  chemistry was manageable  but the physics was not a good friend. We arrived at a compromise. That during the week end when both of us were free I would sit and listen to his explanations and in turn  would do my best to convey  the things right!!

Thus started our pilgrim's progress. We too had many temptations. She would love to distract me with many an anecdote. When someone died in the village, the grievance would end with a public show of a movie by their favourite actor! Similarly any celebration with the VIPs and politicians attracted cinema shows. Her father a pious man who hated watching movies once saw her in the crowd and that day was the worst day in her life with him beating her in the public and continued it unto the house too!. But in spite of it she could deceive him by taking her bed sheet and cover herself lest he saw her! Bringing her back to the pendulum theory was indeed a Himalayan effort! She would create as many excuse as possible like  'hearing thatha's call'  'basic nature calls' 'unfinished work' 'her forgotten food' and so on.

Coming back from office when I was tired, it was indeed an effort that both of us could sit together for long  in this distractive ambience. But weekends provided a somewhat better duration in spite of all her devious ways.

She wrote the exams privately and we didn't expect much from her. A pass mark indeed would have made us happy. And she could own her 5th certificate! On the day of the result my husband who saw the result on line came from his room to announce that she had passed with 53percent , her highest score in SSLC! She was all in tears.

"That's not my mark...." she cried

" We know....... we know...... you studied and got the better mark this time." FIL cajoled her.

" No thatha (grandpa), this mark is too low..... I expected a higher percentage......"

Everyone was aghast!

But finally when my husband came out with a smile to declare that she passed her science exam with 83 percent  all she  could do was  to cry copiously to the bewilderment of the motley crowd of nurses, assistants cook and of course all of us!

"What gift would you like  for this wonderful achievement ?" my husband asked her

Without winking her eyelid she said " The latest movie of my hero  at  Mayajaal ( a famous theatre in Chennai) please"!