tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-88213211564822741932024-03-13T23:50:48.173-07:00Posts from a Small Townshubhrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07459771604884990458noreply@blogger.comBlogger34125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821321156482274193.post-24546908676372817692012-09-04T01:31:00.000-07:002012-09-05T02:40:10.180-07:00Fooling or Schooling?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
A close family friend paid me a visit with my prospective student, her 18month grandson.The child shouted 'Dadi' and gleefully jumped into my lap.I was struck with this dreadful feeling of 'deja vu', as my memory went into an auto rewind mode and played a sequence from over two decades back..I recalled that my younger son had made a similar leap of faith into the outstretched arms of a 'Nani', who was a dear friend of my mother as also the owner of the school in which my son had to be enrolled for a few months as a stop gap arrangement .What followed thereafter was the biggest sham in primary education I have ever witnessed!<br />
From day one,my five year old strutted around the school as if he owned it.Whenever he found the discipline of the classroom stifling, the education being imparted dreary , he would walk out of the class into the Directors office and be treated to a copious amount of Coke and chips! He was often the solitary student in the playground , during school hours see-sawing with 'Nana'(The directors husband !!)..<br />
One day I was informed that his class teacher Mrs Mukherjee (Most irreverently referred to as Mrs Muchadjee ) wanted to see me.I entered the office to be confronted by a lady with a very prominent follicular growth on her upper lip.."Good morning Mrs Mukherjee", I quipped chirpily.I realized my faux paux , when i saw the teacher looking extremely perplexed as she was meeting me for the first time !! As soon as I introduced myself , she went apoplectic.She told me that considering Hindi was my mother tongue my son looked upon it as a foreign language and while the other children were learning grammar he was still struggling with his alphabet.Adequately chastised , i tried in vain to work on on my sons Hindi.I held his semester report card with dread and reeled with shock as I saw 95% marks in Hindi !!(Apparently the class teacher had been instructed to mark him only on what he knew and written !!)Till date the mystery of the remaining 5% eludes me..<br />
At the school sports day I had to go through the ignominy of my son leading the march past as a head boy of the primary section!He was the only one looking Left , away from the grandstand as he had been instructed to turn his eyes towards the Chief Guest ,who happened to be my mother..His Nani !!When I saw him standing on the victory stand receiving a prize for having stood 6th in the spoon and marble race I completely lost my marbles !!<br />
I fretted and fumed for the next few months , hopelessly helpless as the doting nanis made sure he continued to fool his way through school..</div>
shubhrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07459771604884990458noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821321156482274193.post-27981629021633055822012-09-03T01:24:00.000-07:002012-09-11T05:08:32.061-07:00Pre'cautious' Children<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
What i find absolutely fascinating about my Life in this slow paced town is, how people and situations ranging from delightful to ludicrous present themselves at my doorstep at regular intervals.They trigger off a chain of linked memories, akin to an atomic reaction of sorts.<br />
Just the other day, young parents , seeking admission for their 2yr old son stepped into my office.The mother with a very resigned attitude consigned her rather detached self on the couch as the child gambolled around the office.The father refused my many offers of a chair and shuffled around his son with a nervous sort of energy, reminding me of a skilled basketball player preventing his opponent from scoring a basket!<br />
All this activity , at such close proximity was making me a little dizzy and i asked the father firmly to let the child be and sit down !The gentleman shook his head with such fervour that the head almost detached itself from the shoulders.He told me that a few months back his son had dropped a TV(!?!) on his head as a result of which his parietal bone had registered five cracks !!The neurosurgeon who was summoned by the distraught parents was greeted by the child, with a tight slap across his cheek..Needless to say that it took no further tests to declare the child 'normal', by the much traumatised doctor !!<br />
This incident took me many years back,when my friends son had tied a rug around his shoulders and jumped off the first floor balcony of their flat.This overenthusiastic Superman was super fortunate that the groundfloor residents , had put out their mattress to be aired , which broke his fall and dislocated his arm !!Indignant at his inability to fly and displeased at having injured himself this boy then proceeded to demolish the doctors chamber ..When the doctor had , had enough of the son and hysterical mother, who kept insisting her child had a concussion , he lifted the child , from the waist , held him in the air and yelled'Maam you may have a concussion , I may have a concussion ...but your child DOES NOT have a concussion!!( The 6yr old Superman is a Fighter Pilot today ).<br />
I too have been a victim of such a senseless experiment as a young mother.My younger son ( his misadventures are legendary) in a tearing hurry to join the ranks as Top Brass or more likely in an attempt to outshine his older brother, drank up Brasso as a two yr old..He was rushed to the hospital for a stomach wash and fortunately his guts survived his gut churning experiment ..My older son ( His wisdom is legendary ), was extremely envious as he thought his brother would not need a bath henceforth and would shine if given a flannel cloth rub down !!!! <br />
A word of caution to parents of very young children and parents to be.That bundle of joy, who comes shrieking into this world, is actually announcing the arrival of 'Hazmat'...So please handle with extreme care and be vigilant at all times...</div>
shubhrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07459771604884990458noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821321156482274193.post-14498413741083029712012-08-19T23:29:00.001-07:002012-08-19T23:29:16.027-07:00Misfired<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
A couple of weeks back,at around 1.30am,my state of art , inbuilt thermostat sent out a cerebral alarm that all was not well with the temperature of my room.I woke up to find that the AC of the room was working but the lights had gone off.A glow from the crack under the door of the adjoining room, made me reach a logical conclusion that the lights of my room had tripped.I dragged my mentally switched off self to sound the night guard on duty to check out the mains.As i got into the lobby i saw menacing flames and smoke billowing out of the guest room!!<br />
I knocked furiously at my fathers (the only other inhabitant of the house)door, which to my utter dismay was locked.I then did an' Insane Bolt' towards the front door, hysterically shouting for the guard.(For some inexplicable reasons, my fathers main criteria for employing a night guard is that he should be pint sized, pea brained and totally committed to sleeping on duty).Not getting a response, inflamed at his absence,i entered the burning room with a wet towel wrapped around my head(The Towering Inferno , had been my favourite movie as a teenager) to open out the windows, shouting out to people to switch off the mains.Fortunately the guards , zero watt brain had lit up enough to register a short circuit, and he switched off the mains.The other staff too had woken up and as i unlocked the door , a motley crowd in various stages of undress and panic trooped in.We put out the fire with a few buckets of water.As i stood transfixed, registering all that had happened I felt a splash of water on me, dampening my already dampened spirits.Indignant, i looked back to see my father at the doorway (almost 14 feet away from the source of fire) , with a small mug looking totally perplexed!.<br />
Apparently, after hearing a lot of commotion in the house, he had woken up at some point of time and as always someone who likes to help and be actively involved with the ongoing proceedings , had procured a mug of water to douse out the fire.Needless to say that his spatial and aiming skills are as unreliable as the electrical circuit of our house !!<br />
As we sat out gloomily in our garden at 2.30am , waiting for the smoke to clear out of the house, i realized that my fathers reaction was very akin to that of the police in hindi films, who arrive at the scene of crime or disaster after an unlikely hero (in this case ...yours truly) has saved the day..My soot covered ,damp self chanted a thousand 'ohms' of gratitude ,for having averted a major calamity......</div>
shubhrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07459771604884990458noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821321156482274193.post-4962103313385459912012-08-19T04:19:00.003-07:002012-08-20T07:22:40.441-07:00Miss-Reputed<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Eight years back, when i started my school , it was a well thought out ,conscious decision to give the school a simple Hindi name.I was not going to succumb to the local fascination of exotic names like 'Delightful Daffodils','Blooming buds','Cheerful Cherubs' etc and twist the tongues of my toddlers at the very start.<br />
However, nothing had prepared me for the rather misplaced fondness for spoken English, prevalent amongst the literate parents of this town.I was often told by well meaning guardians that it was my jokey nature and smiley face that endeared the children (I felt like a series of badly illustrated emoticons).Once, on being told that the child had yet to acquire a name, a simple query from me asking as to how they address her, got me a prompt reply 'Chanakyapuri Colony '!Not to be deterred i asked what they call her..'943......007!'(My predicament was akin to a lawyer who is asked by a grim looking judge to rephrase the question as its misleading!).<br />
A father once told me ( very earnestly ),that my PLAYHOUSE was considered the best in town and he wanted the best exposure (!?!) for his daughter.Indignant as i was, i refrained from telling him that with this kind of reputation his daughter would be 'overexposed' !!Few nights in a row,I dreamt of myself in a garish 18th century Bordello..A set straight out of'Duchess and the dirtwater Fox'. Believe me, such statements can be very insidious at a subconscious level!!. <br />
A somewhat genial compliment like'Aapki evergreen aur Global personality ki sab tareef karte hain' made me feel fat!I often wonder as to how exactly did the aam junta perceive me?! Even my usually overactive imagination fails to comprehend and my environmental friendly Self starts spinning around its axis in utter confusion..Maybe its my 'Dynamite ' personality which gives rise to such an 'explosive' reputation.<br />
I have decided not to dwell on it much and enjoy the provincial fame for as long as it lasts...<br />
</div>
shubhrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07459771604884990458noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821321156482274193.post-6449345646518844712011-04-07T23:14:00.000-07:002011-04-08T07:52:37.485-07:00A Mov(ie)ng ExperienceA few weeks back, as I changed out of a perfectly decent casual attire into a semiformal traditional one ,my son who was visiting me asked,'Werent you supposed to go watch a film?'.'Yes', I replied.'Mother, what is that weird smelling thing you are applying?'Mosquito repellent ,I quipped.As i proceeded to drink a large glass of orange flavoured 'Glucon -D',I saw my son looking puzzled and starting to punch on the keys of his laptop rather aggressively..(I am sure he was googling 'progressive dementia'!)<br />
My pre-movie preparations complete, I left the house to watch 'Patiala House'.I must apprise my readers ,that i have only ventured out twice in eight years for a film in this town,more as a social obligation than for a cinematic experience.Unfortunately i have had the dubious distinction of passing out , both the times before the movie started!I was adamant on not making this a hat-trick and had no intentions of stealing the show from right under the charitable noses of the patrons !!<br />
I reached the movie hall and was received by the President and members of the Club screening the charity show.The President greeted me warmly and gave me a reassuring hug , whispering into my ears'You will be allright'.Another , very diplomatically remarked that she had not seen me for a while and hoped i had been keeping good health..A dear family friend , who had missed the film twice on my account, told me she was carrying orange sweets and a bottle of Mirinda in her bag !!<br />
Sheepishly ,i climbed the steps of the hall.On entering the theatre,I was deluged with a sea of familiar faces.Prominent citizens of the town, my ex, present and future parents, my ex, present and future children, my ex and present staff and innumerable family friends..We were well into the credits by the time i finally finished with my social rounds..<br />
I was just settling down in my assigned seat , when a lady in front of me shouted out to her friend not to occupy J5!Apparently, the seat slided up and down on its own and had the cushioning ripped off so one could actually feel the iron bars (OUCH!!)I found myself nervously jumping on my seat and checking the reclining mechanism (which did not work ).I sat upright , without complaining...I was going to last through the film and enjoy it !!<br />
Just when i had started to make sense out of the nonsensical happenings on the screen, I was blinded by a bright spotlight on my face! I was rather confused as to why the usherers were using spotlights instead of flashlights in this town.I was informed that it was the cameraman from a local TV channel covering the event !!<br />
Half way through the film, suddenly there was a lot of tittering and excitement amongst the audience.Fearing , a local politician/ senior bureaucrat making a habitual late entry , i looked towards the entrance.I saw a few people carrying huge cartons..Packed boxes of snacks started getting distributed .Loud cries of approval and disappointment followed.I was negotiating my snack pack in the dark when I found a huge tray bearing soft drinks perched on my head, as the viewers in the back row helped themselves and passed on the glasses at a leisurely pace !!!My protests fell on deaf ears..Several more interruptions later (power failure, announcement of lucky draw winners etc..)the movie finally ended..<br />
I left the movie hall with a broad smile on my face..I realized that 'going to the movies', a regular outing anywhere in the world is an event to be experienced in my small town !!shubhrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07459771604884990458noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821321156482274193.post-44217292602826747132011-02-20T01:07:00.000-08:002011-02-24T10:41:08.329-08:00Wanted-TLCA couple of weeks back ,my father made an unusual request..that of a cellphone instrument!Alarmed, i immediately set out to fetch the BP instrument, simultaneously questioning him on his need for the much loathed cellphone.Sheepishly he informed me ,that he needed to go mobile as both the LL numbers were out of order.Apparently, while digging up the roads in order to broaden them the workers had erroneously chopped off the telephone cables and narrowed down our communication options considerably.Since i rarely use the LL i consoled my father saying that communication was a very small price to pay for Development!It took all of 5 days and daily persistence to repair my fathers severed LL(lifeline..)<br />
A few days back,my smugness evaporated and i found myself steaming as i realized that my cellphone had been disconnected!I sent out the most capable and resourceful staff i have to put me out of my misery.My persistent queries were answered by a BSNL official..'Hamne Kolkata baat ki hai aapka number phans gaya hai!'.While the world is rejoicing the birth of new phone technologies and Apples brilliant innovations,my town is struggling with a 19th century Exchange where numbers get stuck !!Moreover, it took a stray call after 3 days to realize that it was only my outgoing calls which were barred!!My sorrow swelled up like the'Yang Tse' river.Finally all the recorded messages stating'this number does not have an identity','this no. has ceased to exist,' it seemed had made me ceased to exist for all my friends and family.<br />
This weekend after a drought of calls , i headed for the LL to talk to my son in the US.Once again it was not working.This time 700mts of cable had been pilfered.I was not at all perturbed, on the contrary rather proud of my small town .While the Nation is dealing with its multi crore 2G scams, the people weighing the pros and cons of Congress vs Progress and with all the eruption against corruption..this town like a small Gaulish village was dealing with simple everyday petty thefts !!!<br />
I sincerely think that the early 70's with its manual exchange where the telephone operator asked for the 3 digit 'Number pleej', was a more comprehensive and sure way of communicating in this part of the country.<br />
As things stand today, I am in dire need of TLC(Telephone-LL or Cell)..With my phone now being used as a camera and a juke box, maybe i should just capture the moment and dance may way through the crisis..After all i am in Neverland, from Graham Bells invention to the idyllic world of Tinker Bell-not bad at all !!!!!shubhrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07459771604884990458noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821321156482274193.post-70908506748826801982011-02-19T21:11:00.000-08:002011-02-24T10:35:14.011-08:00Dumb Belle...Einstien said that'Imagination is intelligence having fun'.Well i am known to have a lot of fun but i do fear it has little to do with my intellect !!Lately to my dismay, i have noticed that the grey matter is getting covered by an impregnable layer of soot.The fact that i work with preschoolers is not helping either.I have regressed to being a child in every which way.It is a very happy albeit a mentally challenged state to be in!<br />
Once considered a very bright student of math, now at the mention of 'Calculus', i dimly recall a character from my favourite comic book.I invariably cringe when my son and a dear friend discuss books, effortlessly recalling details down to the publisher and the edition and i am struggling with the title and author of a recently read one !I knew the situation was grave and the 'brain drain' had reached gutteral levels ,when at the gym i reached out for the dumb bells and the treadmill refusing to raise the bar.<br />
Sometime back, a friend and well wisher, tired of my lamenting had suggested i take to playing 'Bridge'.It would take care of my time as well as keep me mentally agile(I do feel he was making some sort of a statement here!!).Never to bypass an opportunity which improves my quality of life or mind ,i took on 'Project Bridge' with utmost commitment and sincerity.<br />
It took me five minutes to download the tutorial and forever to upload it in my head!My love affair with the game started instantly.I took down notes, quizzed myself, played against robots who reported mechanical failure as their Artificial Intelligence could not match my non existent one , played against novices and got abused via cyberspace.In short , i had taken to the game like a half dead fish to murky or oil spilled waters!! Whenever i thought i had made some headway , the game got trickier, revealing another level , another facet!<br />
As mentioned earlier ,my brain responds to only simple,anything complex threatens to shut it down.All self help books had led me to believe that one should live for the moment.In Bridge this is akin to certain death.Here you have to think about the past, the present and the future in one single moment.Once again i was faced with the dilemma, of whether i should keep my life simple and abandon this game or pursue it relentlessly ,regardless of the fact that it was doing little to improve my cerebral status. As always i took the 'Middle Path' and have taken to Kibitzing ( watching a game, in Bridge parlance).<br />
I find myself back to square one..But i will not loose heart or club myself , but call a spade a spade and someday shine like a (crazy!?!) diamond.I am sanguine there will be a Bridge over these troubled waters soon..<br />
PS. I have recently taken to writing with my left hand,.My rudimentary knowledge of pedagogy and physiology tells me that it develops the right side of the brain related to creativity !!shubhrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07459771604884990458noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821321156482274193.post-48626915446902042782011-02-14T04:00:00.000-08:002011-02-24T10:28:55.729-08:00On Love....There are some who walked with me,<br />
<br />
some who walked past..<br />
<br />
There are some who stayed on,<br />
<br />
some who did not last..<br />
<br />
Sands of time have blown many a footprint away,<br />
<br />
but the impressions are embedded deep within my heart...<br />
<br />
I have lost some to life,<br />
<br />
and some to death..<br />
<br />
But i believe in love,<br />
<br />
And will do so till my very last breath..<br />
<br />
There will be many seasons under the sun,<br />
<br />
But none that i will ever regret.....shubhrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07459771604884990458noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821321156482274193.post-84049318223521393532010-08-24T00:48:00.000-07:002010-08-26T11:12:53.962-07:00My Friend 'The Alchemist'....A TributeIt was not with shock but a sense of closure that i received the news of my friend passing away.Magnanimous as he was, he had given all of us, who cared for him , time to prepare ourselves for his final departure.As always , he remained isolated in his suffering, which he faced with great fortitude and dignity. But nothing had prepared me for the shadow which cast over my within, on getting the news.I remember, once on having argued vehemently against his statement that 'grief is unneccessary on Death',he had smiled at me indulgently and told me that i was blessed with a rare sensitivity and generosity of spirit,and someday i would figure it out(he had this habit of making radical statements and then inspiring you to apply yourself ,think and figure it out !)..I know now, what he meant was, that we are so preoccupied with our personal loss that we take away the worthiness that belonged to the person when he/she were alive .Even in Death( which is inevitable) we have to rejoice Life!!<br />
I called him the 'Alchemist' for the chemistry graduate he was, (IIT Delhi,Princeton) and for the spiritual companion and guide that he had become..I last spoke to him a few months back.Anguished by his feeble voice and pain i had cried out WHY???Gently, he had said,"Think of it this way , how many people in their lifetime get an opportunity to experience the love and caring of all those associated with them..I have the good fortune of getting a glimpse of the legacy i am leaving behind".That was Ravi,at 50 he had the wisdom of the hills.<br />
To my music loving 'rocker' friend i say.....<br />
Ledzep(his net pseudonym) , you have found your 'Stairway to Heaven'...Enjoy the gig buddy!<br />
To the cricket lover i say...<br />
Your inning was short, not for lack of skill or will to play on, but because the umpire made a very hasty decision!<br />
To the film critic , a student of film and media(Mass Comm, Jamia Milia) , i add..<br />
Your vision was acutely perceptive, your script eclectic your execution , unique and non conformist!<br />
To the one who loved books i say...<br />
Your biography was not voluminous but meaningful and rich in its brevity and content!<br />
To the chemistry teacher who loved his subject and students , i say..<br />
You have influenced and inspired so many young minds, put them on the path to find their own 'Pot of Gold'.You were truly the 'Alchemist'!<br />
To the Thinker, and Spiritualist i say...<br />
Go explore the 'Alternate Universe', at leisure my friend..Its gain is our loss!!<br />
To the devoted father i say...<br />
You taught them well,you will live on in them and from where ever you are, always watching over them!<br />
For my friend ,i quote a few lines i had written a few years back which he liked..<br />
'Like my young wards , i am spellbound when a beautiful flower suddenly appears my way.<br />
I am delighted by the colors that abound and the fragrance which fills my senses.<br />
When the flower starts to wilt, i dont cast it away , but preserve it gently in my book of thoughts.If perchance ,i come upon that page, i take a while and once again savor all the moments when the flower was in its full bloom, and.... Move On....'<br />
PS..YOU WILL BE MISSED...shubhrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07459771604884990458noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821321156482274193.post-13240005463323364822010-08-18T00:07:00.000-07:002010-08-18T00:07:14.429-07:00My Wayward National LeadersThe past few weeks has seen me,like most Indians outraged at the absurd levels of corruption preceding the CWG, making the headlines.I personally felt that at 63 the Nation was displaying the energy of the old and the wisdom of the young.My observation seemed more or less accurate as i witnessed an impromptu, unrehearsed and spontaneous drama ,an in house production by my preschoolers on the occasion of Independence Day yesterday!!<br />
15th August, like every year saw me greeting my little wards indulgently,as they trooped in as National leaders (4 Jawaharlal Nehrus , 2 Indira Gandhis, a M.K Gandhi ,Bhagat Singh etc etc.)There were few excited patriots dressed in white kurta pajamas and of course as it happens every year, a few 'liberal, apolitical, followers of the 'Non Cooperation Movement',( much to the despair of their enthusiastic parents), in civvies..<br />
As is customary, i went in to check on the children and settle them down before we started the celebrations.I noticed that 'Gandhiji' was sandwiched between a sulking Indira Gandhi and a 'hangdog' looking Bhagat Singh. ( The real Bhagat Singh too would have sported the same look, seeing the state of his beloved country and his sacrifice going in vain).Kasturba Gandhi,sat far away from M.K.Gandhi , not even acknowledging his presence!!(Not surprising, Gandhiji was a great leader but a rather difficult and demanding husband).A very spiffy Jawaharlal no.1 sat next to a very graceful Sarojini Naidu .J.Nehru no 2 scribbled on the blackboard( a rough draft of 'Discovery of India , i presume!!).Subhash Chandra Bose looked completely lost ( rightly so, the mystery of his being lost and located deepens with every researcher..)The regular patriots ,were the most comfortable and active of the lot, as they did not have a role to play and did not have to live upto any expectations ...So they pranced around the room ,waving their flags and shouting 'Jai Hind ' from time to time.In short , the stage was set.<br />
The action started with a loud war cry from 'Gandhiji, who to our dismay had turned violent and was brandishing his stick rather menacingly at Indira Gandhi who had patted his head and Bhagat singh who had put a finger through his glasses which did not have a lens!!My staff moved quickly, (we are an extremely vigilant task force trained to handle such attacks especially on 'Important occasions'!)and extricated the walking stick from a rather aggressive Gandhiji and diffused the crisis.A very sad Gandhi,threw away his glasses and started weeping silently with his head tucked between his bent knees.(As i consoled him i saw no point in explaining to him that our 'Father of the Nation'too must be reconsidering his non violent stance and really wanting to beat some sense into the leaders of today!)..<br />
Meanwhile our dashing Jawahar no 1 was sprawled on the floor most inappropriately, throwing a real tantrum!Sarojini Naidu had taken away his rose ans was now sitting chewing on the rose petals!!(Panditji, however fond he was of Sarojini Naidu would have found her public display of affection ,'politically incorrect' and reacted !!).My innovative staff moved in swiftly and somewhat managed to pacify an indignant Nehru , by tucking a rather tacky plastic tulip in his buttonhole!!(Very reminiscint, of the famous' Indian Jugadh'.)<br />
Fearing , a deeper National crisis , arising from more differences of opinion, we fast forwarded the proceedings, calmed our agitated leaders and managed to lead a Peace March for the flag hoisting!I looked on with immense pride as a very disciplined and mature motley of 3yr old, leaders patriots and the 'aam junta', sang the National Anthem ,and performed other patriotic songs with great dignity and enthusiasm..<br />
Completely exhausted, i reflected over the mornings proceedings and realized ,that our country and its people ,may be far from perfect, have glaring flaws ,are completely chaotic but we do manage to overcome adversities and 'Rise to the occasion'! JAI HIND !shubhrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07459771604884990458noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821321156482274193.post-72625732537534399232010-08-09T06:26:00.000-07:002010-08-09T06:26:15.528-07:00Forget And ForgiveThe much touted, often preached'forgive and forget' has never made sense to me as i personally think that it is unneccessary to hold anything against anybody in the first place.BUT,as a parent to forget(in the middle of nowhere)an adult over 6ft son, i am told by all, is unforgivable!<br />
First, a brief insight into my second born sons',first rate habits.Eversince he was born, if left idle for more than 5mins he goes into'stand by' ,longer than that invariably he switches to'sleep mode'.On vacations we have to put up with some sort of a heap of human form lying untidily in some part of the house, dead to the world!Our natural anxiety makes us check on his vitals from time to time.My maternal instincts,many a times have considered putting him on a 'drip' fearing a malnourished child.Other than that, he is the only person i know, whose laundry basket contains clean and dirty clothes.His apartment is known to have reached such critical levels of (in)sanitation, that the building had to be evacuated and fumigated! In the kitchen he is a hazard to himself and mankind, and for some strange reason takes 'baby aspirin' for severe burns!To cut the very long story short, lets just say, that he has turned out exactly how i have brought him up to be 'highly individualistic'!It is no surprise then,that, he was the one chosen for an experience which only the script writers of 'Home Alone' and 'Everybody loves Raymond' could think of...<br />
A few years back,when i was visiting the boys in the US,we were invited to my nieces Graduation.After partying the whole day , we excused ourselves and left early as we had to leave for California on a week long road trip.<br />
I settled my somewhat 'high spirited' and weary self on the front seat of the car for a rather long uninspiring drive.My younger son , as is his habit,consigned his wallet, phone and other such essentials into my bag,put on some music ,stretched himself out like a boa constrictor on the back seat and switched on his 'mute' button.We made a brief stopover at a gas station and moved on.I promptly dozed off and my elder son (probably reflecting on the complex philosophy of existentialism to keep himself awake ) drove on , as the most alert member of a rather sluggish family.<br />
I was awakened by the shrill sound of the phone ringing and a conversation which ended in my son saying rather animatedly'Hold on , we are just turning around'.A little confused at this sudden change of plan, i asked my son the reason.He told me to look at the back, which i did and to my <br />
extreme horror saw nothing !!!!!!!Deep in thought,with very ambivalent feelings and in complete silence we retraced our route.Without any warning, my elder son started chuckling and then laughing hysterically, not believing that his most frequent dream had come true!?!(Both my boys, for reasons best known to them,have fantasised with alarming consistency and are almost obsessed with the idea of being an 'only child'!)<br />
All this while, my younger son feeling totally abandoned,was riding probably the worst emotional roller coaster ride of his life at the gas station!He had returned from his very secret and private visit to the restroom to find the car missing.It took his idle brain, sometime to register that he had been left behind.The many disadvantages of relinquishing responsibility of personal possessions at the first instance dawned on him.He narrated his tragic circumstances to the lady at the gas station to borrow her phone and call up the brother.She apparently remarked incredulously'Your own brother and biological mother have left you ????'<br />
On reaching the gas station after almost two hrs(we had travelled a distance of almost 80 km)i ejected out of the car to give my warmest ever hug to my coldest ever son!Giving the nature of our relationship,the 'killer' looks were not translated into action.The elder brother(giving the nature of their relationship)was not spared.I was aghast to hear my sons most colourful repertoire of multilingual abuses!!(I realized he had grown up , for as a child i had only once heard him call his brother a 'bloody basket'!!)<br />
Fortunately, this appalling drama of sibling affection ended with Act 1 itself as the lady from the gas station came running out to greet us.Gleefully she exclaimed'Man i have to see this family'!(I think 'dysfunctional' was omitted deliberately).We gave her our broadest and fakest ever smiles(vanity runs in the family, and we want to look our photogenic best when on public display!!)<br />
After a brief family huddle ,we huddled into the car.My elder son showing extreme maturity and putting his grievances aside( to be dealt with at another more appropriate time and place) requested the younger brother to keep this a 'family secret', which of course never happened as in the next 1 hour every one he knew on this planet was informed !!<br />
PS..This post is meant as a public apology to my son, for having abandoned my special 360' mothers' vision when he was 10!shubhrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07459771604884990458noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821321156482274193.post-67957543172821597112010-08-03T00:33:00.000-07:002010-08-03T02:31:06.951-07:00Black Out QueenA few days back i was jolted into consciousness by a loud 'THUD'!It took me a while to comprehend that it was 'my' head which had thumped hard and it was 'me'that was lying ,rather awkwardly on the floor..I lifted my battered , bruised Self, called for help and a BP instrument..All those who are marvelling at my composure, must be made aware that I have the dubious distinction of being titled the 'Black Out Queen' by the family.<br />Many years back,i had found myself similarly sprawled in front of a shop at a local market!A crowd had gathered around me and i could hear an experienced bystander saying"Bhenji(?) ko Miranda pilao"!(in India we have this rather widespread epidemic of renaming certain things, like..espresso coffee is express coffee, similarly mirinda, an orange soda is often referred to as Miranda).My son who had accompanied me was standing in one corner shedding copious amount of tears, as he was convinced his mother had rather dramatically, literally and figuratively 'Dropped Dead'!Rather embarrassed at having made a public spectacle of myself, my bruised body and ego,made a somewhat hasty exit back to the car.My son ,very indignantly asked me 'Ma what do you think you were doing?"..My feeble state did not allow me to tell him that i was definately not 'swooning' over the new range of toiletries at the rather uninspiring 'daily needs' store!!<br />Once attending to my mother who had undergone 'angioplasty', i had found myself with a drip,lying on the attendants couch with my anxious mother attending to me, her recently unblocked arteries threatening closure once again..A couple of years back,making a rare public appearance at a local clubs' charity show of 'Rang De Basanti', i passed out in front of all the distinguished citizens and the cameras!As i was (un) ceremoniously carried out , it 'hit' me 'hard' that my 'Basanti' act had completely taken the edge off Aamir Khans 'colourful' performance!<br />But the top honours goes to an incident which happened more than a decade ago in a small cantonment of Punjab..My system, as it had done, many a times in the past, went through its temporary state of shutdown and once again i went through the celestial drama being played out at daytime(aka as seeing stars and facing total eclipse !!)<br />I was alone at home, with a gurkha 'sahayak'in attendance..In my subconscious state, i could sense that i was being dragged,on the floor, from the study to my room, with someone holding one finger each of both my hands!!(propriety prevented the johny from lifting me up )..My omnipresent survival instincts, fearing two fractured fingers , alongwith other injuries sustained, as also not willing to go through the indignity of being dragged like a sack of potatoes, managed to stand and walk on my own, only to pass out again on reaching my bed..I have no idea how long i lay unconscious.When i finally came around, i found a tearful gurkha standing at the edge of my bed asking me 'Mensaab doctor ko phone karoon?'!! I passed out once again ...in horror and amusement.<br />Till date, i wonder how much time our sincere sahayak had given me and himself before he could call the doctor , if i had not gained consciousness on my own !!shubhrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07459771604884990458noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821321156482274193.post-8688537350285982622010-07-30T01:23:00.000-07:002010-07-31T02:19:20.848-07:00My Affair with 'Camille'In the recent past,'house lizards' have become the bane of my existence. A couple of months back there was one crawling on the floor next to my bed, with a certain sense of belonging which irked me immensely.If i can respect their space and have not taken to crawling on walls in extreme frustration , heat or as adventure...why should they be taking a leisurely stroll around my room!<br />I shared my angst with my friends , and my very quirky friends(who display their extreme affection and sense of bonding by excavating dreadful memories , long buried in the mental archives)reminded me, that i have always had an affinity to these cold blooded creatures.They succeeded in bringing back the horrors of the most bizarre experience of my Life!!<br />It was one of those days in college, when my friends threatened me with dire consequences,(not getting my breakfast for me in the morning,sharing their notes etc)if i bunked the scheduled lecture.True to ourselves , we arrived late to find the lecture room full.The back benchers as a result were left with no option but to occupy the front steps.Five minutes into the class i felt something crawling up my leg( flared trousers were in fashion and i was unfortunately, trendy).I brushed away the crawling object and made some cheesy remark like "something electrifying went up my legs' to a friend sitting next to me.Our professor , distraught by our front row presence and distracted by the shuffling, told us to pay attention or leave.We were practicing 'reverse psychology' those days so we stayed put..<br />After the lecture and lunch i retired to pursue, what i till date like doing best, Sleep!!!I felt a little uncomfortable , not surprising since we were in the habit of partaking enormous amount of food(anorexia was unfashionable in the 70's )which led to tight clothing become tighter,so i decided to unbutton my jeans.As soon as i unzipped... A head of a 'Chameleon' popped out !!!!!!! What i went through cannot be put into words only imagine the most earth shattering 'SCREAM'!!'Camille' the prot'agoni'st of this affair , also reeling in shock and going through its own emotional trauma lay inert on the floor..<br />I stripped off my trousers and started running around the room..My two roommates screamed even louder and then froze..In my frenzy i made an exit from the room and started running in the corridor of my hostel.One of my friends, with a certain presence of mind , or rather propriety chased me like a matador with a counterpane.<br />So here i was running in all my immodest glory, with my friend trying in vain to cover me with a bedcover..Hearing all the commotion ,our chowkidar ( one of the two males in our all girls hostel)made an entry.My rather petite , docile friend suddenly took the form of a champion wrestler, lunged forward , wrapped me in the bedspread and pinned me down..Meanwhile the hostel warden came down , fearing a catfight in progress she tried to seperate us in complete vain( my all of 35kg friends' sole purpose in life by then had become to protect my outraged modesty).Mercifully my 'frozen with terror' friend and the only other witness , thawed out enough to narrate the incident..<br />My asphyxiated self was finally extricated from the confines of the bedcover and the determined weight of my friend..<br />The hostel quack , doused me in savlon and put me under sedation..I alternated between hysteria and sedation for the next few days..Life slowly crawled (UGHHHHH) back to normal..A lot of , 'unmentionable' jokes (at mine and Camilles expense) did the rounds for several months...<br />PS... I know the readers will have a lot of questions to ask me , believe me i dont have the answers!!!shubhrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07459771604884990458noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821321156482274193.post-38054292629827161042010-07-28T23:48:00.000-07:002010-07-29T00:19:06.880-07:00Dead Man TalkingToday morning at 8am,when my father came to deliver the morning newspaper (his own passive and devious way to check whether i am awake or not),i was concerned to see the somber expression on his face.With great gravity he informed me that one of my ex students rather young father had expired.<br />I went into instant mourning...My three yrs old cherubic face with twinkling eyes, his mothers ever smiling countenance,the very quiet persona of the deceased played like a black and white flashback of a tragic hindi film.Tears welled up in my eyes at this untimely departure of the sole breadwinner of the family.With a very heavy heart i dressed(i noticed later that my grief stricken being, subconciously had pulled out a white attire from the closet),unable to eat my breakfast i went up to the school.After my morning rounds,in an emotionally devastated state i called up the widow.A male voice answered, on politely inquiring about the identity, i got the second shock of the morning...It was the 'Dead Man Talking'!!!I hastily put down the phone and quickly reflected over the events of the morning.It did not take me very long to figure out that my father had done it again!!In the past one year this is the third time that he had done away with perfectly healthy,still in their prime ,very alive people..<br />A few months back he had informed me that a very dear family friends'son (a childhood friend of mine)had expired.Deeply saddened,i asked him if he had called.I was told that the fathers phone was not answering and he would try again.Later that evening, he sheepishly stated that the 'dead son ' had picked up the phone to announce his 'alive 'fathers death !!<br />I am now much wiser and have decided that any news being delivered with my morning newspaper needs to be crosschecked,for that is the time father is without his hearing aid and in a slightly mentally dormant state as he wakes up at 4.30am..My word of advice to all those who love me and receive the news of my 'expiry' from my father before 9am in the morning, please call me and react only after i have confirmed the news!!!!shubhrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07459771604884990458noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821321156482274193.post-67202427125100358522010-03-21T22:02:00.000-07:002010-03-24T00:01:56.918-07:00Miss PronouncedG.B.Shaw once stated that'England and America are seperated by their common language'.If he were alive and adventurous enough to travel across the length and breadth of our country, i am sure he would be a trifle confused at the legacy left behind by the British, making English the first language of the literate Indians today.The accent and pronounciation prevailing across the country would undoubtedly leave him mother tongue tied.<br />I have lived in several States of the country and in terms of mispronounciation, Punjab and Bengal topped the charts..In a small town of Punjab i had the 'plaiyer'of interacting with some S-kool teachers.I was told that while naming the parts of the body , a five yr old child pointed to his leg when asked where his 'tongue' was.Tung in punjabi means the leg!!On another occasion while being taught plurals a child retorted the plural of duck was ducka!!To my amusement a Bengali clerk was always handing me a 'Shit of paper',and believe me he was not referring to toilet paper!<br />When i started my school six years back , i was on the lookout for a facilitator.The applications i receieved and the interviews i conducted convinced me that the top honours belong to my State of Residence..<br />Mostly all applications i received were addressed to 'Dear Sir/Madam,as the case may be!They were signed off with your humble servant,genuine regards as also requestingly yours!The one which caught my eye was someone 'humbly offering her humble self to your gracious self to put into services as you please , I will obey and live up to all your expectations'!!For a longtime i wondered if it was a proposal or an application!!<br />An English hons graduate from a local college had cited 'Bedminton' as one of her hobbies.Her favourite author was 'Sexspeare'!She told me she liked'Romeo and Juliet', and when i asked her what really appealed to her about this play she mumbled..'means, it is like Laila Majnu'!<br />When i asked a History topper to tell me the historical significance of the town, she failed to comprehend the question and after delving into her mental archives for a longtime came up with what can be termed as the briefest answer in history 'Buddh Bhagwan! <br /> After many such responses I decided to keep my line of questioning simple and related to the school,so i asked one of the candidates to recite their favourite nursery rhyme.The rhyme went like this..'Chubby chiksh, deempel cheen';Rojee leepsh tith weetheen.Curly hayer bhery fayer. eyej are blue lubhly too,teachers pate is that you, yase yase, yase!! My whole being cried out No, No No..But looking back i am grateful for this recitation as it introduced me to the rudiments of 'Bihari mispronounciation'.<br />In this State people throw sleepers at each other and fall aslip.The most popular animals in the joo are ziraffe and jebra!The favourite mode of transport is a bhan.I had a girl who spelt her name as 'Niva', her parents had named her 'Nibha'.The brightest from this State is capable of winning a Nobel Prize only if he pulls up his shocks! If you really want to seek vendetta just ask them to say'she sells ,sea shells on the sea shore'.<br />I have taken it upon myself to work with my staff on their pronounciation and everytime they pick up a book and read i have a 'hurtattack'!shubhrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07459771604884990458noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821321156482274193.post-45725026268027991712010-03-17T23:06:00.000-07:002010-03-24T00:16:59.245-07:00'Cog'nitive AbilitiesThere is a certain static, a buzz in the air during examinations in this state which is second only to the election fever which grips everyone during assembly and general election.Not surprising since we are talking of the most politically volatile State with a defunct education system.Fortunately the present government has been proactive and are taking desperate measures to revamp the system.<br />Till a few years back, those assigned with invigilation duty were sent off by a tearful family with instructions that 'life comes before duty'.A similar scenario was witnessed in the household of an officer assigned on election duty when the family went into mourning and neighbours got together for a preemptive condolence session!<br />However ludicrous it may sound i am just stating facts.Over the years i have heard appalling tales of mass 'cogging'.The wards of the examinees burnt the midnight oil practicing the art of almost writing on rice and ensured that their loved ones were not taxed and got a goodnights sleep.More audacious ones sat next to the candidates armed with weapons and books to help them through the farce called 'board examinations'.There are unrecognized colleges without a faculty that enroll the students and then send them to a local recognized college to attend classes!!There have been incidents of an SP being taken to task as his wife had acquired a degree from the local university without taking exams as also a prominent citizen arrested and put behind bars for printing fake degrees at his brothers' printing press!!(They were not caught by vigilant authorities but were booked due to personal and politically motivated vendetta!)<br />There are reforms being made now.All the teachers employed by the state government face termination if they are not present to take the classes and cheating is now a criminal offence in the State!This has resulted in a certain tragic hilarity..I have a friend who has been teaching English for over two decades lamenting that she remained exhausted as she had to be in college from 10am to 4pm.I was once completely distressed to see that my drivers son had failed his inter exam,when i expressed my displeasure the driver told me it was not the sons fault it was because he was not allowed to cheat! A couple of years back i heard gunshots from a leading college which is located right behind my house.I was told it was the parents of the students taking exams, protesting as they were not allowed to help their children!!The protest got unruly and the police had to resort to teargas and fire shots in the air to disperse the crowd.'The shot in the air' apparently fatally injured one person(a flying in rage parent, i presume!!)<br />Very recently ,i saw the most absurd video on a local tv channel.Brains and brawns had been replaced with acrobats and gymnasts!There were shots of two young 'spidermen' climbing three floors to throw a chit into the classroom.A young boy was running on an 8" narrow parapet of a neighbouring house with a bamboo pole with a chit stuck at the forked end. After strategically placing himself in front of the assigned window he tapped the pole and someone from inside extricated the slip of paper!!!<br />Is there no way to change the mindset of these people, to let them know that rather than risking their life and limb or go to juvenile prisons it requires just a little effort to sit and study, take exams but most imporatantly to make them aware of the true meaning of education!!shubhrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07459771604884990458noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821321156482274193.post-17267463384226610802010-01-20T23:03:00.000-08:002010-01-25T05:45:23.059-08:00WANTED-The SunIt is very painful to see the Mighty Sun struggling hard to make an appearance.The athiest in me is moved by its plight and has started praying fervently to Nature to put its Elements in order and work in harmony again.<br />My Life too stands eclipsed!I am unemployed for one..The schools have been closed down, and now i am anxiouly waiting for the state administration to thaw out.<br />Physical and mental health is bearing the brunt as well.'Suryanamaskar' performed to the mute and uninspiring concrete walls is proving to be totally ineffective.Deficiency of Vitamin D is on the anvil,not to forget the cervical pain due to too much clothing and a backache due to the horizontal position one has taken to in the past few weeks!The only object not missing any warmth is my overused hot water bottle!!<br />A few days back , i found myself precariously seated between two blooming dahlias inside a flower bed. The only place i could spot the sun, with my eyes which have got unused to natural lighting.<br />To add to my tale of woe, my father is taking his love for a sport to a whole new level.Yesterday, when i asked him , from the confines of my bed ,how the weather was...I was delighted to hear 'Bright and Sunny'..With a song on my lips and music in my heart i moved my weather beaten being into quick action.Dressed in a canary yellow pullover to festively herald 'Basant Panchami' and the sun i stepped out.To my utter dismay i faced a completely fogged out bleak morning! I stood their perplexed,asking my gardener and driver rather accusingly, 'Dhoop kahan Hai?'They looked at me very sympathetically,probably assigning me to the famous'Kanke mental hospital',in the neighbouring state of Jharkand.I was informed that there had been not a ray of sunshine since the morning! My father came out at that very moment to leave for work, feeling extremely betrayed, i asked him to explain his weather miscast.He casually stated that he was talking about 'CHITTAGONG'(The Venue for the ongoing cricket test match between India and Bangladesh!!)<br />I watched him drive away ,as i looked on with some very ambivalent feelings..For a longtime i stood , in my canary yellow pullover,eyeing the rusty,'spring' of a broken appliance lying in front of me, the strains of 'Jai Mata Di' ,in the background, hoping 'Saraswati Devi', would make it easier for me to learn the strange behaviour of my kin..shubhrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07459771604884990458noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821321156482274193.post-72569965398775838522010-01-20T05:12:00.000-08:002010-03-17T06:10:59.090-07:00Yoguru jiIn the recent past, my father known for his very moderate views has taken a rather extremist stance on the benefits of Yoga.He is probably the most ardent long distance admirers of Baba Ramdev.If i told him i had a headache, stomachache, insomnia,work related stress ...he would state 'do Pranayam'!The fact that he remains bald and hard of hearing notwithstanding, i did notice he had lost a lot of weight and was physically agile for his age.<br />In my pursuit for a 'Zen' like existence in this otherwise hard to exist place i decided that yoga should become a part of my daily regime.It was doing away with a lot of birds without throwing the proverbial stone .Make myself , physically and mentally fit, pass my time constructively and make my father happy..<br />The big advantage of staying in a small town is the availability of affordable home tutors, and the ever helpful residents..I was soon informed that a yoga teacher had been organised and that he would be coming over to my place sometime during the week.<br />A couple of days later, i was awakened from my afternoon siesta and informed that 'yoguru ji' had come to meet me.My semicomatose state had me wondering how a japanese buddhist tourist had strayed into the house. I asked the helper to ask the visitor the purpose of his visit! I jumped up from my bed as i was told that he had come to teach me yoga!<br />Standing before me was a thin gentleman , of medium height,a very long neck with a pronounced adam apple a square jaw and a poker face.(I am deliberately omitting estimating the age as i am told that yoga renders you ageless!!).He bent down in an ostrich like fashion, with his hands folded and his elbows forming perfect triangles facing east west..'Pranaaaam', he said in a deep voice which had a reverberation of a gentle rolling of drums afterwards.My own pranam seemed hopelessly inadequate and incomplete in view of the very elaborate greeting being performed in front of me!<br />We sat down for a vartalaap(conversation), where i was asked about my avastha(age), if i was roggrast( suffering from any ailment).After it was established that i did not have madhumeh(diabetes),raktchaap(blood pressure),reedh peedha(backache)and many such incomprehensible and unpronouncble ailments( which had me doubting and biting my mother tongue, which is hindi!!), he agreed to take me on as his 'shishya'.<br />It was decided that we would meet everyday at 4.30pm.(I thought everyday was excessive but i was told rather curtly that'vyayam mein vishraam uchit nahi hai'!)that it is not advisable to give a break to exercise..<br />My gurus punctuality i had not contended for either.Once when he arrived at 4.40, he proclaimed 'vilamb ke liye shama prarthi hain'(he was apologising for the delay).Another time there was incessant rain, the town had come to a virtual standstill and i was rejoicing, for finally i could sit back and vegetate at 4.30..As i ventured out to tell the helper to make me some tea, i was stopped in the tracks by a hooded apparition in black!!On closer inspection i saw it was my yoguruji offering his elaborate greeting..I dragged my restless mind to the peaceful regime of yoga.<br />I have unfortunately lost out on my yoguruji to my irregularity and his popularity .He is now being felicitated by all the local clubs of the town and is also the most sought after male as all the unfit women of this town want him!!!<br />I met him a few days back and as he bent down to say 'pranaam', i realized i missed the discipline of my everyday yoga and also my hindi was not as 'sashakt' as it had become thanks to him!!shubhrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07459771604884990458noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821321156482274193.post-18405923512722095332010-01-17T04:31:00.000-08:002010-01-18T06:04:51.608-08:00Musically ChallengedOne of the major drawbacks of residing in a smalltown is the lack of options after workhours.All i did till a few years back is read and think.Excess of both proved to be detrimental.My reading glasses changed numbers faster than a lotto machine and well too much thinking almost saw me in a strait jacket.To combat the problem i read some more and thought even harder!!It dawned on me that i needed to develop interests other than reading and introspection.I homed down to learning music.I love music (listening to it)and its always known to be therapeutic.<br />The next logical step was to find a music teacher.As i sent out feelers to the good samaritans of the town ,i found myself face to face with an 'inconvenient truth'..simply put... my earlier aborted attempts at learning music and singing came back as a flashback of a horror film!<br />I was 8 yrs old when my mother(an accomplished singer) enrolled me in a music school of some repute.I do recall my first day, when our guru started us on sa,re ga ma...i was wondering how disjointed hindi alphabets qualified as music and i repeated ha,he ha,ha..The class was amused my guruji definitely was not! After a few weeks, i saw him rendering an alaap AAAAAAAAA.His eyes were closed, his mouth could take in the whole universe and with his 3 strands of hair flying,as he vigorously nodded his head.. i thought it was the funniest rendition ever and laughed a very spontaneous and musical HAAAAAAAA.I never went back, i think i was expelled.<br />My next attempt was at the age of 14 in my boarding school. By now i desperately wanted to sing and was very envious of all the nightingales who sang at various school competitions.My dream of a performance came true when i was selected for the school christmas choir.We were at least 50 of us singing Valerie, partridge on a pear tree etc.All was going well ,till our music teacher told us that we have to change our pitch!Till then ,my pitch had only altered when i was truly animated and i was sure that,that particular shrill sound did not qualify for singing.To my dismay i saw all the singers around me effortlessly switch their pitches while i vascillated between the tenor of row 1and 2 to the soprano of 3 and 4 to something which was uniquely mine.Fearing that i was going to be deprived of my first and only stage performance i lip synced my way through.To add to my misery, two of my dearest friends were very good singers.Being a very bright science student i sat glued to them whenever they sang waiting for the process of osmosis to take place.Needless to say it was an exercise in futility!<br />I accepted defeat and my musically challenged status in my first year college.Having lived in an all girls boarding school for 6yrs i was ecstatic when i stumbled upon a young man all of 18 yrs old who found me really worthy of attention and affection.We had one thing in common ,our love for music..Spent hours listening to it , talking about it presenting cassettes to each other etc.Till one day ,which at hindsight can only be termed as some misplaced sense of overenthusiasm i decided to sing 'Annies song' to him.I distinctly remember sitting in broad day light on the steps of the Lodhi tomb unaware of the impending doom, singing'you fill up my senses like a night in a forest'.The mortified expression of the object of my affection told me i had assaulted all his senses ,he silently walked me through the daylight of lodhi gardens and vanished forever.I am quick(?) on the uptake and realized, that i could be cerebral but never musical!<br />As i made this rather uncomfortable journey into the past, i decided that the music teacher who tutored 3yrs old at my playschool was apt for the task! He had the patience ,limited music skills and i was convinced that only he could remove my vocal block.We were to meet 4 times a week at 6 in the evening in the furthest soundproof room of my house!<br />Determined to succeed i put my heart and soul into my singing..gargled,chewed 'mulatti' ,did riyaz everyday and thought i was doing a good job.The problem remained with the sur, taal and multitasking.I was handling a casio and my vocal chords.If i got the sur and taal right couldnt play the casio, if i got the casio right my sur and taal suffered, but not to be deterred i sang on..After two months i acquired a harmonium.Now there was another task to be accomplished...sing, play the keys and pump air into the instrument!! Unable to accomplish this feat, i bullied my sir to pump while i jabbed at the keys which were more complicated than the casio.By now my Sir was looking a little stressed out,he would tell me very politely from time to time that i was not concentrating on playing the harmonium and my singing( believe me i was)!!I was genuinely happy with my singing and it was taking care of my time.6 months lapsed and neither me or my sir had quit!Until one day i was informed that my seemingly healthy music sir had suffered a heart attack and been advised complete rest! <br />Till date for some inexplicable reason i feel responsible for his medical condition!shubhrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07459771604884990458noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821321156482274193.post-53458349604485842112010-01-15T21:55:00.000-08:002010-01-16T23:36:10.462-08:00My Dramatic BirthI am often referred to as a 'drama queen' by many a friends.As a protaganist of a very dramatic life it is hardly surprising.The script is a trifle convoluted though and does not conform to any genre.The likes of Shakespeare, Wilde,GB Shaw would regret their limited repertoire and applaud the playwright of my Lifes drama for its sheer ingenuity.Act 1-suspense,Act 2-tragedy,Act3-comedy etc.Well, the confusion and intrigue started at my birth itself.<br />I was born at Doon Hospital,Deharadun on the 25th of March 1960 at 2am.I was declared dead at 6am 24th of March 1960.The least exaggerated and the most dramatic statement i will probably ever make !The story narrated of my expected DOA by my grandmother goes like this...<br />One week before her due date , my mother realized that she had not felt my movement for over two days.She informed my grandmother, who with all her experience( she had 10 children in her kitty) realized that something was amiss.On the evening of the 23rd of March the anxious duo reached the hospital.The gynaec pressed down the stethescope on my 'to be' mothers stomach and could hear no heartbeat, feel no movement! (No ultrasounds in the 60's ,no devious ways of female foeticide either !It was the era of flower children).A team of doctors was summoned ...the prognosis was grim .My tearful grandmother was informed of my ill-fated status and my mother was induced to go into labour.<br />My grandmother cheerfully sat at my mothers bedside and tearfully ran out of the room in grief from time to time( a la Nirupa Roy in zillion films).A messenger of very bad news was dispatched to fetch my father who was posted in Roorkee at that time(thanks to the primitive communication in the 60s, mercifully the pigeons had been replaced!!}.The nurses of rm no 1 were in deep sympathy as they watched my beautiful 20 yr old mother go through her labour ,blissfully unaware of the storks changed plans!<br />My poor mother after almost 20 hrs of labour was ready to deliver.(C-Sections were carried out in extreme emergencies.Since my mother was going to deliver a stillborn, it was considered unneccessary to make her go through one!)At the unearthly hour of 2am, a very grim hospital unit were taken aback by a robust cry of a healthy female child of 6pounds !! <br />I am told an ecstatic nurse went yelling in the sleepy corridors of the Doon Hospital..'No 1 ka baccha ro raha hai'!!!My grandmother wept copiously( tears of joy this time).My father arrived in the wee hours of the morning and promptly fainted on hearing the news..(I think he is to date reeling under the shock of his first and only born child)..<br />So, what went wrong or right???My birth almost created medical history.It was later discovered that my mother was developing a tumour alongside of me.The tumour weighed down on me restricting the movements and as also drowning out my heartbeat!The tumour also ensured that i remained the only offspring of my parents.<br />Looking back , i feel that the way i have shaped up is directly related to the event of my birth.Born lazy ,(Could have kicked harder!), a survivor( how many stillborns live to tell their tale??),inadvertently agonize my loved ones( my moms labour, my tearful grandmother my fainting father!!)and ultimately make everyone really happy wherever i make an appearance,( the jubliant nurse, my joyously tearful grandmother, my fainting with relief father!!!!)..<br />No explanations are needed when i state that i love life and look forward to it every moment as an adventure, a very precious gift bestowed upon me...shubhrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07459771604884990458noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821321156482274193.post-34219452370751613612010-01-14T00:48:00.000-08:002010-01-14T04:21:42.441-08:00A hysterical hysterectomyIt is no state secret that i have always longed for a daughter. I am not a hardcore feminist and love both my sons dearly but i do believe that a certain female sensibility is essential in every home. This fact was driven home in abundance as i went through my hysterectomy recently.<br />As soon as my sons were apprised of the condition i got very concerned calls from both of them.The younger one assured me that he would love me even if i grew a beard and my voice cracked!Without doubt the most male chauvinistic member of the family he naturally assumed that the male hormones would take over!!As also the procrastinator of the family he failed to get an appointment at the american embassy for his visa and then sent out an emotionally charged letter for an emergency appointment citing his mothers impending surgery and himself as the sole caretaker.He killed two birds with one stone...got his appointment as also obliterated the existence of his elder brother.(something he has been trying to do eversince he was born!)<br />My elder son reached a couple of days in advance to take me for a pre-op check up and tests.The wise and knowledgeble one of the family he looked visibly distressed at the mention of a chest xray.He told me he was sorry that i have to go through a mammogram (!!??!!)<br />The day of the surgery dawned and my entire family in a rare gesture of solidarity and punctuality drove me to the hospital.They deposited me in the room and went on to make inquiries as to where thay could have the best 5 course breakfast in town!!!I had to remind them not to go very far.When they returned i was on a drip and a nebulizer as i had a mild cough.The younger one stood perplexed at the edge of my bed as i was sitting up with my mask and asked me why i was not passing out with the anaesthesia being administered!!Banging my head against a wall seemed a better option for passing out..<br />Post surgery , my aunt , a gynaec who was present in the OT went up to the room to inform them that all had gone well and if they would like to see the uterus.My sons told nani to look at them, the finest specimens to be lodged in that womb and they were celebrating as there was no threat of another heir !!!<br />Back home, i received some very sporadic attention and affection from both of them.On one such occasion ,with both of them cuddled on either side of me told me that my insides are in mourning for their birth(pun intended) companions had been extracted.Since i have had my gall bladder also removed , my elder one quipped that it was truly recession time for my organs and that my appendix must be really insecure.<br />Few days later , the night before my sons appointment i told him to carry the discharge summary incase they check since his appointment had been expedited due to an emergency.He told me he was going to take along the real proof preserved in a jar to show ..<br />I was beyond reacting by now but i did go to sleep every night dreaming of a daughter holding my hand and telling me that "all is well"...shubhrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07459771604884990458noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821321156482274193.post-10129881409999185112010-01-13T06:51:00.000-08:002010-01-13T23:39:10.382-08:00A Post from Within...3Like everyone else i go through my share of low spells and when they pass and i am buoyant again i am completely intrigued at the working of the mind and heart, at the disharmony and then the perfect synchronization.<br />Just like the high and low tides of the ocean emerge and submerge in the vastness and tranquility of the ocean ,our emotions are similar, they too are contained in the sublime ocean that lies within.A life of acrimony or harmony is ours to choose.I believe we suffer because we sacrifice simple at the alter of the complex.Lifes' uniqueness lies in that no two consecutive moments are the same.We overlook the beautiful moments as we are resistant, resentful and reluctant!There is a calmness , a quiet joy to a life lived in gratitude.<br />We seek love , when what we need to seek out and breakdown are the barriers we have built against it.Much has been said about giving but its equally important to accept graciously what is being offered.<br />I have made my way through this labyrinth of ups and downs many a times and now that i am aware that only i am in control i rest easy.When the waves come crashing , i do not get swept away or view with apprehension ,nor do i wait to get consumed as a bystander on the shores..I travel deep into the ocean to experience and then wait for the tide to ebb...shubhrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07459771604884990458noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821321156482274193.post-82697442517874724852009-12-14T22:14:00.000-08:002009-12-15T22:00:29.497-08:00A Mis(s)fitIn this world, everyone is going through an identity crisis of some kind or the other.In my town the crisis is that one is easily and always identifiable.The likes of CIA and Mossad would blush at their incompetence if they knew that every citizen of this town carries a detailed dossier of everyone else in their head.If you were to have a temporary lapse of memory and dont remember my name or address , just say single and school, you will find yourself at my doorstep!!<br />When i started my school, i was always questioned about my personal life.I was offended, indignant and would curtly steer the conversation away to the child seeking admission.Soon i realized that these people were not being rude just provincial.I became more tolerant and forthcoming .The first time i defined my marital status the lady blushed a beetroot red, was thoroughly embarrased and uncomfortable.I felt sorry for her.One parent in a similar state of hyperventilation managed a feeble sorry. Told her, she neednt be as i was definately not!!<br />Soon it was rumoured that i was a NRI.I was working, spoke english, was divorced, even wore western outfits..I could only have been residing in an alien country!In the past few years , no direct personal queries are made,its not that the residents have been given a crash course in social etiquette, but most likely by now all the inhabitants are aware of my marital status and probably many other details which i myself may not be aware of!<br />Now , that i am a very respectable and accepted member of the society , i am invited for every possible event in this town.From births, weddings, deaths, inaugurations, exhibitions, school sports days, annual day, debates ...the list is endless. Inviting me is inviting confusion for listed below are the ways the invites are addressed to me..<br />Mrs.Shubhra S<br />Mrs.Shubhra G<br />Mrs Shubhra<br />Mrs.Shubhra S G<br />Mrs Shubhra G S<br />Mrs Shubhra ji<br />Mrs Madam Director (huh!!)<br />I often wonder when the town is going to accept me as a Miss..Perhaps never,so i guess i will just give it a miss..:-)shubhrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07459771604884990458noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821321156482274193.post-70735102541560413432009-12-10T21:37:00.000-08:002009-12-12T12:48:48.733-08:00My 'Spirited' Co-PassengerEvery year, during the fortnight which is observed as 'Shraadh' by the Hindus, my town is deluged by over a lakh of pilgrims who come to perform 'Pind-Daan'.It is believed that by performing this ritual we set the souls of our ancestors free forever.<br /><br />The incident i narrate, pertains to a journey i undertook during this time of the year..<br /><br />I boarded the Rajdhani from Delhi and settled down in the lower berth of a AC2Tier coach.I am a frequent traveller on this route and thus tend to be a little skeptical about my co-passengers.The train left Delhi on time and i was pleasantly surprised to see rest of the three berths unoccupied.During 'Shraadh', this is very unusual as the Gaya quota is full on all the trains.<br /><br />Anticipating a comfortable journey, i put my feet up on the vacant lower berth and settled down with a book.Ten minutes later, a handsome young man of about 30 came up to me and told me that the lower berth was reserved by him for his father,he and his wife were in another coach and if i would be kind enough to inform the TT.I was informed that he was going to 'Gaya' to perform the'Pind-daan' for his father!!For a few years now i have had this nagging doubt that i have become hard of hearing, so i did not pay much heed to the discrepancy in the statement.<br /><br /> About 15 minutes later this articulate,seemingly well educated and obviously affluent man came up again and proceeded to place a bright yellow silk stole with a green and gold border on one end of the berth in front of me.That was his father whose final rites he was going to perform!<br /><br />Needless to say, i was completely spooked.First i retrieved my feet back to my own bunk as a mark of respect for my fellow traveller.Next i took the bedding i had dumped and placed it back on my berth.I could not concentrate on my book as inadvertently i found myself gazing at the silk remains of the 'die hard spirit'facing me. After finishing my tea, i decided to give my overactive imagination some rest and dozed off.. <br /><br />When i woke up , i saw that the front seat was now occupied by an attractive, solitaire laden, plump lady.The son and daughter- in law had managed to get their seats changed so they could all travel together as a family ! 'Father',had been unceremoniously moved to the berth above mine.I was relieved, as i was no longer the sole guardian of the father, as he may have got pilfered enroute.<br /><br />At night ,the son called for the attendant and asked him to get a bedding for the 'father'.The attendant asked where the father was and he was told that he would not be able to see him but he was there.I wish i had recorded the expressions of the attendant ,he was ready to jump off the fast moving train.Wanting to get him out of his misery and dilemma, i told the confused man that these people were going to perform'pind-daan' and this was also a part of the ritual.He was not convinced but did oblige.<br /><br />All night long i wondered what was it that made even the educated, partake such extreme acts of absurdity.My thoughts and the uncanny presence of a'Spirit' ensured that i had a rather fitful night.<br /><br />Early morning , before the train reached Gaya, the attendant came to wake us up and collect the bedding.Very reverently he whispered in my ear' Bauji uth gaye kya, bistar le loon'?(has the father woken up, can i collect his bedding).This was the clincher! I sat their and guffawed..shubhrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07459771604884990458noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821321156482274193.post-39105891815883856022009-11-29T20:32:00.000-08:002009-11-29T20:55:02.767-08:00A Post from Within...2Living Alone...<br /><br />Life becomes one of deep contemplation..<br />Introspection, acceptance, the only salvation..<br /><br />Life is a non-arguementative discussion with existence,<br />Thoughts of varying depths haunt with a certain persistence...<br /><br />Life becomes a reflection of the Soul,<br />a chance to redeem, a reprieve, oneself on parole..<br /><br />Life becomes an awe aspiring act of Self Discovery,<br />A mandatory convalescence, a joyous recovery.<br /><br /><br />Life becomes one of diminishing needs and enhanced contentment,<br />Of Self Reliance, Self Discipline and a certain Detachment..<br /><br />Life has to be made worthwhile..<br />To challenge limits and walk that extra mile..shubhrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07459771604884990458noreply@blogger.com2