Today I saw a truck with the following gem:
Ram yug ne diya doodh, Krishna yug ne ghi
Kalayug ne daru diya, soch samajhkar pi.
Though this is nothing compared to what my brother and I noticed on the back of the auto when he was visiting me. On the back of the auto it was written in bold strokes:
Sunny di ghaddi
Upar wale ki full kripa.
On an unrelated note:
Question:
How many men does it take to put the shades on street lamps in JNU?
Answer:
Five + 2 supervisors.
Appa is so enamored of the five men putting one shade on the street lamp that he has given up the idea of joining the civil side of the CPWD. He now thinks that the electrical side would be better.
Friday, March 28, 2008
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Sastrigal on the move
Long time ago, when we were living in Delhi, there was a sastrigal named Kailasam. He was the official sastrigal for us. His duty was to collect the monthly subscription, tell us about the festivals occurring that month, and officiate events held at our homes. Kailasa sastrigal however was no ordinary sastrigal. There was a deep fire within his belly and his one point agenda was to somehow get to USA. Every month, therefore, besides learning about the festivals occurring that month, my mother also learnt about his attempts to get to USA. He would drink the coffee that my mother gave and grumble to her how difficult it was. Mother would listen with half a ear. Those days Kailasa sastrigal moved about in a motorbike.
My periappa got acquainted with him when he moved back to India from US/Canada. The first question Kailasam asked him was:
"You have a car, don't you?"
Without batting an eyelid, my periappa replied:
"Car, eh? We are not even Iyencars."
But periappa was impressed. He predicted that Kailasam would one day not only get to US but marry an American too.
The first part of predication came true. By then Kailasam was the official priest for my periamma too. And both Amma and periamma rejoiced when he came and told them that he is going to US.
Kailasam moved to the Pittsburgh temple. He did not marry an American. Instead he came back to India and married a girl his mother had chosen.
When I was in the US, I got to know that he had left the temple and started freelancing. And presumably he is still freelancing in Pittsburgh, driving a car instead of a motorbike, contented and happy to have achieved his dream.
I remembered him when I saw the article on freelance priests in the Washington Post.
My periappa got acquainted with him when he moved back to India from US/Canada. The first question Kailasam asked him was:
"You have a car, don't you?"
Without batting an eyelid, my periappa replied:
"Car, eh? We are not even Iyencars."
But periappa was impressed. He predicted that Kailasam would one day not only get to US but marry an American too.
The first part of predication came true. By then Kailasam was the official priest for my periamma too. And both Amma and periamma rejoiced when he came and told them that he is going to US.
Kailasam moved to the Pittsburgh temple. He did not marry an American. Instead he came back to India and married a girl his mother had chosen.
When I was in the US, I got to know that he had left the temple and started freelancing. And presumably he is still freelancing in Pittsburgh, driving a car instead of a motorbike, contented and happy to have achieved his dream.
I remembered him when I saw the article on freelance priests in the Washington Post.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Amma sets a new record
One picosecond.
Let me explain.
The train was 2 hours 15 minutes late. Amma scrambled out of the taxi as soon as it came to a stop in front of the house. She went in, found Ravi, and had a cozy chat while I paid the taxi and dragged the luggage in.
I opened the door and amma pushed past me. She switched on the kitchen light and opened the kitchen door. One look and her nose wrinkled. Appa asked: "How is it?"
Speechless, my mother turned away and started removing her slippers.
I do protest at the treatment. After all, I had lined the shelf with new paper, cleaned the stove after cooking, and scrubbed the tiles.
One picosecond. That is all it took her to declare that the house was dirty.
Appa tells me that 40 days that they are planning to spend with me is not enough to clean up the house.
I give up.
Let me explain.
The train was 2 hours 15 minutes late. Amma scrambled out of the taxi as soon as it came to a stop in front of the house. She went in, found Ravi, and had a cozy chat while I paid the taxi and dragged the luggage in.
I opened the door and amma pushed past me. She switched on the kitchen light and opened the kitchen door. One look and her nose wrinkled. Appa asked: "How is it?"
Speechless, my mother turned away and started removing her slippers.
I do protest at the treatment. After all, I had lined the shelf with new paper, cleaned the stove after cooking, and scrubbed the tiles.
One picosecond. That is all it took her to declare that the house was dirty.
Appa tells me that 40 days that they are planning to spend with me is not enough to clean up the house.
I give up.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
The parents and Me
Whenever the parents descend down on me, it means hard work for me. First of all, I have to clean the house up. As the rest of the family (the parents, the brother, and the sister-in-law) have obsessive compulsive cleanliness syndrome, it means that I (who is fortunately free from this disorder) have to go to great lengths to clean the house up before they visit me. It is, of course, of no avail. My mother takes only one nanosecond to wrinkle her nose up and declare that the house is dirty. The rest of the visit is taken up by her attempts to clean the house to her standards.
The second item is the kitchen. Since it is in the able hands of Lata I do not have to bother about it usually. But before the parents come for a visit, I have to check that everything that they possibly need is present on the kitchen shelf. Then there are dispensable items like Tea and Coffee and Milk, which has to be purchased and kept in adequate amounts.
I was complaining to my father today as to how much of hard labour I had to put in to ensure that they do not have any cause to complain. My father retorted that he too had to put in hard day's work for this visit. Apparently, he has got tired of my objection to his hair which curls up if it grows more than an inch. Last time I said that I would get him a rubber band to tie it up so that he can look like a rock star. As my mother has got inexplicable dislike to the barber on campus, this time appa has prudently got his hair cut in Madras itself.
The second item is the kitchen. Since it is in the able hands of Lata I do not have to bother about it usually. But before the parents come for a visit, I have to check that everything that they possibly need is present on the kitchen shelf. Then there are dispensable items like Tea and Coffee and Milk, which has to be purchased and kept in adequate amounts.
I was complaining to my father today as to how much of hard labour I had to put in to ensure that they do not have any cause to complain. My father retorted that he too had to put in hard day's work for this visit. Apparently, he has got tired of my objection to his hair which curls up if it grows more than an inch. Last time I said that I would get him a rubber band to tie it up so that he can look like a rock star. As my mother has got inexplicable dislike to the barber on campus, this time appa has prudently got his hair cut in Madras itself.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
How (Not) To build a house
Continuing the Naugarh saga:
I stayed with Dr. S.P. Singh at Naugarh. Dr. Singh has been living in Naugarh for past 13-14 years, having decided to work with the villages in this area.
His house is on the Main Naugarh Bazaar street, above a kirana store. You enter through a narrow passage, which is unlit. Then you climb a steep staircase. And come to a verandah. The floor of the verandah is covered by grill so step on it at your own peril. On either side of the verandah are rooms.
On the left side is one long room, with no windows, that leads into another room. This is probably is the kitchen though you might not find any accouterments other than a place for washing utensils. In cases, like when you a women like me stays, it can also be used as a bathroom. This room is blessed with one window though you might not want to look out through it for all you would be able to see is garbage and a water pump.
On the right side are two more rooms and a balcony where you can gaze at the bazaar. These rooms too are without windows but thanks to the balcony you can have sunlight in one of the rooms.
There is no bathroom or toilet in this entire space. There is a common toilet downstairs, which is for the use of all the tenants. There are no taps and if you want water, get it from the water pump in the backyard.
I did not see the downstairs area but other than the store there is also living space for rent.
Each room is a house and available for rent. There are no leases to be signed and rent should be paid by cash.
This type of housing I should add is not an unique feature of Naugarh. I have visited Rekha's flat in Varanasi and found the same features.
I was puzzled by the lack of windows till I visited the village houses. Built of mud, there is only one entrance and no windows. These houses are high-maintenance, requiring repair after the rains, and every alternate day the floor has to be swabbed with cow dung mixed mud. But in the blistering heat, these houses remain blessedly cool. And in winter they provide warmth.
But when this windowless concept is transplanted into the city, where the houses are built with concrete, you get entirely the opposite effect. The houses, as the ones in Naugarh or Varanasi, are extremely hot in summer and shiveringly cold in winter.
I stayed with Dr. S.P. Singh at Naugarh. Dr. Singh has been living in Naugarh for past 13-14 years, having decided to work with the villages in this area.
His house is on the Main Naugarh Bazaar street, above a kirana store. You enter through a narrow passage, which is unlit. Then you climb a steep staircase. And come to a verandah. The floor of the verandah is covered by grill so step on it at your own peril. On either side of the verandah are rooms.
On the left side is one long room, with no windows, that leads into another room. This is probably is the kitchen though you might not find any accouterments other than a place for washing utensils. In cases, like when you a women like me stays, it can also be used as a bathroom. This room is blessed with one window though you might not want to look out through it for all you would be able to see is garbage and a water pump.
On the right side are two more rooms and a balcony where you can gaze at the bazaar. These rooms too are without windows but thanks to the balcony you can have sunlight in one of the rooms.
There is no bathroom or toilet in this entire space. There is a common toilet downstairs, which is for the use of all the tenants. There are no taps and if you want water, get it from the water pump in the backyard.
I did not see the downstairs area but other than the store there is also living space for rent.
Each room is a house and available for rent. There are no leases to be signed and rent should be paid by cash.
This type of housing I should add is not an unique feature of Naugarh. I have visited Rekha's flat in Varanasi and found the same features.
I was puzzled by the lack of windows till I visited the village houses. Built of mud, there is only one entrance and no windows. These houses are high-maintenance, requiring repair after the rains, and every alternate day the floor has to be swabbed with cow dung mixed mud. But in the blistering heat, these houses remain blessedly cool. And in winter they provide warmth.
But when this windowless concept is transplanted into the city, where the houses are built with concrete, you get entirely the opposite effect. The houses, as the ones in Naugarh or Varanasi, are extremely hot in summer and shiveringly cold in winter.
Friday, March 14, 2008
Lateness as a national character
I was asked to conduct Viva-voce for Practical examinations (yesterday and today) at Jamia Millia Islamia. The examinations were to start at 9am and as I was clueless about the location, I took a taxi. Given the state of the Delhi Roads, I left home at around 8.15 am and surprisingly, I was at Jamia at 8.45 am.
The laboratories were closed. The office was closed. No faculty was present. Only the students were loitering in the corridors, mugging hard.
I waited. And I waited. And I waited.
Finally, I saw a laboratory personnel and I asked him about the examination. He took me to the right laboratory where there were some more staff. They all asked me to be seated and assured me the faculty will be there very soon. The chief of the laboratory staff took his cell phone out and started frantically calling the faculty concerned.
The lowest pecking order, the lecturer, arrived finally at 9.15am. The examination started at 9.30am. The reader, or the middle pecking order, arrived at 9.30am. The Head of the Department arrived at 11.00 am.
Today I knew better. Or rather I thought I knew better. I went in to the lab exactly at 9 am. The Head of Department dropped in around 9.45am and asked me:
"You came early today also?"
No wonder the students, when they come to my classes get the shock of their life, when I refuse to let them into the classrooms if they arrive more than 5 minutes late. Not that it makes any difference to them. They go blithely through their life disregarding any respect for time.
The laboratories were closed. The office was closed. No faculty was present. Only the students were loitering in the corridors, mugging hard.
I waited. And I waited. And I waited.
Finally, I saw a laboratory personnel and I asked him about the examination. He took me to the right laboratory where there were some more staff. They all asked me to be seated and assured me the faculty will be there very soon. The chief of the laboratory staff took his cell phone out and started frantically calling the faculty concerned.
The lowest pecking order, the lecturer, arrived finally at 9.15am. The examination started at 9.30am. The reader, or the middle pecking order, arrived at 9.30am. The Head of the Department arrived at 11.00 am.
Today I knew better. Or rather I thought I knew better. I went in to the lab exactly at 9 am. The Head of Department dropped in around 9.45am and asked me:
"You came early today also?"
No wonder the students, when they come to my classes get the shock of their life, when I refuse to let them into the classrooms if they arrive more than 5 minutes late. Not that it makes any difference to them. They go blithely through their life disregarding any respect for time.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Naugarh
Naugarh is just like any other small town in India. Dirty with open drainage and apathetic people. How much does it take to wield a broom and clean the streets?
Long time back when there was a Maharaja of Varanasi, Naugarh was the last of his nine principalities. Hence the name. The area was rich in wildlife and the Maharaja loved to hunt. But the people from the plains were reluctant to live in the hills or have anything to do with the animals. Therefore, the Maharaja imported adivasis from the nearby kingdom. The adivasis came and settled down. Their primary job was, during the hunting season, to drive out the animals towards the Maharaja who could then kill them.
Today, the adivasis are landless. And without any jobs. There are 111 villages in this area and till recently were only approachable by foot. The naxalite problem has meant that police needs to move about. Hence, few of the villages are now connected by road. Of course this does not make the lot of the villagers any better. They are the easy target both of the naxalites and the police.
Long time back when there was a Maharaja of Varanasi, Naugarh was the last of his nine principalities. Hence the name. The area was rich in wildlife and the Maharaja loved to hunt. But the people from the plains were reluctant to live in the hills or have anything to do with the animals. Therefore, the Maharaja imported adivasis from the nearby kingdom. The adivasis came and settled down. Their primary job was, during the hunting season, to drive out the animals towards the Maharaja who could then kill them.
Today, the adivasis are landless. And without any jobs. There are 111 villages in this area and till recently were only approachable by foot. The naxalite problem has meant that police needs to move about. Hence, few of the villages are now connected by road. Of course this does not make the lot of the villagers any better. They are the easy target both of the naxalites and the police.
Sunday, March 9, 2008
Sonia and Mayawati
I was standing in front of a shop in Naugarh Bazaar waiting for the vehicle that was to take me to some of the villages. A woman came into the shop and looked at me curiously.
"Where are you staying?"
"Upstairs with Doctor sahib."
"How long?"
"I came yesterday."
"Where are you from?"
"Delhi."
Her eyes lit up:
"Delhi? Sonia's Delhi?"
I nodded. At least this encounter was better than the one I had in a village in Ghazipur district. Again it was a basti, I was seated on the charpoy looking at the attendance register, talking with the children. Vallabh bhai and Vishvesh bhai were standing further away. An old woman came up, peering through her spectacles, she asked the villagers something. They shooed her away as though she was a fly. But she persisted. When this happened couple of times, Vallabh bhai decided to intervene. Going up to her, he asked:
"Mai, what is the matter?"
Mai took a deep breath, and pointing towards me asked:
"Beta, has Mayawati come?"
Needless to say Vallabh bhai never lets me forget this incident.
"Where are you staying?"
"Upstairs with Doctor sahib."
"How long?"
"I came yesterday."
"Where are you from?"
"Delhi."
Her eyes lit up:
"Delhi? Sonia's Delhi?"
I nodded. At least this encounter was better than the one I had in a village in Ghazipur district. Again it was a basti, I was seated on the charpoy looking at the attendance register, talking with the children. Vallabh bhai and Vishvesh bhai were standing further away. An old woman came up, peering through her spectacles, she asked the villagers something. They shooed her away as though she was a fly. But she persisted. When this happened couple of times, Vallabh bhai decided to intervene. Going up to her, he asked:
"Mai, what is the matter?"
Mai took a deep breath, and pointing towards me asked:
"Beta, has Mayawati come?"
Needless to say Vallabh bhai never lets me forget this incident.
Saturday, March 8, 2008
Shivganga Express and Me
I once again took Shivganga express to Varanasi and back. The forward journey from Delhi to Varanasi was pleasant. The train was only one hour late. The return journey was pleasant too. The train was only 12 hours late.
Last time it was the dacoits, this time it was the Northern Grid Failure combined with the accident on the Delhi-Howrah track. By the time the train shuddered to a halt on the Minto Bridge (I simple cannot accept the Shivaji Bridge concept. Why can't the idiots in power understand that you cannot do away with history by just renaming things. OTOH, Shivaji bridge is better than Indira Chowk and Rajiv Chowk for CP)I was done with the train journey. I got down there and took an auto home.
The 12 hour enforced imprisonment in the train compartment meant that we all soon let down the barriers and started talking. The compartment had a nice mix of bunch of people from Europe/Canada, and Sri Lanka. There was a Buddhist student from Ladakh who missed his connecting train to Chandigarh. There was a chap who was appearing for an interview at Kajaria Tiles who missed his interview. The persons from Sri Lanka were doing a Buddhist tour- Gaya, Kushinagar, Sarnath- and were most unimpressed by Indians and their lack of cleanliness. The only thing they admired was the Indian Saree which apparently is much prized in Sri Lanka. They were worried that if the train got so late would they be able to do shopping as their flight back to Colombo was next day early morning.
The lady from Canada was originally from France settled in Canada. She was 68 years old and had decided to travel. She had spent last three months in Dharamsala teaching children. She was scathing about the Indian education as well as their lack of concern for the environment. She gave me her story book to read. I am done with it, you can take it with you was her comment.
There was a TT who snored his way through and woke up near Delhi to discuss about Jodha Akbar.
There was also a group of distributors from Robertsgang, Sonbhadra district, going on a vacation abroad.
Appa had the final word. When I got back home, he said that Shivganga and I do not mix well. The Railways, I think, have taken pity on my predicament. A Garib Rath Express is going to run between Varanasi and Delhi. Therefore, next time I am going to try my luck with that train.
Last time it was the dacoits, this time it was the Northern Grid Failure combined with the accident on the Delhi-Howrah track. By the time the train shuddered to a halt on the Minto Bridge (I simple cannot accept the Shivaji Bridge concept. Why can't the idiots in power understand that you cannot do away with history by just renaming things. OTOH, Shivaji bridge is better than Indira Chowk and Rajiv Chowk for CP)I was done with the train journey. I got down there and took an auto home.
The 12 hour enforced imprisonment in the train compartment meant that we all soon let down the barriers and started talking. The compartment had a nice mix of bunch of people from Europe/Canada, and Sri Lanka. There was a Buddhist student from Ladakh who missed his connecting train to Chandigarh. There was a chap who was appearing for an interview at Kajaria Tiles who missed his interview. The persons from Sri Lanka were doing a Buddhist tour- Gaya, Kushinagar, Sarnath- and were most unimpressed by Indians and their lack of cleanliness. The only thing they admired was the Indian Saree which apparently is much prized in Sri Lanka. They were worried that if the train got so late would they be able to do shopping as their flight back to Colombo was next day early morning.
The lady from Canada was originally from France settled in Canada. She was 68 years old and had decided to travel. She had spent last three months in Dharamsala teaching children. She was scathing about the Indian education as well as their lack of concern for the environment. She gave me her story book to read. I am done with it, you can take it with you was her comment.
There was a TT who snored his way through and woke up near Delhi to discuss about Jodha Akbar.
There was also a group of distributors from Robertsgang, Sonbhadra district, going on a vacation abroad.
Appa had the final word. When I got back home, he said that Shivganga and I do not mix well. The Railways, I think, have taken pity on my predicament. A Garib Rath Express is going to run between Varanasi and Delhi. Therefore, next time I am going to try my luck with that train.
Saturday, March 1, 2008
Back To Varanasi
There are two site visits pending. One is pending from six months so I am going back to Varanasi to do these site visits. The one that is pending is in Chanduali district which is also well-known for its naxalite activities. The parents have not forgotten the last visit. Therefore, this time I am traveling by 3rd AC. I do not know if that is a deterrent for the dacoits but if it makes the parents happy...Appa has also instructed me to leave all sorts of contact numbers. Of course this is all discrimination for I do remember when my brother (he was still in middle school) went off to watch some match at National Stadium without informing anyone at home. My mother simply sniffed and said that he would be back when it was time for dinner. I notice such leeways are not accorded to the daughters :)
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