Mobile Mania

Talking on the mobile is the latest fashionable mania in India. It appears that mobile users have suddenly unearthed, hitherto, unknown relatives, friends and acquaintances and, by some magic have developed such camaraderie with them that chatting has become compulsive, bordering on addiction. It is hard to understand how, all of a sudden, people have attained the traits of being jolly, friendly and inseparable from each other at least through the airways. Like a smoker who touches his pocket every now and then to make sure that he carries a packet of cigarettes, the mobile users may forget anything but their set. It is a common sight to see a group of ladies having a walk with mobiles in their hand. For some, the use of the instrument has become as essential, as eating and sleeping. It is always a mystery to me, who, on the other end is so free and available, to be ready to indulge in the craze at all times. This tiny machine has made inroads into our personal lives in an unwholesome way. It enables young boys and girls to fix their rendezvous with each other very conveniently, circumventing the prying eyes and ears of their elders. It has become a sort of status symbol for the modern teens. The mobile companies leave no stone unturned to lure the youngsters through their innovative advertisements. “Don’t you think this newly created bonhomie will soon be translated into ‘too much familiarity breeds contempt’ syndrome?” A redeeming picture however -which is observable- is the constant smile which plays on people’s faces while engrossed in conversing.

The other day I witnessed an actual maddening act, on the part of a motorcyclist that would provide a novel idea even to the stuntmen. The man had tilted his head to an angle of 90 degrees and ensconced between his bent head and shoulder, was the object of this discussion. In this dangerously precarious position, he was busy chattering to glory, totally unmindful of the grave danger; his idiocy was posing to himself and others. None dared to intervene, because of past experience of lack of support by other road users, and the fear of what the roguish offender may do to you.

Another uncommon , but surely the one, which would be ubiquitous soon, is the picture perfect scenario of two persons on a scooter, and the one riding the pillion, holding the mobile near the ear of the driver who was talking incessantly, as if there is no tomorrow. People glued to it on roads, pathways, parks, rickshaws or driving a four wheeler is too common a sight to be mentioned.

This little object has taken away the element of surprise from our lives. When my children ask me for some ‘navi tajji’ (any news), I smile and point out that talking on phone so very frequently does not leave any new thing to be shared. We no longer sleep over any news. It has to be transmitted instantly and the mobile provides the perfect chance by its easy proximity. The peculiar emotion associated with waiting and being patient is replaced by instant satisfaction. Likewise the visual media has robbed us of our peace of mind, 24x7 keeping us excited by flooding our drawing rooms with minute to minute news of the world.

One of the major gainers of this invention to my mind is producers of family serials which are churned by Television channels day in and day out. For the writers of the daily episodes it has become so much easier with the pizzazz of machinations and conspiracies hatched and executed within the four walls, thanks to the perennial availability and various misuses of this very instrument.

It certainly has become a potent weapon for extortionists, kidnappers and rogues of all types, to scare their victims to compliance of their demands by issuing threats with the simulated blood curdling pitch of their voice from anywhere, anytime.

No doubt this medium of communication has helped the growth of small businesses and many other benefits accrue through it. But the wastage of time in frivolous talk is no prudence and should be religiously avoided. All said and done, life without this petite wonder now is unthinkable!

Rain in the Mountains

I had come to the hills-Kumarhatti to be precise- to beat the heat of the plains. However, I was dismayed by the unexpected, unending dry spell. The morning walk was a stifling routine, sans pleasure; dust powdering the face and hair with the passing of every vehicle. Fortunately, last week of June proved blissful and heavenly for us and the withering vegetation on mountain slopes and sun scorched earth. For two successive days the rain gods showered their benedictions profusely. It drizzled, it rained and it poured. It was a much needed respite for wilting plants, shrubs and trees; yellow lifeless grass and parched soil. The spell of rain kindled life into tiny blades of grass which turned green overnight as if by a conjuring trick. The majestic pine trees regained their glory with pine needles exhibiting well rounded confidence. The hopes and prayers of hill people fructified and they got back their cheer and charm. Their hand pumps resumed pumping water and womenfolk were saved the back breaking chore of bringing water from distances. The dried up natural springs, water channels and rivulets sprang to life and beckoned the passers by, “Oh! Splash our water on your hot bodies and cool yourself inside out.”
The magic wrought by nature has to be seen to be believed. The refreshing walk after the rains threw a veritable visual feast of green shoots of plants and foliage which appeared suddenly and winked naughtily at us as if saying, “Aren’t you convinced now that this is Dev Bhoomi where gods and goddesses reside amongst simple, pious and uncorrupted people”. The lines written on the backs of their vehicles like jai Santoshi Ma, Bhawani Ma, Gango Ma, jai Shiv Bhole Nath and scores of others amply prove their unshakeable faith. The bounty of timely rains further strengthens theirs deeply religious beliefs. They express their gratitude through special prayers and midnight bhajan congregations. Many houses are afloat with tiny temple like structures on their roofs with red or yellow flags fluttering overhead.
After this, much sought after downpour, the tenements of locals looked washed and bright. The mood all around was upbeat and nothing could upstage the healthy, soothing and tickling cool of the weather, which was going to herald rejuvenation of man and nature in equal measure.
While lounging on the sofa and looking through the window, I could sense the hill slopes fully animated after quenching their thirst and having a tête-à-tête with the rain drops falling musically on the earth. While eavesdropping I could make out what the rain drops were murmuring to the slopes, “Don’t you worry, we would always be there for you to redress your grievances.”
Rains are the lifeline of agriculturists in hills. Over the next few days I saw neatly prepared small beds on the slopes being planted with rows and rows of tomato and bell pepper (Shimla Mirch) saplings and also seeds being sown for maize and other crops.
Since July the rainy season is in full swing. The rhythmic fall of raindrops lulls me into a wonderful feeling of inactivity filled with sweet day dreaming off and on. The sight of milky white sheets of clouds over the clear blue sky, after the rain stops and when sun tries to peek through the drifting clouds showcases a visual canvas of nature’s deft strokes. This game of ‘Hide and Seek’ between the sun and clouds is played many a time during the day. In the backdrop of approaching dusk the shapely tops of pines; swinging from side to side in the breeze gives the illusion of befriending the skies. The charisma of such wonders of nature instills hope in the human heart and leads one out of the furrows of day- to- day existence.
In hills rains have a distinct personality. Normally they come and go at their own sweet will. No warning is proclaimed in the form of rumbling and gurgling of thunder and flashes of white light of lightning. Even in the course of a single day the number of visitations of this beautiful entity can be counted. They arrive like a guest who is always welcome and is extended another invite before he departs. Unlike in plains it rains here in straight lines as if it passes through a mammoth sieve up above. Also it produces a soft and friendly musical beat minus slants and sweeps.
Thanks to the elixir of abundant rainfall, different varieties of flowers, bordering the flats have started blooming unannounced in a kaleidoscope of rioting colours in our complex. The journey from bud to blossom was sudden and short like a young girl’s developing curves and bright skin tone quite abruptly on attaining puberty.
Now and then, within minutes the whole area gets engulfed in mist, rising from the flanks of the mountains and visibility is considerably reduced. And at other times the outside is clouded with haze selectively and only parts of the scene are discernible. And then in no time mist is blown away showing everything so clearly once again. And one exclaims, “What a sight!! Is it Alice’s Wonderland? ” “How could Ruskin Bond not get inspired by such picture perfect natural settings for penning his inimitable short stories?”
In the midst of such splendour and indescribable beauty my head bows in gratitude for the munificence which nature bestows on us and my mind echoes John Keats’ line, “A thing of beauty is a joy for ever.”

Bond Wagon Pub.Tribune 25March2010

Bond Wagon
We are K. S.Sidhu and Mrs. M.P.Sidhu
Relationship: Husband and Wife
Time Together: 40 years
Same to Same: We were both in the same profession. He was teaching Chemistry at the University level and I was teaching English language and literature at the College level. We are retired now and we both are sticklers for perfection and believe in doing good deeds. Whatever we take on ourselves we put our heart and soul to accomplish it. We are wholly dependable and keep our promises. Though because of this trait we have been taken advantage of, but we carry on nevertheless.
We both love poetry and occasionally indulge in reading sessions together. Robert Frost’s “Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening” is his favorite poem and mine is A.H. Clough’s “Say not the struggle not availeth.” In Punjabi we fully savour Shiv Kumar Batalvi’s poetry - his magical and deft threading of words to express human pain, sadness, despondency and dejection intensely, lyrically and rhythmically.
Yet Different: Above apart we have opposite traits. Though he has mellowed down considerably with the passage of time, yet even now instinctively the man in him reacts in the negative to my opinions and assertions. It is another matter that he comes round to my view after some convincing. He is very intelligent and with his mathematical proficiency can manipulate numbers in his head whereas I fumble even computing vegetable bills. He is pragmatic and is ever ready to take up new challenges and is capable of bringing them to fruition. I largely evaluate the pros and cons of an action before embarking on it. He loves watching hockey and cricket on T.V. I almost skip the sports page of a newspaper.
Unforgettable Moments: I have many but I will share a few with you. On the day of our marriage-a long time back of course- immediately before the garlanding ceremony he presented me a bouquet of beautiful flowers. It was a pleasurable surprise and I was deeply touched as he had ordered it a few days back through somebody from a Chandigarh florist.
Other unforgettable moments are connected with our trip to Jammu and Kashmir way back in the first summer break after our marriage. We explored the heavenly valley driving in our Volkswagen, staying in rest houses and meandering through the exquisite gardens spread over Kashmir. For the first time we experienced staying in a house boat that too in the Dal lake of Srinagar.
The birth of our two children were the happiest moments of my life and most memorable. (M.P.Sidhu)
When I met her for the first time there and then I decided that I am to marry this girl. The other moment is at the time of the Doli ceremony when my daughter sat in the car with her husband to go to her in- law’s house I became so emotional that I cried profusely. (K.S.Sidhu)
Special Something: He is very, very special. He is my man ‘Friday’ and I am his most reliable assistant. When he fixes my leaking taps I stay at a calling distance to hand him over the wrench while he adjusts the washer at the right place. I hold the stool when he replaces my fused bulbs. When he hangs a picture on the wall I am at his side to pass the drill to bore a hole and also point out the marked spots-I can see them better from a distance- and then the hammer and the nail in the correct position to be struck in the hole. Consequently the job is impeccably discharged (unlike uncle Podger’s crooked effort).He is a sort of connoisseur in food tasting also and most of the time tells me accurately what is required.( M.P.Sidhu)
I am indebted to her the way she managed her professional and private life so very earnestly. (K.S. Sidhu)
Funny Takes: When she naively explains something very simple minutely I am amused but pretend that I am listening. (K.S.Sidhu)
Though he had been in and out of the kitchen many times yet would ask in a childlike manner what is for dinner, which makes me laugh! (M.P.Sidhu)
Wishful Thinking: “If wishes were horses beggars would ride” yet I can certainly state that I had had a wonderful life and absolutely no regrets. At the moment I only wish for his love, care and concern, nothing more and nothing less. (M.P.Sidhu)
I want her as she is! My only wish is she should work less hard and take care of herself more. (K.S. Sidhu)

2nd anniversary celebrations of Eternal University, Baru Sahib, Himchal Pradesh, India.29th April 2010. There was a grand function organised which included cultural events such as classical dance, musical medley,solo music performances, a farcical comedy'The man who marries a dumb wife' a skit in Hindi on the scourge of superstition and a Himachali dance ',Natti'. I was the master of ceremonies and incharge of the preparation and rehearsals of all stage performances. But with the grace of God and co-operation of team members the programme was executed meticulously to my immense relief.

Spring’s Bounties

Spring the king of seasons is at its peak at the moment. Vegetation which was smarting under the bane of intense cold is back to its full glory. It is amazing to see the change wrought by nature around the house and mesmerizing to feel the beauty unleashed by assorted plants, shrubs and trees.

Spring ushers the rebirth of nature and brings hope to mankind of better days to come. A poet has echoed this sentiment so aptly, “No matter how long the winter spring is sure to follow.”

Around my front lawn lilies are in a rage of full bloom. While enjoying the sight in the fresh morning breeze and closely watching them, I noticed an unbelievable nature’s marvel. There were many reed like stems sprung up almost unobtrusively-in a short span of time- with a stylish bud on top of each stem which has loosened itself into full blossom in three days, first a pair then the third and lastly the fourth exactly in that order.

The few rose bushes, which I have, display a riot of colour not in the yard alone but in my drawing room also. I am crazy about the sight and smell of roses. I carefully remove some partly blossomed ones, cut their stems at an angle and let them float in a wide brimmed glass bowl filled with water. It provides soothing aroma and a visual delight for days together.

Chrysanthemum plants are already showing signs of rejuvenation after the onslaught of winter. ‘Curry Patta ’bush has come up with glistening leaves and tiny white flowers on the ends of the branches which are attracting buzzing bees and flitting butterflies. In due course of time these flowers will mature into seeds and fall along side the bush resurfacing in almost a crop of baby saplings in the rainy season.
I am an aficionado of growing household herbs and have two potted Aloe Vera which I grow for medicinal purposes. It has multiplied and stalks look healthy and fleshy. In a few days time, I am going to cut the stalks, scoop the flesh from inside and preserve it in the fridge. Where a few months ago stood my Tulsi plant burnt with cold has now a mushrooming of tiny Tulsi saplings. I am waiting for them to grow a bit more before I start using the fresh leaves in my morning cuppa of tea. Mint bed is filling itself again with dark green fresh looking leaves ready for pudina cutney season.

Two huge Neem trees grow along the outer side of my house (mine is a corner house).They too are having new shoots now but after inundating the area with shed leaves to the chagrin of my gardener. The bougainvillea shrubs nearby are in full splendour of pretty looking yellow, pink, red and purple flowers. The squirrels are having a field day scurrying up and down the neem. The cuckoo is already in a joyous mood and coo coos perched on the mango tree budding profusely.

The cycle of renewal is so spontaneous and automatic in nature that we hardly notice its movement. Though we have evolved in the midst of nature but in the race of life have severed our umbilical relationship with it. This sentiment is succinctly expressed by W.H .Davies in his poem ‘Leisure’, where he says “what is this life if, full of care, we have no time to stand and stare.” By abusing the flora and fauna man is inviting its own annihilation. It is heartening that so many organizations are coming forward to save the planet earth through the medium of their various campaigns. I hope they succeed!

Women’s clubs serve a useful purpose

(published in Life Style magazine of The Tribune dated 25th February,2010)

Women’s clubs have become ubiquitous in upper middle class communities and are considered to be an important medium of social networking. In the modern day fast pace life when leisurely visits around neighbourhood have become few and far between these provide opportunities for the ladies to meet and interact with each other once fortnightly or monthly. The members are mostly a medley of all adult age groups. The meetings are hosted by turn and the menu is always kept simple: a cup of tea and two healthy snacks.

I am a member of two such clubs and always look forward to the periodic get - together. These are running very successfully and make me feel a part of the neighbourhood.

Apart from the socializing and entertainment angle (we play two tambola games and it is such fun) the attend freshens me up and updates me about the goings on in my locality. There is always a healthy exchange of views on household remedies, cooking tips about individually tried recipes and pros and cons of certain specific exercises for common problems faced by many. The gaiety, cheer and camaraderie which are generated prove a
stress buster for all.

There is generally a tête-à-tête about important tasks which require attention and efforts are made to pass on the suggestions to the appropriate welfare association of the area. Such steps lead to the redressal of grievances.

Most importantly such kitty clubs act as a sort of anti-depressant particularly for non working ladies by giving them a chance to escape household drudgery and enjoy some change of environment at least for a short time. Definitely it helps all to unwind.

Amber, the Little Nymph

When Amber arrived in the world there was rapturous joy and jubilation. We had stayed put in her parents’ house waiting with bated breath for her, our angel’s arrival. We had the first glimpse of her at the hospital when the nurse placed the cherubic bundle in her mother’s lap to the unbounded pleasure of all gathered there. There she was resplendent with a peach and pink complexion in contrast with the milk white wrap around her and a glowing serenity pervading on her face. It took sometime for the truth to sink in that our darling Amber for whom we had been waiting for the last many months is actually before us.

Her first bed was the crib beside her mother’s bed and a slight nudge on it startled her as if conveying that the realties of this harsh world were too much as compared to the secure haven of her mother’s womb.

Finally after a few days Amber was homeward bound sitting in the infant seat of her papa’s car. With her homecoming the atmosphere in the house changed dramatically. There was a flurry of activities around her. All four of us started scurrying to and fro in tending to her needs which were a lot many.

Our moods went up and down based on her condition. We were happy when she was smiling and cooing and our faces fell immediately when she threw up most of the milk while burping(which was as essential as the milk itself).But when she burped without spilling our faces lighted up as if with a sense of great achievement.

Thus was spent the first semester - alternating between moments of sheer joy , her bouts of colic pains and our panic reactions. All this and much more went into making Amber grow into a sweet, cute, charming and chirpy little princess.

Now whenever her parents ask her to say cheese before clicking her picture her face instinctively broadens into a bewitching smile and takes on the contours of a classic beauty. Already her precociousness comes to the fore through her passion for books and her communication skills. She goes to the children’s library with her mom and selects story books by intently looking at the illustrations (she does not know how to read yet).She is going to be four soon and what a joy to us! We her doting grandparents only wish and hope that she attains excellence in whatever she takes upon herself to do and in the process makes a difference somewhere!