Gift of God - Amber

Amber our cherubic grand daughter- who is going to be five soon- visited us along with her parents in the month of January. Her presence in our midst, though for a few days afforded us tremendous pleasure and joy. Her lovely gestures and innocent one liners transported us to an entirely different world of supreme happiness. Even after so many days since her departure, we are daily reliving those antics of hers. Her climbing the stairs to go to the roof of our house umpteen times, crushing and stomping over the fallen leaves of the Neem tree and enjoying the rustling sound or leaning over the parapet and talking to her mother down in the lawn while her mother warned her against leaning all the time. It is no gainsaying if I say, “She is as flighty as a feather and unpredictable as weather”. One moment she is frolicsome and playful and the next she is throwing tantrums to have her way in something which obviously can’t be met. Then she has to be brought round with some smart alternative offer and promise. Now let me tell you something interesting about her. She saw me using petroleum jelly on my lips and immediately asked what I was doing. I told her that my lips get dry often and I use it to moisturize them. After that her lips were getting dry every five minutes till I removed the bottle from the dressing table and hid it beyond her reach.

The moment she stepped into our house, her spontaneous exclamation with arms raised upwards was, “Nanu, such a big house! It is so nice.” we were instantly floored by the naturalness of the expression. And later when I agreed to cook noodles –her favorite- for her, she became so excited and thrilled that she ran to me and while enveloping my legs in her tiny arms remarked, “You are the best Nani Ma.” I could not but hug her tightly for the priceless joy which was mutually gratifying.

Now if I am allowed to describe her personality. Yes! she has a unique persona even at this tender age. She is fairly tall, delicately built and seems to have a sweet singing voice, that was evidenced when she was heard humming the current rage and craze, ‘ muni badnam hui darling tere liye’ in her own inimitable style . Obviously she didn’t understand a word but the beat tickled her. I would say that nature truly spent time in sculpting her body and mind. She is all girl - wears only matching tights and the likes with her frocks, no trousers for her. She is gifted with an exquisitely chiseled straight nose, bright and expressive eyes, light brown silky hair, a peach and butter complexion, perfect articulation and exceptional communication skills. You have to hear her to believe the aptness of her expression e.g. on seeing a dog on the road “Nani Ma look, look over there, the black dog is hopping on its three legs.”

Affection flows out of her being like ripples in a water body. We were seeing them off at our gate at the end of their visit and after the usual hugs and hand shakes they were finally seated in the van, when I saw Amber trying to open the door. Her mom opened the door and Amber stood in the door shouting, “Nanu ,Nani Ma I want to kiss you”. And we were blessed with those sweet parting kisses of hers and marveled at her sensitivity and sensibility. I am sure that Amber is going to forget all this but for us her grand parents this memory will be etched in our imagination and talked about hundreds of times in the days to come.

We hope and wish that Amber, who appears to be so promising, becomes a super achiever and grows into an accomplished young girl capable of spreading cheer and goodwill all around her.

She is a clean slate waiting for the right images to be drawn on it!

Reflections on Lohri 13.1.2011 2.30 P.M .

Hi folks: Let the best may happen to you throughout the year!!!!

Today is Lohri!! Thank God the sun has finally succeeded in breaking the barrier of fog to come out resplendent with warm brilliance to bless the folks down under, cocooned as they were in their quilts and other paraphernalia for almost a week, because of biting cold and extreme foggy conditions outside. Luckily yesterday too after a long depressing spell, rays of the sun filtered through the smog much earlier around ten in the morning .Venturing out during inclement weather is asking for trouble both health wise and safety wise. For a few days we were completely immobile. There was no let up from mist, fog and intense cold. Sun failed to permeate the dense blanket of haze. Yesterday when the sun shine muscled out a flurry of activities started at breakneck speed. Literally it was ‘make hay while the sun shines’ syndrome at play. Washing had to be done before water taps ran dry or electricity was cut off. Groceries had to be purchased for the coming week. Obviously we can’t predict the vagaries of weather, can we?

Coming back to Lohri festival which we north Indians celebrate every year by symbolically burning evil and sloth in the bonfire around which we assemble late in the evening, eating winter goodies and singing songs. Nostalgia for the good old days transported me back in time of my youth when my mother would give us a handful of ‘tin choli’ to be thrown in the fire with the words ‘udam aaye, dalider jaye ,dalider di jarr ,chuley paye.’ Strangely enough I always enjoyed this ritual which was repeated every year. It would make me feel much better and more positive.

Ironically today since morning I am reminding myself repeatedly that I should feel upbeat because after all it is a great day. But an inner voice kept on disturbing my peace of mind by throwing uncomfortable questions at me. I could no longer thwart its insinuations. It awakened in me the realization of the abyss of cynicism and skepticism in which we as thinking beings (are we?) have fallen into. The ultimate thing about which a human being should be proud of is faith in himself and his abilities to overcome the obstacles which come in the way of making life genuinely happy through peace, truth, justice and brotherliness. Unfortunately, confidence which can empower us that we can still set things right is no longer felt. We have become totally enmeshed in the cobweb of greed, intolerance, anger and unabashed lies so much so that we have stopped living for ourselves and have started hankering after things outside us.

An eminent writer Erich Fromm the proponent of humanistic psychoanalysis discusses ethical norms which are mandatory for leading a meaningful life in his book ‘Man for Himself’. There he states, “...moral norms are based upon man’s inherent qualities, and that their violation results in mental and emotional disintegration.” But alas! instead of cultivating a code of conduct for moral upliftment, man appears to have throttled the voice of his conscience and has become so myopic that he cannot see beyond the interests of his immediate family and friends. Nepotism and favouritism rule the roost and merit has taken a back seat in the functioning of our democracy. Hence we confront confusion and chaos every where. Also we feel afraid, threatened and powerless in the overall system in which we live. Mentally and physically we feel like zombies with stunted capacity for being good and productive.

Yes, these are the warning signals for the human race. Unless man learns to release his tremendous energies and reasoning for the benefit of his fellowmen, he will remain sick, frustrated and unhappy and this is negation of what life ought to be. History confirms though that man has infinite power of doing good and it is hoped that man’s good sense will prevail before it is too late.
…………..

Tomorrow is Makar Sankranti and I am going to spend the day in contemplation, remembering my mother who left for the unknown this pious day a few years back.
Missing you terribly Ma!!!!!!

Your daughter

November: my favourite month

Hi everybody, congratulations and very best wishes! Tomorrow is Xmas, the gala day for the whole world. December is already on its way out. We will very soon welcome the New Year-2011- hoping and wishing that it would be luckier for the world community.

It is getting colder everyday. We have already armed ourselves with our thicker woolens and had to exert a lot rummaging through the recesses of cupboards and through piles in the big boxes meant for storage to find them. (I always forget where I have stored what.)

The following short article I penned down last month, articulating my feelings and observations about November.


November has gone by and December is slowly meandering into our lives with memories of hazy mornings and the dreaded smog which sometimes does not clear till mid day and throws life out of gear. November to my mind is the most gratifying and a very special month. It is comfy warm and not hot, it is cool but not cold. The sky stays clear blue, minus pollutants. The slight nip in the air makes the morning walk a treat. For a retiree like me (with due respect to the early morning walkers) going for a walk early in the morning is no compulsion either. Rather I prefer to venture out around eight, when the soothingly mild sun appears to be extending a gratuitous invitation to join him in his exploratory spree. The tête-à-tête with the sun continues during the brisk walk followed by a set of stretching exercises in the neighborhood park- an antidote for minor aches and pains- which bucks one up for the day. Both the mind and the body feel fresh and invigorated in the company of the objects of nature around.

However the icing on the cake is the sight of children of nearby villages, enjoying the November air, attired in their school uniforms marching happily to their respective schools. This human landscape indicates a fast improving literacy ratio and a hope of a better future for these children.

Festivals and special days abound in November. Diwali, India’s most colourful festival falls in this month followed by Bhai Dooj, Vishkarma day and Guru Nanak Dev ji’s birthday. It is auspicious for weddings too and spreads cheer and goodwill continuously.

The Western countries have Thanksgiving Day and November 11 is celebrated as Armistice-a day to remember those who died in World War-1. November 14 is world‘s Diabetes day and Jawahar Lal Nehru’s birthday. I am certain many more culturally specific events are associated with this month the world over.

November is an epicurean’s delight, as it has an enviable position in the cuisine front as well. There is surfeit of winter vegetables and fruits. For the initiated, it provides a great opportunity to cook and serve gourmet dishes and soups. Who can ignore the mouth watering, steaming hot paranthas’ stuffed with finely minced fenugreek leaves, grated cauliflower or radishes with dollops of butter and a bowl of perfectly set home made curd. And then sumptuous dinners signed off with finger licking carrot halwa garnished with generous handfuls of dry fruits. Seasonal specialties like sag and makki di roti- the hot favourites- are relished by children and adults alike.

November is kind to plants and other vegetation also. The trees in our colony are intact with their green power yet. My chrysanthemums are holding their heads high with lustrous flowers in red, yellow and white adorning their tops. Rose bushes in the park laden with fragrant blooms are a visual pleasure. My most prized herbal plant Tulsi stands strong, but I am devising a plan to save it from fast the approaching cold months. I always need its leaves to enrich my morning cuppa of tea, to which I have gotten used to over the years.

All said and done, I thank you November for your numerous benedictions and bounties. May your tribe increase!!!

29th November: Reflections

Hi everybody,

This is the penultimate day of the month and I am in a reflective mood. During this month our aloneness was joyfully filled by the visit of our son for a few days. The continuity in the relationship got restored after a gap of more than two years. We enjoyed listening to the progress made by our grandsons in different spheres. We miss them terribly. So many times their innocent and sweet faces appear before my eyes and make me shower silent blessings. Distance does make heart grow fonder. No phone conversation can transmit the depth and warmth of your kinship with your near and dear ones!

November is also significant for the pleasantest weather.Morning walk is a treat. Basking in the mild sunshine upto 12 o' clock is invigorating and bucks you up for the day.Plenty of winter vegetables are available for savouring home cooked soups.Our mouths start watering at the sight of makki di roti and sarson da sag. One can see mounds of kinnows being sold on the road side. Lucky to drink fresh juice daily.Papaya ,apple and banana too are ubiquitous in this month. Bye bye Nov. and hail Dec for being always instrumental in ushering the new year!

Drawing Room Monologues

Drawing room social interactions are no longer what they used to be some years back. In these days of fast paced life it is quite infrequently that one gets invited along with a few others for a cup of tea by a common friend or goes their by oneself on a once monthly visit. The lamentable scenario is that there is no more a friendly sharing of views in a relaxed atmosphere for the enjoyment of all. Instead an irritating proclivity to hijack or monopolize the conversation by one or two individuals has become the rule rather than the exception.

The nouveau rich class seems to have become afflicted with this malady to a large extent. On a visit to them one will be bombarded by their description of their new acquisitions including flashy cars, high class bath room fittings and updated wardrobe et al. If one dares to interrupt their drunken flow of ‘duck speak’, one’s voice is drowned in the unstoppable cacophony.

The sudden quantum jump- in salary packages of those in service or those whose children have landed lucrative jobs in fast expanding Indian economy- has metamorphosed them into immodest charlatans. In no time such families have been catapulted from a middle class social ladder to an upwardly mobile centric position. Their egos have soared sky high and good manners required for the smooth flow of a dialogue have taken a flight. Especially the ladies in such families have turned so disagreeable since the family’s income has more than doubled that their common sense has correspondingly dipped abysmally low. Wherever they are they never get tired of indulging in boastful talk and narrating inane and insipid personal details ad nauseam to the genuine but concealed mirth of those present.

Then there is another specimen who the moment you open your mouth to say something would compulsively cut you short half way and start recounting endless stories about himself with the sole purpose of being in the centre stage. The egotistic exhibition would ironically end up making him look sillier and insufferable. Out of courtesy the victims choose to suffer in silence than putting him in his place. But evidently the thick skinned bore does not ever learn his lesson and would keep on mauling the unsuspecting victim mercilessly even without a breather.

Now the question arises why some people indulge in such social insanities when contrary to their expectations this aggressive and crude behaviour on their part lowers them in the eyes of those who paradoxically they wanted to impress. Don’t they know that people actually start avoiding them and would turn the other way to save their skin from such inveterate and conceited bores.

Perhaps it stems from their internal insecurities which they try to hide by resorting to such unbecoming show off. In the run up to one-upmanship they end up becoming a pain in the neck of their listeners whom secretly people despise. Surely they urgently need to do some introspection and learn to behave in a socially acceptable manner. Rather than acting a monologue be advised to participate in a healthy dialogue.

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.”