REMOTE CONTROL

After a long time, I traveled by bus due to incessant rains and the resultant flooding of roads.  A good looking, young North Indian lady sat next to me. From her body language I could make out that she too is not used to the public transport.  The bus was fully packed and there was a bad traffic jam and the bus moved very slowly.  The lady seated next to me picked up her phone and started a conversation.  Under ideal situations, when someone is discussing personal issues, I would excuse myself.  But the situation on that day was different.  I tried hard to think about something else and not listen to her conversation, but I failed and I overheard her conversation.  It is certainly not fair to discuss someone else’s troubles and that too on a blog.  But I am sure what she was discussing was not unique to her.  It can happen to anybody and so I thought I should write about it.

From what I overheard and understood, she is recently married.  Both the lady and her husband are software engineers employed in Chennai.  The lady and her husband went to watch a film a few days back and kept their phones on a silent mode.  The lady’s mother-in-law tried calling the lady’s husband several times and when he did not respond, tried to reach this lady in reference.  When she too had not responded, she tried calling some relatives and friends and all of them tried calling these two people and when there was no response, the lady’s mother-in-law called the lady’s mother and learnt that the couple has gone to watch a film. (The lady’s mother had called just before the couple entered the theatre and so she was informed.)  During the interval, the lady’s husband saw several missed calls on the phone and called his mother to check if everything was fine.  His mother was very upset that the couple had gone to watch a film without informing her and for not responding to her calls.  (If you assume that the couple in reference is from a joint family, you are mistaken.  The parents are living in a small town in North India and the young couple in Chennai.)

  

The mother-in-law on coming to know about the unusual Chennai monsoon and flooding tried calling her son on that fateful day and when both the son and the daughter-in-law had not picked up the phones, she panicked.    Offended by the fact that the lady’s mother had more information about the couple, the mother-in-law became hysteric and started fighting with her son on the phone.  The son tried to pacify the mother, but failed miserably.  Through his father and sister, the lady’s husband learnt that his mother was very angry that his wife had not bothered to apologize and as a protest has locked herself in a room and refusing food and threatening to commit suicide. 

The young lady, who had a cosmopolitan upbringing, is shocked with the developments.  Her husband wanted her to fly with him to his parents’ home to calm his mother.  When she refused, he is upset and withdrawn.  The young lady is stressed.  Her husband is stressed and so are his parents and other family members.  The lady literally cried in the bus as she spoke to her relative/friend on the phone and strangers sitting around had to console her. 

This kind of problem is unique to India. 

In ancient times, human beings were nomadic and always flocked together, as they had to protect themselves from nature and wild animals.  I think it is the same fear factor that has resulted in joint family system in India.  After India attained independence, with industrialization and  economic development, people who were till then dependent on traditional jobs, starting migrating in search of greener pastures resulting in disintegration of the joint family system.  IT revolution galvanized the process further.  The older generation, unable to come to terms with the new found freedom of their children tries to hold them tight by other ways and means.  It is their sense of insecurity that results in the bad behaviour and harassment.  I do agree that they stretch a lot to raise their children.  Does that mean that they have to control them for a life time?

I was very shocked with this episode and I discussed it with my friend.  I had never thought that such behaviour is prevalent in the upper middle and elite classes. My friend narrated his experience.  Several years ago, my friend, visited a clinic near his home late in the evening with his young son, who was unwell.  The clinic was run by a Doctor couple.  Though the clinic was open, the Doctors were not available.  When my friend questioned the compounder present at the clinic as to why the clinic was not closed when the Doctors were not available, the compounder replied that the Doctors had gone to watch a film without the knowledge of the mother-in-law and the clinic was kept open to attend to the phone call the mother-in-law is likely to make.  (Please note, there were no mobile phones then) My friend amused with the reply asked, “What excuse would you offer if you get a call now?”  To this the compounder replied, “I will tell that they have gone to attend to an emergency case”.  I am quoting this just to explain how parents chase their children and how children manipulate things.

I really don’t understand why grownup children have to be leashed?  Somehow, this reminds me of the famous story “The Blind Dog” by R.K.Narayan, which illustrates a regrettable, yet a realistic dilemma of freedom vs. necessity.  In the story, when a blind man binds a dog with leash, a desire for freedom makes the dog run away.  However, with no food, the dog returns to the blind man.  The case is similar to many Indian homes, where the parents like the blind man are dependent on their children and the children long for freedom, but return to parents for emotional and financial reasons.

I have a question to the parents:  Why can’t there be a peaceful coexistence? You always quote from the scriptures and expect your son to be like Lord Rama who went to exile as ordered by his father without questioning.  Are you aware that as per the scriptures there are four stages in life viz., Brahmacharyam, Grihasthasramam, Vanaprastham and Sanyasam? How many of you are ready to accept Vanaprastham and Sanyasam?

No two generations are the same and please accept change.  Don’t suffocate your loved ones.  I know it is very difficult to let go things.  Please note plants do not grow well under a shady tree.  Let your children experiment, make mistakes and learn from their mistakes.  Why should adults be treated like kids?  Give them their space, independence and dignity.

A few suggestions for children: I don’t at all suggest that parents have to be abandoned or ignored or insulted.  Please handle them.  Handle them with dignity and respect and don’t forget your self-respect in the process.  Please do not surrender.  By surrendering, you cannot satisfy them.  Don’t let them chase you.  Reach out to them.  Reassure that you love them and that you are there for them.  Provide information proactively.  Never discuss trivial matters in detail.  Don’t let them decide on your behalf.  Never encourage bad and uncivil behaviour.  Don’t yield to control games and succumb to emotional blackmail.  Be empathetic and explain to them calmly when there is a difference of opinion.

Take charge of your life.  Sooner, the better it is.

Life is so precious; why should it be lived so badly?

P.S. Children - when you grow older, read the suggestions for the parents.

NOT AT ALL DIRTY – A TRIBUTE TO ‘SILK’ SMITHA

In the late 80’s, I had the habit of walking for an hour after dinner and one night while I was walking in our garden, I saw a lady walking her dog on the road.  She looked familiar and when I went close, I was shocked.  It was none other than ‘Silk’ Smitha.  I rushed into our house and told my people about this.  Next day, my dad found out that Smitha had moved into a palatial house in our colony.

Several of our neighbours were associated with the film industry and many of them were troublesome.  They poached servants, parked cars haphazardly on the road, tampered with water connections, let out sewerage into open drains, threw garbage on the road, picked up quarrels with neighbours and more than anything else, were arrogant.

Smitha, or rather her family was different.  They were unusually silent. They never interacted with any neighbours, let alone fight or trouble.  Her house was isolated.  She lived with her partner, a man who was much senior to her and his grown up children.  I had seen her occasionally in the nights, cycling, walking her dogs or just walking with her partner, holding hands.

The only time I saw her during daytime was when our road was dug for laying of underground sewerage drains.  By the time she returned from a shooting in the afternoon in her car, the road was cut and she could not drive down. Since ours is a blind lane and there is no other route, she had to get down the car and walk to her home.  Shod in stilettos, she walked very briskly and with great confidence over the mountains of clay on the bumpy road.  She looked very dignified even in her glamorous costumes.

She regularly visited the Vinayaka temple in our colony and donated liberally.  We felt the presence of a film star only when she shuttled in her Standard 2000 car and when they burst expensive crackers during Deepavali.

Poor people approached her seeking monetary help.  When refugees from Sri Lanka arrived in India in large numbers during the mid and late eighties, many of them visited her and sought her help to settle down. People generally asked us for direction to her house, as ours is the first house in the lane.  One such refugee, who asked us for directions, while returning stopped at our house, thanked us for helping him with the address and praised Smitha’s magnanimity.

An adolescent girl from rural Andhra, annoyed with her parents, with no money in hand, boarded a train to Madras and hired an auto rickshaw and directed the driver to take her to Smitha’s house.  The driver who initially thought that the girl was known to Smitha, later understood that she had run away from home and with great care drove her to our colony and like many others, stopped near our house asking for direction to Smitha’s house.  On seeing the girl and from a conversation with the auto driver, my dad understood the gravity of the situation and worried about the girl’s safety, advised her to go back to her village.  The girl was very determined to stay at Madras and become an actress and went on to meet Smitha.  Smitha paid the auto charges, fed the girl and not only convinced the girl to return to her home, but also made arrangements for her return home with an escort.  She was so responsible.

One evening in mid 90’s when I returned home from work, my colony was barricaded by Police and there were nearly a thousand people in my street.  My heart stopped for a moment.  I thought there was either a fire accident or some other catastrophe.  When I managed to enter my house, my mother informed me about Smitha’s death.  She had committed suicide the previous night, after writing a letter to ‘God’ in Telugu.  The letter was published in several vernacular papers and many of my friends brought it to me for translation.  I don’t remember the exact content, but obviously it was written when she was very depressed.  The cause for the depression is not known.  It could have been her declining work assignments, or the money she lost in film production or the stress of being in an undefined relationship.  Whatever be the cause, the end is really sad,

After she died, we learnt that the house she lived in was not her own, but was a rented one.  Her partner vacated the house soon after her death and since there were rumours of the house being haunted, the landlord could not get a new tenant and the house was later demolished.

I don’t know how she is being portrayed in the to-be released ‘Dirty Picture’.  She certainly was not dirty.