STATUS – SINGLE

“Chehra gora, baal lambe aur ankhein bade” (fair complexion, long hair and large eyes) says Shabana Azmi to a visually challenged Naseeruddin Shah in the Hindi film Sparsh, while discussing the yardsticks of beauty in India.

Many wonder why I have remained single, though I conform to the beauty standards mentioned above.  It is hard for people to believe that I have chosen to remain single.  I can understand the anxiety of my parents, siblings and a few other well wishers, but cannot comprehend the curiosity of others.  Every time I get introduced to a person, inevitably I am questioned about my marital status.  When I took a decision to remain single, I told myself to be prepared to face the music.  It is not just me, who has got bored answering this question, but my family members and some close friends who are constantly grilled about this are fed up.  What surprises me is that my status is discussed with the same intensity of a national calamity.  There is an adage in Telugu which says a person answering automatically becomes a subordinate to the one questioning. Many times out of respect and out of civility, I become a subordinate and answer patiently.

The toughest part is listening to advice sessions. Strangely, the easiest thing in the world is advising and the most difficult; listening to it.  My family and my best friends, who I consider as my extended family, have accepted me for who I am.  But, some of my acquaintances and relatives feel sad that they are unable to influence me. 

In my previous assignment, the Management of the Organization I was working for had arranged for a HR programme for the employees.  The agenda was not discussed with any of the participants before the programme commenced.    The person who conducted the programme is a reputed HR Consultant and a qualified Psychiatrist.  The programme was designed based on the hypothesis that, productivity at work place is directly proportional to harmony at home, particularly marital harmony.  So, the Consultant was hired to set right the marital problems of the employees, thus increasing productivity. After conducting a few games and when the participants were at ease, the Consultant started discussing problems the participants faced at home.  The participants suddenly became uninhibited and started complaining about so many funny problems they experienced at home, which varied from not getting an extra cup of coffee, to domestic violence, to the influence of in-laws on their spouses’ etc.   Suddenly, a colleague of mine asked the Consultant if matrimony and happiness were mutually exclusive.  A friend of this colleague in reference was unmarried and was apparently very happy.  My colleague doubted whether the friend was really happy or was pretending to be happy and asked the Consultant if a person can really be happy by being single.  Many of the participants, including me thought he was referring to me, but when the Consultant asked if that friend was present in the audience, and my colleague said “No”, I was relieved.  I did not want to be the subject of a public debate.  The Consultant did not want to discuss the subject elaborately, as he felt it was irrelevant, but said he was not supportive of some one remaining single, as he felt that, there would be a vacuum in life, because of which there would be no happiness.  When he said this, my colleagues who kept advising me to marry, looked at me with pride.  For average Indians, anything said from a dais over a mike is a gospel.  I thought my colleagues would take my life off me that afternoon.  Several other problems were discussed; many people cried on the Consultant’s shoulder and he offered them solutions instantly.

During the lunch break, my colleagues pounced on me as I had anticipated.  They complained that I don’t take them seriously and quoted what the Consultant had said about singletons and advised me to take him seriously and plan to marry.  Though I had remained a mute spectator throughout the programme as the problems discussed were irrelevant to me, I had listened to every problem that was discussed and analyzed the solutions given by the Consultant.  When a participant, complained about harassment from the society in general and her in-laws in particular about her being childless for several years of her marriage, the Consultant was very empathizing.  He consoled her by stating that, Indians are very conservative and cannot accept the fact that a couple can lead a happy life without procreating and that she has to learn to live happily with her husband, forgetting about what the society and her in-laws say about her condition.  He also told the audience that he was childless, but still leading a happy life.  This was a clear case of subjective thinking.  Taking a clue from this, I argued with my friends.  I told them that the consultant had married at the appropriate time and hence, he didn’t have the experience of being single, but he has managed without children, so he was confident that people can lead life without children.  I told them that solitude was beyond the Consultant’s imagination. They were speechless. 

THE JOY OF GIVING

My most favourite mythological character is Karna.  I don’t know whether it is the screenplay of the Tamil film “Karnan” or a story I read as a young girl that influenced me.  The story goes like this;

A rich man, who is also a connoisseur of art, organizes a Harikatha (a composite art form comprising story telling, poetry, music, dance and philosophy) before an invited audience at his home.  Impressed with the performance, he decides to reward the performer and gets into his room, opens the safe and brings out some gold coins and places them in the tray with the Tamboolam (Betel leaves with areca nuts given to a guest traditionally). Within a few minutes, the host changes his mind and replaces the gold with silver and again silver with a few currency notes.  Observing this and understanding the wavering mind of the host, the performer narrates an episode from the life of Karna, extempore.

A poor Brahmin visits Karna’s palace, seeking alms.  At that time, Karna, who is known for his generosity and righteousness, is massaging his body with oil from a silver bowl.  On seeing the poor man, Karna offers the silver bowl in his left hand, spontaneously.  The Brahmin objects to this and requests Karna to use his right hand for donating, as using the left hand is considered inauspicious.  Karna justifies his stance by stating that the human mind is always wavering and while he changes the bowl to his right hand, there are chances of him changing his mind and refrain from gifting such a precious bowl to a stranger and that gifting/donating should always be spontaneous.

The host having understood the hidden meaning in the story narrated out of context and rewards the performer with gold, as planned originally.

Giving results in joy for both the parties concerned.  I thoroughly enjoy giving or rather sharing.  I was induced into this activity mainly by two persons; i) my neighbour’s father and ii) my father’s friend’s wife.

My neighbour’s father “Tatagaru” (Grandpa) as we all addressed him was a farmer, who shifted from his native village in coastal Andhra to Madras with his only son, who was into publishing and film production.  The son established his office in the first floor of his residence.  Those were the pre-computer days and all manuscripts were written by hand and composing was done manually and there was a significant wastage of stationery in both the publication and film production departments. Tatagaru visited the office every evening after office hours and salvaged one sided papers, small pencils, pens, refills etc from the bins.  He sorted out the one sided papers and made note pads with them.  He sharpened the pencils, changed nibs or caps for ink pens and took all these and waited outside the gate of a nearby public school.  The students, most of them from lower middle class gathered around him to collect the scrap note pads, used pencils and pens from Tatagaru.  Tatagaru also filled his pockets with toffees, candies and pepper mints every time he stepped out of the house and was chased by young children on the road with raised hands shouting “Tata Tata” expecting to receive the goodies and Tatagaru happily gave it to them.  I saw the “joy of giving” in his eyes.

The other person who inspired me is my father’s friend’s wife.  She never sent any visitor to her home empty handed.  When I went with my father to their house as a small girl, she gifted me a few hair clips and a pack of kerchiefs, which I preserved for a long time.  I enjoyed receiving them from her and I decided I would spread the joy I experienced, to the people around me.

I love to see the sparkle in the eyes of people while they receive gifts from me.

Though I have never discussed “Karna” with my parents, they are worried that, I would emulate him.  My parents, particularly my mother doesn’t approve my spending on gifts.  She feels that, I am suffering from some compulsive disorder and just the way Lord Indra and Lord Krishna took away the Kavacha Kundalas (Body armour) and the Punya Phalam (fruit of good deeds) in disguise and tricked Karna into losing the battle with Pandavas, I would be exploited and that I should be adequately protected. 

Her fears are based on a preconceived notion and are not correct.  In fact, I receive more gifts than I give, many times more valuable.  Gifting is contagious and I have initiated many into it.  In the past few years, I have not purchased any clothes for myself.  I didn’t feel the need, as I have received several as gifts.

When we gift, we need to keep in mind, the sentiment and dignity of the person receiving the gift.  One should ensure that the person receiving should not be made to feel small or hurt by our gesture.  One should also not discuss the details or boast about the gifts with others or as a matter of fact, speak about it to the recipient of the gift.  An aunt of mine had once gifted an alarm clock to another aunt and for several years, every time they met, the aunt who gifted the clock enquired about the working condition and its utility, forcing my other aunt to take an oath never again to accept gifts.

Whenever my mother advices me to stop gifting without an occasion, I tell her that there is only one occasion when one can neither give nor take i.e., when one leaves this world.  All of us leave this world empty handed.  All exchanges have to take place before that.  I sympathize with the tightfisted persons, as I feel they are missing the joy of giving.

I always pray that I have enough to share with my loved ones.

Bless me!

 

CONVERSION

Globetrotters associate the term “conversion” with currency.  Many Indians generally use the term in religious contexts.

In the past few years, another significant conversion is seen; conversion of relationships/friendships and events into money.

I feel it is the side effect of IT revolution in the country.  Though statistically the economy has improved and per capita income has increased, the IT industry has widened the gap between the rich and the poor and the urban and the rural, further.  The neo-rich, a byproduct of IT revolution have set a high living standard and are apparently giving a complex to non-IT urban working class and this in addition to the rising inflation, is forcing many to take up direct marketing/selling, to supplement their incomes.

There is nothing wrong in taking up additional work or even direct selling or marketing per se, but targeting known persons certainly is, more particularly when the product or service is not of much use to the buyer.  The targeted buyers often end up buying, unable to say a firm “NO”, resulting in a hole in the pocket. 

Direct marketing is almost a parallel economy.  Every second person I have met in the recent past is involved in it.  The range of products vary from airtight plastic containers, cosmetics and beauty products, soaps and detergents, bands, gloves, vests, socks etc with healing properties, chit fund schemes, gold schemes, nutritional supplements, juices of exotic fruits, fat blockers etc.   None of these products are available in shops; so not covered under Shops and Establishment Act.  They don’t raise invoices; so they don’t attract VAT or service taxes.  Whether the income generated is accounted or not is not known. The selling price of the products is very high.  The persons selling are trained to convince that the product quality is much higher than the branded ones available in the market. 

They motivate us to become members in their team, so that they can earn commission on sales done by the members they have initiated into the group.  All this is done with a missionary zeal and the tone is certainly evangelizing.  Once these people taste little profit from this kind of business, they go about targeting more people. Attending social gatherings or functions are no longer pleasant.  We are chased by these people everywhere.  When we do not yield, they get annoyed and stop interacting with us, so much so they don’t like to have an eye-to-eye contact or refuse to acknowledge our presence.  People selling “fat blockers” and “food substitutes” start their work early in the day.  They target us when we go for our morning walks. 

Last year, I was suffering from a gynecological disorder and visited a gynecologist practicing near my house.   When my turn came, I went into her chamber.  As I started explaining to her my problems, she showed little interest.  “These doctors are weird” I told myself.  Though there were several patients behind me, she kept on asking me questions about my family members, my work etc. She spoke about several things and when she paused for a minute, I started explaining my medical condition to her again.  She tried to convince me that it could be because of my obesity and sympathized with me for not being able to reduce my weight in spite of my efforts.  (The doctor had seen me several times on the road during my morning walks)  I was for a minute happy that there was someone to empathize with me.  She then asked me how many colleagues I have in the office.  Though I felt it was irrelevant, I answered.  She was not impressed with the modest number.  She prescribed a scan and blood tests for me.   I knew she was cornering me for something, but was not clear.  I got all the prescribed tests done and went to the doctor with the reports after a few days.  After quickly glancing through my reports, she said everything was “okay” and that she was going to put me on a special diet.  I listened to her with curiosity.  She went into another room and brought a pack and said it contained nutrients extracted from herbs and is a food substitute, which means I should totally stop eating and mix this herbal powder and drink as many times as possible.  I was furious.  Was that a solution to my specific problem?  I told her I wasn’t ready to take it.  She said she would get it for me at a cheaper rate if I became a member and the rate would reduce if I get more members (read scapegoats) into the chain.  I said I had read that such products were carcinogenic and hence I was not keen about them.  She argued that she being a post graduate in medicine knows better.  I said I would take a second opinion and revert and left the clinic.  I decided not to go for it.  I told myself that in a country where starvation deaths are still prevalent I would never spend for not eating.  I am still sticking to my conviction.

Celebrities have started selling telecast rights of their marriages and other important events.  They might start selling “honeymoon” rights in future.  Going by the telephone tapping incidents and the subsequent exposure of scams, our optimistic politicians might soon start selling phone tapping rights. Sky is the limit for making money.

I wonder what these people do with the money they earn and how happy can they really be after converting all the friends, relatives, neighbours and colleagues as their clients.  Obviously they land up at the feet of God men, who for a fat fee advise them to lead simple and humble lives and extend unconditional love for salvation!

I very often think of what Mahatma Gandhi said; “The world has enough for everyone’s need, but not enough for everyone’s greed”.

TWO TITLES

A “title” is an identifying name given to a book, play or a film, which in a nutshell conveys the essence of the work.  Many creators are successful in providing an apt title for their work, while some make the audience/readers speculate the relationship between the title and the work.

I have always wondered which comes first to the mind of a creator; the title or the story.  I think both are possible.

I have till date watched many films and read several books.  Please rest assured I am not going to analyze or review them with respect to their titles.  I am going to discuss a film I have not watched and a book I have not read.

I was a very obedient and a submissive person in my formative years.  The very fact that I have used a simple past to describe my behaviour obviously explains my present nature.

For a very long time in my life, I didn’t feel the need to rebel or oppose, as I grew up in a very protective atmosphere.  I was adored at home, at my neighbours’ homes, at schools, at college and wherever I went, which boosted my confidence and self-esteem.  Things were no different when I started work.  My bosses loved me and protected me just like my family members.  But life is not a fairy tale and every person faces setbacks. 

As time passed, I had to tackle rejections, failures etc.  I was certainly not geared to handle them.  Added to this, I had a bullying colleague. 

Though I am perceived to be an aethist by people around me because of my rational and non-ritualistic approach, I am a great believer in God and feel God is omnipresent and provides us with solutions to all problems in an objective manner and it is up to us to choose the appropriate one.

In mid-nineties ( I don’t remember exactly when) one afternoon, I settled down to watch a film on TV and within a few minutes of commencement of the show, there was a power interruption which lasted for a few hours and I missed the film.  This happened in the pre-cable/satellite TV era and so there was no chance of a repeat telecast.

I should confess, no other film title impressed me as much as this one – Salim Langde Pe Mat Ro.  I don’t know what the story is about.  But, I assumed from the name Salim that the protagonist is a Muslim and Langde is some handicap/disadvantage of the protagonist and ‘Mat Ro” an advice, not to crib.  Many times in life, we keep complaining and cribbing about our failures, as a result of which, we either remain where we are or deteriorate further.  On that particular afternoon I did not take up any other work, hoping for the power to resume and in the meantime, had a thorough introspection and decided that I will never crib about any of my handicaps and I am happy I have not violated my decision.  We are as big or as small as we think we are.

When we are surrounded by well-wishers, one thing we will certainly not learn to say in any language is “No” as we always feel compelled to please them, as a result of which at the end of the day feel exploited.

In my earlier assignment, when most of my colleagues were very cordial, there was one particular person holding a responsible position in the office, was different.  He made fun of me, created obstacles at work and harassed me at every possible opportunity.  I analyzed the problem.  He was prejudiced against women, against my community and was very uncomfortable about the fact that like him, I too had access to all the top bosses.  Though I understood the backdrop, I was not at all conditioned to handle the crisis.  One day he called me to his room and made me wait and started conversing over phone.  When I attempted to leave the room, he signaled to me to wait.  As he kept on talking, to kill time, I took the book kept on his table into my hands and read the title “Don’t Say Yes When You Want to Say No”.  I took it as a solution to my problem and interrupted him and said politely “If you are busy, I will come again”.  He disconnected the phone and tried to dump me with someone else’s work as usual.  Motivated by the title of the book on his table, I said a firm “No” much to his surprise. I have never tried to read that book.  But the title made me more assertive.  Since then, I have uttered the word “No” whenever I did not want to say “Yes”.

I don’t want to exaggerate the role of the “titles” in my metamorphosis, but they certainly have played a significant role.

DREAMS UNLIMITED

I was probably a three year old.  I am not sure.  I was yet to join a school.  One afternoon after a sumptuous lunch, I fell asleep.  Suddenly I heard a noise and saw a man pushing a sewing machine.  For a moment I thought he was taking away my mother’s “Usha” machine, but the machine was a different one.  Since I was uneducated, I could not identify the name etched on his machine.  My mother woke me up as it was dusk and it was and still is considered inauspicious to sleep at that hour.   I was very confused and looked for the sewing machine, which was safe in the corner of the room.  I got up, opened the gate and walked barefoot to my neighbour’s house which was a few yards away to play with their daughter, which was my routine.  Our colony was evolving on a farmland and there were very few houses in the vicinity.  My world comprised of just four houses including ours.  I had absolutely no exposure to the outside world.  I reached my neighbour’s gate and as I was about to open, I saw a man pushing a sewing machine on the road and coming towards my neighbour’s house.  The machine was fixed on a wooden plank with wheels; just the same way I had seen while I was asleep.  I was shocked and could not comprehend what was happening.  That was the first time I was seeing a tailor, leave alone a mobile tailor.  My mother stitched all our clothes and so did the women in the neighbourhood.  I didn’t understand the phenomenon.  What I had experienced while I was asleep was a dream and it became true.  I didn’t discuss it with anyone, as I didn’t know the word “dream” in any language and the experience was confusing.  That marked the beginning of my dreams.

Sometimes my dreams turned out to be true.  Many times not.  Most of the dreams were weird, silly and impossible.  During the black and white era, my dreams were also black and white.  After I started watching a colour TV, my dreams turned multi-coloured.  I can’t say if they are colourful.  I always enjoyed my dreams and preferred not to discuss them with anyone.  They were occasional nightmares and whenever I experienced them, I made noise or cried or moaned, as I slept.  My parents helped me with a glass of water and chanted prayers in my ears to enable me to have a peaceful sleep.  Though I now sleep in a different room, my parents say I still make noise in my sleep once in a while and they don’t offer me water or prayers as they are sure, I will become noisier if I am disturbed while I am asleep.

I was in my fourth standard and we were going on an excursion and reached the school early.  My classmate Sujata, who stayed closed to our school didn’t turn up.  Our bus started without her.  The previous night, in my dream, I saw a coffin being brought out of an aero plane and I heard some one saying it was Sujata’s uncle.  When she did not turn up, I narrated this dream to my friends.  They didn’t believe me.  They made fun of me and said that I must have overheard our teachers discussing about her absence and happily woven a story.  I never knew about Sujata’s uncle living in a different town or have never heard of or seen airlifting a deadbody till then.  Though I was hurt and felt insulted, I could not convince them. After we returned to school, Sujata came and informed that she had lost her uncle at Hyderabad and his body was brought to Madras by air.  I did not attempt to discuss my dream with her, but I was convinced that some dreams certainly come true. 

As I was growing, I dreamt regularly – consciously during daytime and unintentionally in the nights.  I was uninhibited and highly optimistic during my growing phase and my dreams were very pleasant and I prefer to take them to my grave.

A couple of year’s back, when my brother visited us with his family, his long lost friend made a surprise visit to our house.  As the men in my house were chatting in the living room, I was sitting with my nieces and sister-in-law in another room.  The previous night, in my dream, I had met my brother’s friend in reference, who told me that he had lost his job and had sought my help.  I could not resist my temptation to discuss this with my nieces and told them my experience.  My sister-in-law interfered and said it was impossible, as the friend was very well placed.  I didn’t argue.  After a while, the friend had left and my nieces rushed to the living room and told my brother about my dream.  To everyone’s surprise, what I dreamt turned out to be true.  The friend had lost his job and was going through a bad phase and he had returned to Chennai after disposing off his properties in the town he was living.  Though he did not seek my help, he requested my brother to get him a job.  My nieces were spellbound.

I continued to dream and on occasions I had nothing else to do, I thought of chronicling my dreams.  Though I dream throughout the nights, I can only recollect the ones I experience just before I wake up and I forget most of them by the time I brush my teeth.  Documenting them is certainly an impossible task.  I think it is the same with everyone.  Even in films, dream portrayal is absolutely non-realistic.  The best dream sequence I have seen is from the English film Mask. 

I have not read Freud’s The Interpretation of Dreams, but read in many books that dreams are manifestation of our own thoughts.  I don’t know how I or for that matter anyone else can dream about unfamiliar things.

In the last few years, I was unwell and was getting treated for different ailments.  One of the side effects of medication I experienced was lack of dreams.  I did not discuss it with the doctors treating me as I was sure that they would attribute it also to my obesity.  I was very agitated when I was unable to dream.  In a phased manner, my treatment was over and slowly I got back into my dream world. 

My dreams now revolve mostly around my work and hobbies.  I do a systematic review of my work in my dreams and many times I have identified mistakes and errors in my work in my dreams and made corrections the next day.  I get a lot of creative ideas in my dreams.

I feel the happiest way to live is to keep dreaming.  Our memories should never outweigh our dreams.

Happy Dreaming!

POST DATED

January 2, 2062

I am yet to recover from the shock.

My friend for more than half a century, Sri Vivek Joshi, left this world a month before.  He was the first person to greet me on 2061 Diwali.  When I neither received his New Year greeting message nor a reply to mine yesterday, I got suspicious and called over the phone.  His grandson and his namesake picked up the phone and passed on the shocking information to me.

I first came across his name in 1990, when I started my career as a trainee.  My first assignment was to assist the HR Manager (then known as the Personnel Manager).  I had to sort all the important papers bundled and stuffed into cardboard boxes over a period and file them in the respective “personal files” which were supposed to be confidential.  Young and creative I was, left in a large air-conditioned room alone with a few boxes and several files for company, I started drawing imaginary pictures in my mind, of the persons whose files I was handling, based on their names and handwriting and cross-verifying with their photographs in the files.  On reading the name “Vivek” the first image appeared in my mind was that of Swami Vivekananda, but since Vivek was then working in Gujarat, I thought he would resemble a stereotype “Sethji” in Tamil films and zeroed on a combination of Swami Vivekananda and Devan Verma, the Hindi actor and with great curiosity opened his file.  I was shocked.  There was a black and white photograph of a 16 or 17 year old resembling an undernourished   jawan.  Probably, he had sent the photograph taken for his hall ticket during his college days.  I didn’t dare to discuss this with anyone.  My training got over and I became very busy with work and I had forgotten about this episode.

In 2002 October, I met him in person for the first time.  He was promoted and was about to head a Zone and had come to Chennai to attend a training session in a hotel.  Another colleague and my best friend, who was also attending the same training session sneaked out of the venue and came to our office to meet me and congratulate, as that was the day my programme was first aired on All India Radio, Chennai.  Vivek accompanied my friend to the office and we were introduced to each other.  “Congratulations” I said enthusiastically, referring to his promotion.  He said a formal “thank you” sans emotion.  My first impression of him was certainly not a good one.  I felt he was very reserved and timid.  He came back to office the next day and sought my help to get a ticket to travel to his hometown, as his just born daughter was sick.  This was the reason for his sadness the previous day and I cursed myself for being judgmental.

Two years later, I again met him in a residential training programme organized at a resort.  I was the only female participant in a group of thirty.  He was very confident, cheerful and humorous; very different from what he was the first time I met.  He cracked jokes every now and then.  He was very protective and chivalrous and escorted me when I went for my morning walks.  I started addressing him as Bhai Sahib and our friendship had begun. 

The Company we worked for was liquidated and we were all shattered and got scattered.  Though I never met him after that, technology helped and we communicated through phones, mails and networking forums and never missed wishing each other on important festivals.  Bhai Sahib had a good sense of humour.  Once by oversight, I messaged “Happy Diwali” on a New Year and he replied “Happy Holi”.

Both his daughters did well in their studies and made him proud.  Their careers took them to several countries and Bhai Sahib traveled with them to every place and except Antarctica, he visited every continent in the world.  He lived a fulfilling life with his wife, daughters, sons-in-law, grand children and great grand children.  The nonagenarian died in his sleep peacefully, smiling.  Probably he was cracking a joke in his dream!

Bhai Sahib, we miss you and your messages.  May your soul rest in peace!

P.S.  What do we do when we have to make a payment and don’t have enough bank balance, simple – just issue a post dated cheque.  When I was asked to write an obituary and I didn’t have a heart for it, I just followed the same principle, wrote a post dated obituary.