The Saga of a Saaree

FB is a time machine. It keeps on reminding you of your past, present and future to certain extent. Early this morning I wished a friend happy silver wedding anniversary and a few others, happy birthday.  This has become a routine now and rather an easy way to stay connected with friends. I am reminded that today is a special day. Two-Two-Twenty-Twenty-Two, a rare date! Though twenty-two is not that relevant, two-two or second February reminded me the saga of a saree.

Once upon a time, one gentleman, a bank employee used to unfailingly gift his lady a saree every year a day or two before second February. Just a day or two before, as his salary arrived usually on the last day of January. The excitement and smile on the face of the lady who probably got a saree only once a year was worth a million dollars.

The story is not about two individuals but about a generation which is slowly sinking into oblivion. A generation who lived a simple and quiet life without many indulgences, contended and happy with whatever they had. A generation that listened to Kishore Kumar and Lata Mangeshkar on Radio and whose rare entertainment was watching movies in theatres. Those who woke up early, had breakfast only after their morning prayers and never ever wasted a food grain. 

Their simplicity was their greatest asset. Happiness or sadness was seen on their faces. They probably believed that restraint was the best expression of emotions.  They allowed their children to thread their own path and watched them grow from a distance praying for their wellbeing from the depth of their heart. They came into this world silently, lived a quality life and left silently only leaving behind a path based on values for the forthcoming generations to thread.

Years have passed, it is said, lot of water has flown in the Ganges and today we are in year Twenty Twenty-Two.  Our wardrobes get filled with latest fashion dresses during every online and offline sale but where is the smile on our faces? We have probably shrunk to BHK flats and outsourced our kitchens to the zomatos and Swiggys. They bring the best of world cuisines to our platter, but where is the time to taste? When do we sleep to get up early in the morning?  In a world of information explosion and entertainment all around, where is the time to relax?

Sometimes a date can be a reminder and also trigger to a deluge of thoughts! Zafar Gorakhpuri, the famous Hindi & Urdu poet encapsulated these expressions in his poem दुःख सुख था एक सबका अपना हो या बेग़ाना एक वो भी था ज़माना एक ये भी था ज़माना which means sorrow or happiness were one for all whether it be your own or someone else’s. Beautifully sung by my favourite singer Padmasri Pankaj Udhas.

BTW: The lady and the gentleman mentioned above were my parents and the day two-two was their wedding anniversary. Once upon a time, a day of quiet celebration at home without any fanfare for many years!

Cat and the Birth Right

 About 40 years back, a school in one of the small towns down the southern tip of India had a lesson on Lokmanya Bal Gangadhar Tilak in class four English textbook.  The same Bal Gangadhar Tilak who declared boldly to the world that “Swaraj is my Birth right and I shall have it”.  At that point in time, I was one among the young minds who were inspired by him.  

Everyday, enroute my  office, I pass by the statue of Lokmanya Bal Gangadhar Tilak situated here in chowpatty (beach) in South Mumbai. This reminds me of the day, many years back when my father had first taken me to this same place to show the statue of Tilak during one our vacation trips to Mumbai.

Lucky for Tilak, he aspired for just one birth right, the Swaraj, self-rule, or freedom from the British. It was a slogan that inspired the country and the subsequent leaders of Indian freedom movement. It is said that the weapon should suit the opponent. The ‘weapons’ that the leaders of India’s freedom movement chose whether it is non-cooperation, hunger strike, Satyagraha or whatever were successful only because they exploited an inherent weakness in their opponent.  The Indians would have never won the mighty British in a traditional warfare.

In my daily commute, I see the nomads sleeping on footpaths of this same Mumbai, children begging at traffic signals, poverty, lack of housing and much more even after 75 years of Swaraj!  We have not just one but many birth rights now! The right to clean air, right to clean drinking water, food, clothing, housing, hassle free roads to commute and the list is endless.  

Back to daily routines, stray cats in our campus are a source of inspiration not to miss the daily walks. They come running for the few pieces of cat food offered to them during our morning and evening walks. Among them, there is one particular male cat that stands out from the crowd. He has all the mannerisms of a cat minus the meow sound. Probably dumb! He shows no signs of aggression and knows to rescue itself from all other fellow cats in the neighbourhood who come running for a fight with him. In the last two years that I have known him, he doesn’t even have a minor scratch on his body.

Sometimes I feel our situation too is not quite different from this cat. Raising voice for our birth rights has become futile. Our problems are to be solved by our own elected people. The fight is with them, and our arsenal is replete with archaic weapons. Like the dumb cat, our voices too are lost in the crowd and the resolution of the issues seems remote.  Like the cat who survives this hostile world, we too should find innovative means to rescue ourselves from all adversities around and strive for our birth rights.

What else can we do in this world’s largest “demons crazy” ?

Nation Building!!

 

This habit of writing down income and expenses daily, I inherited from my father. While my father used a plain diary, I use an Excel sheet. Over years this Excel sheet has grown from a simple list of items to a workbook to give detailed split up to the last Rupee reconciling with my bank statements and investments. So exactly on 31^st March, my personal Balance Sheet is ready.

For FY 2020-21, out of my total earnings, 30% was deducted by Nirmala Ma’am, our honorable FM as Income tax. I spent about 70% of the balance 70%, on petrol, vacation, dress, son’s education, insurance premium and other living expenses. The rest are my personal savings.

Obviously, different expenses fall under different GST brackets. Nearly two- thirds of my petrol expense is tax. In addition, considering the 18% GST paid on other expenses, my excel sheet tells me that 25% of total expenses was paid as tax. This means my total tax outgo is about 42% of my annual income which could go up to 45% including the tax on interest, dividend and investment income. My contribution to Nation Building!

 बोल वो रहे है, पर शब्द हमारे है. Though he is speaking, words are mine. Says the librarian to the dean during the Hindi speech by Chatur in the popular movie 3 Idiots. Whenever the prime minister of the day doles out thousands of crores into the accounts of the beneficiaries, or the chief ministers proudly waive off loans, I have the same feeling as the librarian. Though they are paying, the money is mine! But what the ‘Ranchos’ of the day has in store (बलात्कार of the tax payer!!) will be only known later. When my hard earned Maruti car is stopped on the way for a politician on an Audi to pass, I say to myself ‘All is well’ the Audi too is bought from my money for Nation building!

We are a developing country. We keep on developing. The same roads and bridges sequentially keep on developing. Storm water drains, cable laying, water supply, telephones, Metro and what not, keep on happening one after the other. Daily when I see people sleeping on foot paths, hungry children begging on the streets in a city where the world’s richest people live, I am reminded of my helplessness. I am reminded that all I can do is keep paying 45% of my earnings as tax. The ‘development’ is controlled by someone else.   

In typical Indian style, an uninvited guest or even a beggar is an embodiment of God. We say, the giver is blessed to have someone receive the alms from him. Lord Krishna says in the Bhagawad Gita, you only have the right to work but never to its fruits. Every time, the footpath is ‘rightfully’ occupied by vendors, the roads are dug perpetually, I have to pay a bribe, a politician roams around in a Fortuner, or the authorities squander money for nothing, I say to myself. I have the right only to pay taxes but never to its fruits!

I want money !

 

Yes. I mean it. Those of you who can spare some, please inbox me and I shall share my bank details/ UPI/ Paytm etc. Even cash is welcome too! 

When everyone wants money here, why should I be different!  Once upon a time, we were taught a Sanskrit poem which said न चोर हार्यं न च राज हार्यं……which meant knowledge is the most precious wealth of all that cannot be snatched away by a thief, cannot be snatched away by king, cannot be divided among brothers, not heavy either and if spent daily, it always keeps growing. 

But lately I realised that this knowledge is used only to acquire the ‘other’ wealth that  the family, government, brother, thief, and others seek / demand / snatch from you.

The omniscient gods too need money. On a lazy Sunday morning, just out of the temple after having a ‘Paid’ darshan of the God, I received a traffic violation SMS demanding a Rs.200 fine for parking outside the temple. I was soon greeted by a mobile number tucked under the wiper of my car and a wheel lock. Two policemen swiftly arrived within a minute of calling and politely handed over photographic proof of my “over speeding” violations within Mumbai city over the last 3 years! I had to pay some thousands on the spot to open the wheel lock!

We Mumbaikars, may be the only people in this entire world who are proud of two ‘Express Highways’ where the average driving speed during anytime of the day or night doesn’t exceed 15 Kmph! Obviously, there is no denying the fact that I am a traffic offender for over speeding on the sea link, a part of my office commute where I pay a daily toll of 105 rupees to save 10 minutes of my precious travel time. My engineering mind has never been able to fathom the reason for the T-Junctions at both the ends of this engineering marvel from where the traffic again starts crawling.

Everyone needs money. Some ask, some snatch, some demand, and some trick you to get it. The builders, supermarkets, chemists, garments, shoes even the roadside “Belpuri Wala” offer discounts galore to make me buy 5 when all is need is 2! 

“Sir the mutual fund in your son’s name (minor) needs churning. The current return on the same is 7.15% and we have an attractive investment opportunity to earn 7.25%.” said the female voice at the other end who claimed to be calling from my bank. She had all the information about me and wanted to sell an insurance policy which I politely refused.   

The Sixth century philosopher Sankaracharya, says in his popular poem “Bhaja Govindam” which goes as follows यावद्वित्तोपार्जनसक्त: तावन्निजपरिवारो रक्तः….. Your family and relatives will be interested in you only as long as you are able to make money. After which no one at home ever will care for you or even bother to speak to you. 

Let’s not waste time. Lets make money!

 

Someone bought me

 

Just now I received a call on my mobile phone. It was in chaste Hindi. I roughly translate the same here for you.

Caller: Namaskar Mahoday (sir) I am XYZ Dwivedi calling from Allahabad

I: Yes, what is it regarding?

Caller: You know a lot is happening in the commodity market

I: Let it happen, why Should I be bothered?

Caller: I have an opportunity for you

I: Who told you I trade on the commodity market?

Caller: Your number has been purchased along with our data!

I: Sorry I am not interested

Caller:  Fine sir (Call ends)

I thanked the heavens. What would I have done if he had said “Mahoday, I have purchased your number and I have an ownership over you”?

Years back when I joined a company in Mumbai from a remote town of south India, I was handed a neat envelope with a SIM card. I happily used it for years and that number became my identity in Mumbai. From Gas connection to Bank account to local grocer, everyone identified me with that ten-digit number. Sort of a “Kaidi” number in Indian prisons. Years later, to my surprise, I was told to surrender that number when I decided to move on. But even after a decade, it has not been erased completely from my “personal profiles” of many stakeholders in spite of my repeated requests.

That day I decided to buy a new SIM, a personal number in addition to the official SIMs handed over to me by my subsequent employers. Alas, today I am shocked to hear that the same number has been “purchased” by an unknown person from the holy city of Allahabad, the city of the Kumbh Mela, which I longed to visit but not been able to do till date.  

I remembered a story of the righteous king Harichandra in Hindi taught to us in school. The story goes like this. King Harichandra donated all his wealth and kingdom to the sage Vishwamitra. When the sage asks for Dakshina (Honorarium) along with the donation, the king sells his wife to a Brahmin. The Brahmin while taking away the queen (as slave), asks her son also to follow him with a comment “When the cow is bought, the calf follows her”

Though I have never read the fine print while signing up for social media accounts and other apps, it is a fact that those companies have access to all my personal data including the contacts, fotos and all my behavioural traits.

One day, I was sitting in front of my son’s class teacher in the mid-term “open house”, I received a message from a coaching centre offering 50% discount on fees for the subject in which my son scored below average marks. Cannot be mere coincidence. I am aware that not only by personal data but my movements too, are being tracked.

I am really scared every time my door bell rings. Who knows if someone appears at my door and ask me to follow him applying the logic from “Harichandra” story? “Mahoday, when your data is purchased, you automatically follow!”  

Picture Source : DNA India, Internet 

Be Positive

Many years back, my mother was hospitalized for sudden breathlessness. It was her first hospitalization in life and our family, experiencing for the first time such eventuality was totally clueless. The hospital, one of the best in the locality had to urgently shift her to a ventilator. I, the lone bystander 24 x 7 loitering around the hospital was told for the next one week by every doctor visiting her that she is “Stable on support”.

Like the discovery of water on the moon, the news of some fluid found in one of her lungs on the 8^th day brought smile on our faces. Our well-wishers explained to us what a ventilator is and consoled us that it is not the end of the journey of life.

Positivity is not always absolute. It could also be a ray of hope or silver lining in a dark cloud. The presence of an infection in the lung is not at all a positive news but the discovery of the same in a patient on ventilator for a week definitely is. It is not the news itself but our perception about it that makes it positive or negative.

It is said there are lies, damned lines and there is statistics. We all have been watching, reading and listening to different statistics, predictions and prophecies about the current and future situation of Covid infections, deaths and recoveries in India. Socially, geographically and culturally, India is so diverse. It is incorrect to compare India with any other country of the world some of which are smaller than many states or even districts of India. Even the Social Determinants of Health are different across the states of India.  

Any political party in India is or made out to be self-serving. This coupled with the lethargy of the system has always been the bane of the country whose first preference is not always the welfare of the people.  But it is found that during these testing times the central and state governments, irrespective of their hues and political ideologies have largely worked in unison. Of course, the situation is unprecedented and there are no ready templated solutions. Nevertheless, it is always easy to pinpoint the shortcomings.

Adversities are sometimes good. It makes us pause, take a deep breath, re look and take corrective action. It is said, if you are not a part of the solution, then you are part of the problem. Let’s be positive and be a part of the solution.

After discharge from hospital, during a follow up, the doctor once commented. Though we did everything possible to save your mother, it is her sheer grit, optimism and the relentless urge to bounce back to life aided her recovery!

Mothers are always unique. No matter whether she is mine, yours, mother India or Mother Earth, whatever be her suffering, all she can return is pure love. Her days on ‘ventilator’ are limited and she will bounce back with her full vigor.

Did someone say year 2020 is bad? Listen to the words of Mirza Galib by one of my favorite singers Late Sri Jagjit Singh. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w7ZusnFG1bg

My Possessions

Thoughts ceased to be random long back. Now they are triggered by the day to day events. A message shared by an old pal last evening is the current trigger. 

The message listed those twenty things that people who grew up during 70-90s in middle class families would cherish and identify with. The Phantom & Mandrake comics, the Bellbottoms, Camlin geometry boxes, the HMT wrist watches, the 36-exposure film roll, Abba & Boney M et al.

No sooner did I receive the message I went on a mission to search my prized possession, the hand wound HMT watch with date named ‘Tareeq’ (Pictured above), my father’s gift on securing ‘First class’ in 10^th Standard.  Lo! Here it is in one of those boxes on the attic.  Surprisingly it still works! Shows time same as my Smart watch!

Those were the small possessions we had at a time when we didn’t even 'owned' the houses where we lived. Seldom were the houses locked and if at all locked for a specific purpose, the key would invariably be available with the neighbour. The houses were small but not the homes and hearts. 

We even had a cat at home. A pet that we never owned. It used to frequent us for the regular doze of milk. The children in the family were no different. No one ‘owned’ us. The neighbourhood was our playground and we used to have food from any home whenever we felt hungry.

Times have changed. Now a days we always look at this world from our own perspective. Our lifestyle, possessions, habits are a by-product of how we perceive this world. Nothing wrong in having a perspective but problems arise when it contradicts the nature’s perspective. 

The cities we built, our houses and apartments, the malls and vistas and the residences that we own now are built with scarce regard for the nature. We even have pets, fat and plump in our 400+ Square feet condominiums well fed on the best packaged nutritious foods available. We fail to accept the fact that the ‘Bird’ never appreciates a cage though made of gold.

The prevailing lock down has in fact incarcerated us. Our collective efforts are unsuccessful in fighting a particle a few nano-meters in size.  All our possessions lay abandoned not even able to abate the hunger of fellow humans. All over the world, the inhabitants of this nature (minus humans) are enjoying our possessions. 

I am awakened by the chirping of birds, the murder of crows who congregate in the garden downstairs in an unpolluted, noiseless serene environment at a time when we are forced to follow social distancing. They are probably reclaiming their lost habitat long expropriated by the human race.

An old mechanical wrist watch is materially nothing in comparison to our expensive possessions of today.

Thank you, dear Sunil, for the thought-provoking message. Who wants to be identified with their possessions!

 I would prefer people identify me based on how I relate with this world I live in.