Friday, July 6, 2012

While the cat is away.....

Now like any pati vrata Bharatiya naari, (husband loving Indian woman) I am entirely devoted to my husband and constantly endeavoring to make life more comfortable for him. I do not disturb him when he's working (except maybe to remind him that my credit card payment is due!) I do not tell him to drive me to the market so I can do my shopping, I do not buy jewellery. I do not expect him to hold my hand when I cry or even expect him to visit my mother!All in all I am a very undemanding wife.
On the other hand, my world centres around him. Rushing home, planning dinner, seeing to the girls studies, ensuring he has his medicines, ensuring that the clothes are ironed and no one makes a noise when he's sleeping, little things, I know, but I'm nice like that!
But I have this little secret that makes my life whole and keeps me from falling apart. I love it when he goes out of station. I have my own little holiday, my me time. Like yesterday for instance. Hubby went to Delhi for some case. As soon as I heard the day before, my heart said "yay". I happily packed everything he would need including the medicines in little pill boxes and looked appropriately quiet as he left.
Then.
I made no dinner. I didn't even tell the maid to make anything.  The girls quickly finished studies and started communing with the TV. We dreamed of biriyani and then settled down to having 'wai wai' for dinner which was consumed by me off a big plastic mixing bowl in front of the computer and washed down with a rum and coke! I played on the ipad until I began to think a trip to the loo could be accomplished with a simple swipe and watched all the stupid stuff my daughters watch on TV. After they went off to bed I watched some more mindless TV! Then I went to my room where the girls were sleeping and turned on the PC and sat and read (almost) every status update on facebook and twitter. I BBMed a girlfriend late into the night! And before I finally slept I cuddled my daughters till they started squirming in their sleep! Morning came, I woke up feeling refreshed and relaxed (after all it IS Friday!), made no tiffin but gave the girls some lunch money instead. I had two cups of tea (something I never do) and harvested strange crops in my smurf village. I listened to music while getting ready  and I drove to Court catching up with Bollywood trash on the radio. I listened to every word of "munni badnaam hui" and "Bodyguard" and marvelled at the ingenuity of the song writers! And now I'm back home after listening to some more nonsense on the radio! And the spouse returns tonight but in all probability it will be too late to go to either of the two formal invitations we otherwise would have had to attend!!!!
Good fun, I say! A good time-out.

Now I gotta go. Make sure there's food on the table while I wait for hubby dear to return!



Tuesday, July 3, 2012

By special request: ITC hotels photography competition.



I rather fancy myself as a photographer. (Don't you?) Holidays, there I go, click-click camera on the ready. Even on occasions at home, be it my daughter's birthday, my brother in law's wedding, even the occasional get together family dinner. I specially loved photographing the girls when they were small. (And that was the age before digital cameras so it wasn't all just click and delete if you don't like it!) And I like to think I'm pretty good at it too.... Having said that, I am not happy about lugging a huge camera with multiple accessories around. I was happy with my Sony cybershot or even my BB camera and milked them for all it was worth. So to me, a photograph contains a memory, a moment in time: it would be good if it is also pleasing to the eye but one does not need a fancy shindig bazooka-like thing to take photos. We are not shooting for the National Geographic Magazine. Nor are we entering a photography contest here!
Or are we?
I was recently contacted by Neha Jain from ITC hotels regarding a photography contest currently being held by ITC hotels and she asked me to post a blog on this. Now a few lines are okay but I don't do endorsements. But then I sat and thought about it and remembered how much I love ITC. Or rather, the food at ITC. Just thinking about their kakori kebabs or biriyani makes me want to grab my purse and land up at Dum Pukht right now! A promise of their Christmas lunch buffets have me starving for three days in advance! And my favourite place is the Westview Bar and Grill, not only do they not allow children (wicked) they serve an amazing selection of grills, in fact just the thought of a baby octopus grilled with garlic and butter has my tummy rumbling!
Having said that, ITC is not a place we indulge in often. It's reserved for special occasions: prices aside, we do not want it to become "just one of those places". Specially for the girls. You see what I mean? So every, or rather, most occasions at ITC have been special. I have memories of the place. Flaming B52s and crepes Suzette. The cheese platter and the suckling pig! Our anniversary dinner followed up at Dublin. The yard glass at Dublin (sadly, they do not do it any more, last I went) Seeing Adam Gilchrist, Gautam Gambhir, Brett Lee and others during the IPLs(my girls were maha excited....!), taking "special guests" out for dinner, a birthday here, an anniversary there. But sadly, most of those memories are in my heart. I have no digital images, except for that of a cousin accidentally blowing up a glass of flaming B52 in her face! (Heh heh!)
So there goes. There must be others like me here. Come on, if you're reading this. Dig up those old pics, join the contest. It ends on July 15, so do hurry. Here's the link:
ITCcontest

For some unforseen reason, if the link is not showing up, try copy pasting this on your browser:

https://www.facebook.com/ITCHotels/app_404260449617421

Me? I'm just gonna sweetly ask my hubby to take me out for dinner to ITC this weekend, just to take photoos!!!!

Monday, June 25, 2012

This will not make me very popular with a lot of ladies I know.



Lets take another look at rape. Its the ultimate violation of the personal right and liberty of a woman. Not to mention a child or an elderly lady (yes, strangely that happens, too). But I am not here today to discuss the rape of a child or an elderly lady, in fact I am here discussing the rape of young and middle aged women in the cities. Sadly, that happens only to often. In and across all metros in India one reads about rape cases with shock, horror and revulsion. We outrage about it and go on our way. Then some top notch cop comes out with a statement that women should not wear skinny jeans or revealing clothing or something to the effect that the women "asked for it" and we outrage even more!
To what avail?
No, I do not think anyone ever asks to be raped,I do not think showing some cleavage or looking sexy means that a man has the right to impose himself upon you. Yet I do believe that one can behave and dress appropriately so as not to attract unwarranted male attention. Before you condemn me, let me explain.
See that woman in a tight clinging spaghetti top and hot pants that reveal her bum cheeks for the world to see? Yes, yes, she's dancing with that other hot girl in a mini.They look like they are having a blast. They both look good, a treat for the eyes. Yes, yes, all male eyes follow them across the floor, most lecherously, some even try to get closer. They flirt a little maybe, even allow someone to buy them a drink! And when they leave for the night, they step into their car and zip off. I can find no fault with that. Girls will be girls and girls are entitled to their fun.
Then there's the other woman, dressed more conservatively falling over her table, she's apparently tipsy and she is sitting with a bunch of strange men she only met tonight. The friends that she came with are long gone, she preferred to stay back and enjoy the atmosphere. When she leaves, instead of relying on a cab which is abundantly available at this particular place, she decides to leave in a car full of strangers who promises to drop her home.
Um? Any guesses about who may be complaining to the cops the next morning?
I'm not taking anything away from the seriousness of the crime or the heinous nature of rape. Take a busy street like Park Street in Calcutta at say, 9 pm. We are stuck in traffic. Two impatient teenagers jump out of their car which is also stuck in traffic and wriggle in their tight mini halter dresses headed for the disco on the corner. All I see are the eyes of every driver, paan-wala, roadside romeo, taxidriver and the passers-by. Can you imagine the lustful thoughts going on in their heads? Men will be men, you say. True, and then again more men will also be animals. Could the girls not have the sense of remaining in the car till they reached their destination instead of putting up this display?
Lets not hedge here. Or act naive. We live in India where men in general and particularly the common man on the street are sexually starved perverts. How else can you explain the pawing in a crowded street, the wandering fingers on a crowded bus? Even children and girls on the verge of puberty are not spared. In fact they are often the targets as they are too shocked to react or raise an alarm.
I look around me. The women of today want to wear what they want and do everything that is so socially accepted in the West. I am not against that. By all means wear your hot pants and jeans and cleavage showing bustiers and boob tubes. but please do so responsibly. While we are free to act and dress in a liberated manner, please do not forget where you are. Unfortunately we may end up aping the West in thought and dress but the mindset of the common man on the road remains frustrated and deprived, their mind sets remain full of sati savitri images of women at home while all other women are available and/or sluts. You'll be surprised, I have had educated men tell me "if a woman goes out of the house to work, it is likely she is having an affair" Another one I know actually sits at his work place and imagines every woman colleague to be horny because their husbands cannot satisfy them!
Yes, punish those bastards, castrate them even, gouge their eyes out, have stringent rape laws and appropriate punishment. But after what? After you or another young girl just like you has been mutilated and scarred for life? Is that not too high a price to pay for one reckless night?
So stay safe girls. Party hard, have fun but stay safe. And play safe.

Thursday, April 12, 2012

CSAAM April 2012-This one’s for the children.




The past days, my Twitter TL and inbox are awash with stories of child sexual abuse thanks to the CSAAM (Child Sexual Abuse Awareness Month, April 2012) organised by some very dedicated bloggers and social networkers. It is no coincidence either, late last month, a friend on twitter, @kiranmanral, asked me if I would write an article for CSA awareness, I was skeptical. “The legal aspect,” she said. I reluctantly agreed in a totally non-committal manner. “Let me see if I have anything intelligent to say,” I said, hesitantly.
Then I started reading up about child sexual abuse, not only in India but all over the world. The things I read made my toes curl. The stories wrenched my heart, some made me cry, some filled my heart with shame, anger and fear and each one made me wish I could somehow turn back time and hug those children and give their childhood back to them.
And no, I still have not found anything intelligent or ground-breaking to say. But I do need to get this off my chest. For my children, for every child everywhere. And most of all for the children we all once were!
Records show that India is home to more than 375 million children, comprising nearly 40 percent of the country’s population, the largest number of minors in any country in the world. Despite its holier-than-thou preaching of non-violence, tolerance, spirituality and respect for elders, statistics also show that India hosts the world's largest number of sexually abused children, at a far higher rate than any other country.
Yet, we do not hear about it. Why? “
The main causes are disbelief, denial and cover-up to preserve family “reputation”. Although, in fact, the problem of child abuse in India is highly pervasive, there is pretence that it only inflicts the West. What is even more striking is that in Western countries like those we like to ape, there are laws to bring such pedophiles to book. Child sexual abuse is recognized as a problem and treated with sensitivity and offenders dealt with severely.
But that is not how it is in India. For years, we have hidden this menace, swept it under the carpet and looked the other way. For “honour”, for “what will others say”? Indian adults often exercise a near-feudal hold over their children, demanding complete and unquestioned obedience. In the name of “respectability”, often, the child’s own personality is lost. A culture of silence and shame also swirls around cases of sexual abuse against children fogging the issue. (Unsurprisingly, the notion of shame is the single largest culprit in perpetuating sexual abuse against India’s children.)
No, I was never abused myself, but I know of enough people who have been. That child I know who complained to the mother because her ten-year-older sibling put his hands inside her panties was slapped and called a liar. Another was protected and cloistered by her parents but the uncle in question was never faced and allowed to go Scot free for “what will others say”. The third thought “at least when Papa sleeps with me he smells funny but he is nice, and does not beat me like the other men my Ma insists I sleep with!” Another 8 year complained to her parents and was told, “you are born a female, deal with it!” by the father while the mother just sighed. Yes, these incidents all happened at homes just like ours, well educated, “respectable” families in the 70s and early 80s. The children, if they ever were allowed to be children, are all grown. The first one grew to be a rebel and does not conform to any of our society’s morals. She takes intense pleasure in shocking her parents and their so-called values! The second withdrew into a shell and still has problems meeting anyone outside her immediate circle. She did not marry, could never let any man close. The third, luckily, was “saved’ by an unmarried Aunt who took her away from her family and she has been able to keep the nightmares away. “Most nights, anyway,” she whispered to me. And the fourth one left home early, married an abusive husband and now fights for the custody of her children. She also finds comfort in alcohol. And these are minor examples. I am skimming the surface here.
Do you still think any of these children grew up without angst, agony, mental distress or guilt? Just until the other day, we did not even recognize the problem much less address it.
Ironically, despite the magnitude of the problem, Indian courts offer little relief to victims, even if, in rare cases, it reaches such a stage.
The only legal recourses available to such victims are the extensions of “rape laws” or the laws relating to sexual molestation, which apply to women and are stretched to apply to children as well.
But rape laws only recognize sexual crimes involving “penile penetration” and are totally dependent on medical evidence. Such evidence is difficult to procure as child sexual abuse is usually not one isolated case but a whole series of them. It may even involve episodes in which the offender doesn’t even touch the victim.
The sexual molestation law, on the other hand, covers all sexual offences “that outrage the victim’s modesty,” other than penetration. Though this law can be used in child sexual abuse cases, its reference to “unusual sexual offences” makes it difficult for child victims to use this option as a legal remedy. Since the definition of sexual abuse is nebulous, victims are largely at the mercy of the court’s discretion. On rare cases when abusers are booked after a cumbersome legal procedure, India’s conviction rate is abysmal despite the country’s sophisticated and complex set of laws.
Sexual abuse of children is a very real problem in India, and the situation is aided by the absence of effective legislation and the silence that surrounds the offence. The definition of child abuse varies from country to country. Acts that result in physical, sexual or emotional abuse, or neglect of children fall under the purview of law in almost all developed nations. In India, child abuse exists in many forms, but the laws are still ambiguous and most children suffer in silence. In India, which places a high premium on chastity of women and yet has the largest number of child sex workers in the world, there is no single, specific definition of child abuse.
As late as in May 2009, alarmed at the growing instances of child sexual abuse, (or rather, at the fact that such cases are now finally coming out into the open) the Delhi High Court has called for a more stringent law which will also act as a deterrent, saying the definition of rape under section 376 IPC should be made age and gender neutral.
Justice S Muralidhar was hearing the appeal (Tara Dutt Versus State) of a man sentenced to two years imprisonment for committing "digital rape'' (inserting finger in vagina) of a five-year-old girl. The judge was upset that lack of a suitable law prevented the courts from inflicting the same punishment on him as that reserved for a rapist.
He observed “…..this Court considers that the inadequacy of the law has prevented the trial court from awarding a sentence greater than 2 years of imprisonment. Need for an urgent change in the law.”
"The offence of a child sexual abuse is an extremely grave one. Innocent and tender children are abused sexually through a variety of means, one if which is the present case. Such incidents leave a deep scar on the psyche of the child and has the potential of adversely affecting the child's emotional and mental development. The harsh truth is that these incidents are more frequent than we imagine and very often goes unpunished by the child suffering the trauma silently,'' the court observed, dismissing the appeal.
“Despite the report of Law Commission of India lying with the government for over nine years and the Supreme Court in 2004 hoping that the Parliament would make appropriate changes, it is a matter of grave concern that nothing has been done till date. The absence of a stringent law can only have the pernicious effect of crime continuing undeterred,'' the HC added, saying it was high time that definition of rape was made "age and gender neutral'' so that cases like Dutt's could be dealt with severely.
In case you are interested, the judgment can be found here: http://www.indiankanoon.org/doc/1701610/
So. In an attempt to protect children against sexual abuse, the cabinet, finally, on Thursday, the 4th March 2011 cleared a first-of-its-kind legislation which threatens stringent action against the offenders. The Protection of Children from Sexual Offences Bill is aimed at protecting the young ones from sexual abuse, sexual harassment and child pornography. The necessity for such a law was underlined in government data that shows that more than half of India's children have been subjected to such abuse. For the first time, the draft Bill distinguishes a sexual offence committed against children by persons in position of trust and authority over children, including a police officer, a remand home warden, hospital staff and school authorities. It categorises these crimes as being of "aggravated" nature with stringent punishment. The punishment for "aggravated sexual assault" is imprisonment of up to seven years with a fine, while penalty for "penetrative sexual assault" is at least five years in jail and a minimum penalty of Rs 50,000. Crime against children has been classified into that of " penetrative" sexual assault, which could be of aggravated nature also, and that of non-penetrative kind, which could again be of aggravated nature. For further reading on the draft Bill, see http://www.prsindia.org/billtrack/the-protection-of-children-from-sexual-offences-bill-2011-1598/
And what is the status of the Bill? Pending, of course. With more urgent things like the Lok Pal and corruption and the like, we have kept our children waiting.
And in effect, what will happen if and when such a Bill is passed and made into law? Will families come forward? Will a parent bypass “honour” and "family name" for the sake of a child? Or will the silent subservient children just remain silent? The cynic in me says that our hypocritical society will just choose to shut it out. And hide behind a strict curtain of “this happens only in lower classes”. "
The 'Study on Child abuse India 2007' conducted by the Ministry of Women and Child Development acknowledges that child sex abuse takes place in schools - and how. One out of two children in schools have faced sexual abuse. And overall, more boys than girls face various forms of sexual abuse - ranging from inappropriate touch, exposure to pornography or violent sexual assault.
During a study on child abuse in Kolkata, Elaan, an NGO, found that 4 out of 10 boys faced sexual harassment in school. Generally the age of maximum abuse is between 9 to 12 years. The national study found that the abuse gained momentum at the age of 10 and peaked between ages 12 to 15.
Child abuse is the physical or psychological maltreatment of a child by an adult often synonymous with the term child maltreatment or the term child abuse and neglect. There are many forms of abuse and neglect and many governments have developed their own legal definition of what constitutes child maltreatment for the purposes of removing a child and/or prosecuting a criminal charge. The report by the Department of Women and Child Development on the implementation of the Convention of Child Rights in India, prepared for the United Nations Committee on the Rights of the Child, has identified child sexual abuse as a priority issue for immediate action.
Apart from the legal dimension, child sexual abuse also has pronouncedly psychological and emotional elements. Worldwide surveys point out that such abuse negatively impacts a child’s physical, emotional and mental well-being, leading to severe behavioral and psychiatric disorders. Suicidal tendencies and drug abuse are common long-term effects.
A World Health Organization survey also points out that there is an unambiguous behavioral and emotional pattern in the abused. Usually the child hardly talks about the incident. And, even if he or she does, often, no one takes it seriously. That in turn triggers feelings of self-doubt and guilt, exacerbating the child’s feeling that it is his or her fault. As the child matures, compulsive behavior reinforces this guilt. Small wonder that many adult sexual and behavioral problems, according to psychoanalysts, trace their provenance to childhood abuse.
Yes, our society teaches us to respect our elders, it also teaches us unquestioning obedience. But what, when the elder is not worthy of that respect? What, when the very hand supposed to protect the child exposes the child to such abuse? How many of us, sitting in our sterile lives can imagine a monster like that entering our homes, living with us, breaking bread with us? How many of us talk to our children about it before it may be too late?
I recall a few years ago my daughters had a piano teacher, a 40-year-old male, who used to come to our house on Thursday afternoons when, generally, only a maid was at home. A dear friend, whose daughter’s learnt from him, had referred him. My elder daughter was seven. One bright day as I was egging the girls to practice the piano, my younger daughter piped up. “But Didi can only play sitting on the teacher’s lap!” An antenna went up. I stopped, “what?” I probed further. Yes, he insisted my daughter sit on his lap. Despite another stool being present. “And why do you not say anything?” “I did,” my daughter said, “he makes me uncomfortable, but he said he would tell you that I was not trying!” Alas. Had my piano ambitions distressed my daughters? I shudder to think that this “minor aberration” may have gone unnoticed. I called the man up then and there and told him he need not return to my house. The fees were due, he had erroneously left his cell phone cover at our home. But he did not say a word, quietly agreeing to my diktat. In my mind, that was in itself a confirmation of his guilt: so was I wrong? Was I hasty? No. I did not want to wait and find out. When I told my husband later, my hands were still shaking. Even now I shudder to think what may have happened.
I wish I could say that my daughters, who are now aged 11 and 12 are safe now. I have explained “good touch and bad touch" till I go blue in the face but I have no such guarantee. My only consolation is communication, a healthy relationship with the girls that ensures that they can, at any time, discuss anything with me without fear. At least that is what I have tried to instill in them, I keep my fingers crossed that our relationship remains that way.

And here’s what Wikipedia has to say on child sexual abuse in India:
“Nineteen percent of the world's children live in India,[164][165] which constitutes 42 percent of India’s total population.[166]
In 2007 the Ministry of Women and Child Development published the "Study on Child Abuse: India 2007."[164] It sampled 12447 children, 2324 young adults and 2449 stakeholders across 13 states. It looked at different forms of child abuse: physical abuse, sexual abuse and emotional abuse and girl child neglect in five evidence groups, namely, children in a family environment, children in school, children at work, children on the street and children in institutions.
The study's[164] main findings included the following: 53.22% of children reported having faced sexual abuse. Among them 52.94% were boys and 47.06% girls. Andhra Pradesh, Assam, Bihar and Delhi reported the highest percentage of sexual abuse among both boys and girls, as well as the highest incidence of sexual assaults. 21.90% of child respondents faced severe forms of sexual abuse, 5.69% had been sexually assaulted and 50.76% reported other forms of sexual abuse. Children on the street, at work and in institutional care reported the highest incidence of sexual assault. The study also reported that 50% of abusers are known to the child or are in a position of trust and responsibility and most children had not reported the matter to anyone.”


I want my children to read all this. I want my children to know the stark realities and yet I do not want them to grow up in an air of hate mistrust and suspicion. Not all adults are ogres, there is no need to paint a darker picture than it already is. They have enough to deal with without having to battle doses of gloom and fear. So I talk to them. I talk to each of my children, even my daughters’ friends, my nieces, nephews and friends’ children. I may shock them at times, but I tell them exactly like I think it is. I share my anger, my angst, my beliefs, and I also share the joys the kindnesses and the hopes. I try to teach them to be careful, alert and watchful and yet not give in to blind prejudice; I try to tell them that we are all there for each other. No matter what.
Imagine a room full of children, singing: loudly, lustily. There’s the one just mouthing the words, another sings flat and yet another is off-key. Some look the other way, while others only hum. Forget all that. Listen with your heart. And you will feel the joy surge around you….. I wish every child that joy. I wish every child could live it’s childhood in a world where the big bad wolf is confined to fairy tales and wicked stepmothers and ogres only a figment of the imagination!
Lets try to make that a reality, shall we?




Monday, February 13, 2012

ready for the funny farm!

Well its official now. I am ready to be committed. I have become that breed of person I cannot stand and never sympathise with: a hyper-mom. Let me tell you how it happened.
My daughter's sitting for her first ever final examination from Wednesday, the 15th.
Now, not being a phenomenally remarkable student, there is some tension about this.
First she has no concept of studying for an examination which has a extensive syllabus of eight to ten chapters for each of nine subjects thanks to the bright educationists who have decreed that there should be no examinations till class six.
Then she is the kind who reads something and then promptly forgets it. Unless it is set to music and sung by a high falsetto voice claiming to be male. A la Justin Beiber.
Thirdly she needs prodding. “Isha you have your exams coming up, there are only three days left. Go study.”
And lastly she is confident. " Chill, Ma, I have it under control.” (While it is also a fact that she has lost her science text book and all my hair is standing on end trying to procure a copy before the exam. She told me this last night.)
So horror of horrors when, last night she declared that she would 'study late'. I went to bed, uncertain of what I should do. The dear spouse said I should relax and promptly regaled me with gentle snores. The lights blazed in the next room. I hesitated. I decided she was old enough and I should "let go".
I “let go” all right. Only to wander into her room half a dozen times. Twice to comb her hair, thrice to ask if she was sleepy or needed any help and a few times just to see. (I shudder at the fact that she listens to music too)!!! Okay, so it was a few more than half a dozen times. So?
Now I admire those mothers in the ads who set an alarm and wake up, every hair in place, to hand a steaming mug of Complan or Horlicks or whatever to their children who smilingly drink it and declare their undying love for the milk and the mother. I am not so lucky. I followed the scritch-scratch noise and trail of blazing lights to the kitchen and found her gorging on bhujiya and sauce accompanied by a glass of Tang. I almost fainted. She shooed me away. “But I will clean up, Ma, don’t you worry. Its late, YOU go to sleep.” Sigh.
It was well past one. I resigned. I thought of myself sneaking about the house at all hours at that age and went to bed. Ah, but sleep is so elusive when you want to sleep. I shut my eyes and tried counting sheep.
Scuffle-scuffle. The bathroom lights go on.
As she exits I whisper, “have you brushed your teeth?”
“Ma, you scared me!” She whispers back.
“Whatever….”. I mutter.
The light in her room was on for another 30 minutes or so. Then the bedside lamp for another ten. I lay silently in the dark wondering when I had completely lost it. Was it right after she was born or has it just crept upon me slowly?
Of course I fell asleep after all the lights finally went off. At my own risk and cost and expense. So that explains the circles under my eyes, the bleary look on my face and my grunting. . while the daughter in question chirps about the house in the morning having slept till eighty thirty.. Take me away, keep me in a padded cell or I may permanently damage something here.
Till that happens, however, I have thought about it and I have a plan to tackle the situation so everyone will come out it alive. Tonight, I take a sleeping pill!

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Whatever.



I learnt a new Bengali word today: “ucchhed”. It means ‘eviction, I have been told. Each day on our way to court outside the PG hospital there’s this silent line of people bearing placards that say something “ucchhed”. By the time I read that word (printed extra large, of course), we are past the place and try as I might I cannot seem to get the rest. So today I dared break the sanctity of the serious silence in the car in the morning and ask my husband:
“what is ucched?”
He didn’t growl, not then, but he came close, “eviction”
“Of?”
“Hawkers,” he was frowning but I decided to push it.
“So they want it or no?”
This time he growled. “ why don’t you read the thing? It’s obvious.”
Well I am not completely daft, even I know obviously hawkers do not want to be evicted, but if I was to read that whole thing on the placard I would have to stop the car, disrupt the rush hour traffic and actually ask one of the guys to stand still so I can read the placard. Then I would probably ask the chap what it meant! (Why don’t they just have a translated version, in English, or am I the only one with this problem?)
I decided to push my luck and went on to explain why I did not “read it”. I also tried to add that I had been trying to read it every morning for more than a week and could never get past the “ucchhed” part.
But I was not allowed to complete. I bristled for a while when I was told to shut up. Then, another though struck me. After what I felt was sufficient time, I raised my hand to ask a question. (Yes, sometimes I am suicidal.)
Hubby grunted, “now what?’
“So what is bicched?”
“Separation.”
“Ah yes, as in marriage separation, ‘bibaho bicched’, THAT, I understand.”
But then, since the words sound similar, should they not mean something like each other? I muttered under my breath, ensuring hubby did not hear me. He would not take kindly to any further discussion, his face told me that. And we had reached Court.
Time to think of serious things.
But the thought stuck.
And I have figured that the words’ meanings do have some level of similarity, eviction, separation from accommodation and separation….as in separation…you get the drift? But I am digressing.

Thing is, I really couldn’t be bothered with the plight of the hawkers. A lot has been said and done. Politicians have changed their policies faster that their starched dhotis and things remain the same. Peaceful or loud, a demonstration is a demonstration and a strike is a strike. Today’s leaders are yesterday’s protesters, the one advocating peace is the one who rioted in the first place, the one quelling mob violence is also the one who used mob violence when it was useful.

Politics is a strange place with no principles. That’s the only rule: there are no rules. I do not understand it nor do I want to. We all know of many lawyers who make a smooth transition from law to politics to law, alternating between the black coat and the khadi jacket effortlessly. No such career options for me, i'm afraid, I am ill equipped to deal with these things, my ideas of how things should be do not coincide with the vote bank.

Like the men who spit in public. I think they should all be sent to jail. Or made to clean the spit with a toothbrush.

Like the taxi driver who violently waves his hand indicating he is going left and then startlingly zips off to the right unmindful of the fact that you have screeched to a halt and are praying the guy behind you will not ram into you. I think he should be whipped on the hand as soon as he dares stick it out!

Like the driver who honks for no reason in standing traffic, just because. I think he should be locked in a cell with only the high pitch sound of the blaring horn for company. For at least 24 hours.

Like the litter-bugs. Specially the housewives who slyly throw a plastic bag of smelly trash out on the street when they think no one is looking. They should be made to carry it about for a week, tie it round their necks so the rotting smell does not leave them!

Like the pedestrian who cannot walk on the pavement but insists on sashaying on the road headphones stuck in the ear oblivious to traffic signals or pedestrian crossings. They should be hung upside down from a traffic light on a hot summer day!

Like the guy who stands on the corner and liberally douses the wall with expletives from his urinary bladder because he can. He should be dunked in the vile stuff for a week.

Like the hawkers who take up more than half the pavement and thrust their wares in front of your face in the hope that you will buy something you do not want to buy in the first place. The guy who sits on the pavement and insists his mehendi is the best, the one who chases you with a remote controlled feathered toy (?) till you are safely inside a shop, the one who hangs female innerwear strategically on the roadside like some horror display. Yes, since they are demonstrating against their ucchhed (eviction), lets be kind here, I think they should all be sent to the Sunderbans to help build the embankment which the government has unsuccessfully been trying to build for almost three years since the “aila’ struck! You don’t believe me?
Check today’s Telegraph. Front page. Or try this link: http://www.telegraphindia.com/1120201/jsp/frontpage/story_15077234.jsp

Alas. Not quite cut out to be in politics, am I?