Roots Beckon!

For as long as I remember, I have always drawn enough joy and pride from the fact that I was born in the lap of nature. My native village, Brijwar, is located in Almora – one of the 13 districts of scenic Uttarakhand. It is placed on a foothill and is surrounded by a wonderful range of mountains. The journey from the arduous and boring landscape of cities to the breathtaking and refreshing views of my birth place is nothing short of an adventure. Once you reach within the radius of 20 kms, you can see the gigantic hills from a distance. The labyrinthine roads then lead you up to the top of mountains which then spiral downwards; and the routine continues for three hours (approx time taken to cover a distance of 100 kms on hills). Sudden mystic appearances of fog, rain and sunlight in turn on the way leave you mesmerized. Not aware of the scientific reasoning (clash of tectonic plates that gave rise to mountains millions of years ago), I spent all my childhood kicking my bottom wondering as to how mother earth had given way to such huge protruding alps. 

 Untill my graduation years, I used to visit my home town frequently but ever since I started working (for eight years now), the trips to Brijwar have been very few and far between. Fortunately, last month, we got a wonderful opportunity to go all bag and baggage with the entire family to the village. The occasion that called for the entire clan to be present was a religious ritual that takes place once every 30 years. It was expected to be big and turned out to be so. Most of the fellow villagers, like us, had moved to cities years ago for better prospects. In the past two decades, the exodus our village witnessed was alarming. Brijwar – once a home to over 150 inhabitants – has now been reduced to just 60-odd people. So, for this reason too, it was a heartening sight to notice the entire village back in its old glory and going full throttle.

  The religious practices continued for three days. All the denizens and guests participated in full vigour. Ceremonial dance and feast were organized; ritual killing took place (I seriously hope no animal rights’ activist visits this blog); other customs and practices were carried out in due manner; and pleasantries were exchanged. Now, I am not too religious a person and firmly believe it is the root cause of all the ills that are prevailing in the society today. However, I couldn’t help but notice the upside of it. Religion, as it is, and traditions help a great deal in keeping the social fabric intact. It keeps the society together and prevents it from falling apart. How else are we to justify the kith and kins and the distant acquaintances coming together here after years and in this magnitude? People join hands when it comes to performing pujas (religious practice), following centuries old rituals and traditions. Thus, it was a heartening sight.

Throughout my stay in village, my mental faculty worked at two levels. One was observing what was happening around and the other one was filtering the information and running it parallel to how things used to happen back then in older times. Since I had the luxury of time, I dwelt on these matters and wallowed in the past at length. Everything flashed before my eyes. How we would go in groups to distant places to fetch water from natural resources. What fun it was to play childish games while at it. It was nothing short of an adventure going to neighboring villages on foot to meet near and dear ones and trekking arduously to reach a temple of our family goddess which was about 10 kms from our village. The nearest telephone booth was three kms away and the electricity was yet to reach our part of the world. Compared to the same, we have water taps in each and every house today, roads have become better and the transport system has improved. Mobile ringtones can be heard from every corner of our village and electricity is in abundance.

Earlier, the farmers were largely dependent on their produce for their livelihood. Now, the educated and competent ones are vying for winning local elections, applying to schools for teaching assignments and turning tradesmen.  While all these development and forward-looking thinking is good, the rustic charm which has always been known as the hallmark of hills is found amiss these days. The villages are becoming more like the cities. People are fast turning into smugs. There is less of kinship, mutual love and respect and more of one-upmanship. I have no idea where will it lead us to and what fate we achieve eventually.

While all this seem to be deterrents, I try not to get affected by the same. After all, there is a long-standing connect with the roots that I find hard to forsake. The majestic mountains, free-flowing tributaries, eye-pleasing terraces full of rice, maize and spices; pristine air and favourable weather – how can one not miss them? The feeling of staying connected with one’s roots surpasses everything else.

Previously, my grandparents used to take care of our ancestral house but my grandma moved with us last year as it became increasingly difficult for her to manage without my grandpa who passed away a few years back. The house is lying vacant now and there is a sudden sense of isolation that has crept into my being. The feeling of drifting away from the motherland is rampant more than ever now.

We stayed at our village for about a week. When we left for plains, a part of me wanted to scream out in pain but the better sense muffled that voice. While coming back, I quietly made a promise to myself that I would be back soon and keep up this wonderful relationship that I share with my native land for as long as my body will allow me.

We may have come to Delhi for better prospects and leading a comfortable life but somewhere in the quest of attaining sophistication, our lives have become more complex as we have lost the simplicity in the process. Today, I might be a well-settled professional living in a metropolitan city and given to creature comforts but I still think I draw more satisfaction from rudimentary lifestyle than anything else. The serenity it brings to life is beyond words.

My heart is set in Almora and its country life. I think I am and will always remain a rustic at heart. As they say, you can take a rustic out of their village but not village out of a rustic. :-)

Egglomaniac!

“Egg main aur egg tu….dono mile iss tarah….aur jo tann-mann mein ho raha hai, ye toh hona hi tha!” My dear fowls (folks), I have a confession to make tonight. Yes, right. Confession. And the confession is that EGGS drive me crazy and how! After having eggs, I tend to lose control on my nerves, behave erratically and sometimes just ramble on. I can’t even get a song right whenever I am five-six eggs down. You must have seen for yourself how I struggled through the lyrics of a popular Hindi song in the first line of this paragraph. Tonight, my fowls, I am high on 14 eggs and feeling a little inEGGriated. While my senses are a little eggy now, I want to seize the moment by declaring my love for what I reckon is a blessing for mankind – Egg.

I am not worried or in the least bit embarrassed that people will judge me after this rambling tonight. I know I may wake up tomorrow with egg on my face. Some prudes (vegetarians) may scoff at me but what the heck! It’s a small price that I will pay to connect with hundreds of fellow egg-lovers on social media. They would definitely understand and relate to my emotions. Frankly speaking, I don’t give a chicken’s arse what the other half will think. And anyway, someone has rightly said that you can’t make an omelette without breaking an egg. So, let it be.

My love for eggs began when I was a child. So young I couldn’t even boil an egg to save my life. Today, I can’t thank my parents enough for initiating me into eggs. But the love was never this intense. It evolved with time and age. In fact, my fascination and love for eggs started with hate first. When I was a kid, my dad would mix egg-yolk into my milk and then ask me to gulp it down without creating a scene. His rationale was that it was healthy for growing kids. Though I would buy his theory, I used to find the pungent smell of raw egg-yolk repulsive.  For my parents, I proved to be a tough egg to crack. They would have hard time dealing with my tantrums. Then my mom came up with a solution. She asked me to drink my glass of milk (with egg yolk) with my nose pressed closed. Sensing I didn’t have much of a choice, I would meekly follow the instructions. Though it took some time, I developed a taste for raw eggs in my milk.  

The next wave came when, a few months later, we started getting one boiled egg daily with our breakfast. I took an instant liking to them when they would be served piping hot with chatpata masala sprinkled over generously. I was amazed to learn that raw eggs, if boiled, can result into such a tasteful delicacy. Also, it was the time when, like every other kid, I used to think for long hours about the chicken and egg situation. And like every other kid, I never reached any conclusion as to which of the two existed first and which caused the other.

In due course of time, I was introduced to omelette in different forms – Fried omelette, Half-fried (sunny-side up), Spinach Omelette, Iranian Omelette, French Omelette, Greek Omelette and, of course the very own, Indian Omelette. Also, I think the list will be incomplete if I do not add the mouth-watering Bhurji (Scrambled eggs) to it.

I remember quite vividly how during my primary schooling, I had fooled one of my best friends, Ashish Pandey – a vegetarian, into believing that eggs which I would get from home were not begotten from fowls but from machines in factories. I had to do this because otherwise he would not partake of my egg bhurjis and omelettes. He developed a liking for the eggs soon and I would happily share my lunch-box with him for years to come. He did feel bad for some time when I confronted him with the truth one day but that was that. Today, after all these years, our bonding has become even stronger. We recall that episode with great delight and just laugh it away.

Today, I may have graduated to Chicken and Mutton but the love for eggs is simply unparalleled. For a long time now, my favourite advertisements have been the ones by NECC that have beautiful lyrics “Sunday ho ya Monday, Roz Khao Andey” and I hate, even to this day, that story where the stupid and greedy guy killed the goose that laid the golden egg.

Sometimes I romance with the idea of investing all my savings one day into owning a huge poultry farm spread over many acres on the suburbs. I will then have an uninterrupted supply of eggs. Of course, managing thousands of fowls would be a tough task and having all of them creaking non-stop would be a nuisance but that is ok. After all, he that would have eggs must endure the cackling of hens.

On other days, I daydream of living it up in my ideal world where there is abundance of eggs, no bird flu and easy availability of good chefs who know how to experiment with eggs. I am sure such a society can never have a bad egg (dishonest man) and all the good eggs (agreeable & helpful men) will have equal and enough opportunities to flourish in life. I almost begin to revel in that surroundings but, more often than not, the worldly things and duties bring me back to the real world and add to my frustration. Frustration of living in a world where epidemics like bird flu can break out any time.  Bird flu means culling of fowls. No fowls means no eggs! For an egg-lover like me, this is only next to world coming to an end. Such a thought sends chill through my spine and I forsake thoughts of investing in poultry farm. How can I risk putting all my eggs in one basket?

(Deep silence for 20 minutes.)

On second thoughts, I think I spoke too much tonight. Excess of everything is bad. Isn’t it? We shouldn’t over-egg our pudding if we really want to enjoy it. I suddenly realize my fascination for eggs is bordering on obsession because I just observed that most of my sentences had idiomatic expressions related only to eggs. Hey fowls, I suggest you stay away from eggs else you might become my reflection. Wait a second…..when did I become observant? And how come I am sounding preachy? Guess the drugs (rich intake of eggs) are wearing off and my faculties are returning to normalcy. I think I will stop now. You all are educated, intelligent, seasoned and sound people. Preaching you will be like teaching your grandmother how to suck eggs. Gosh! This is going out of hand now. I think I am walking on eggs at the moment.

Hope you liked this blog. If yes, then three loud cheers and numerous eggs to life! If not, I frankly don’t give a chicken’s arse. Go fry an egg!

Draping Rape Mentality?

By the time you start reading this blog, reams of papers, hours of airtime on news channels and the ever-expanding world of social media will have covered the topic – that too at great length. Yes, I am talking about the social documentary made by BBC on ‘Nirbhaya-episode’. It is interesting to notice how this documentary has affected people in two completely different measures. On one hand, it managed to hit the consciousness of people and made them reflect over their other side while on the other hand, the film simply rubbed off so-called custodians (Political representatives and Law Enforcement Bodies) of our society the wrong way. Quite apparently and sadly enough, majority of the latter didn't even bother to go through the movie once before forming the ill-judged opinions.

The latest on the news section is that the documentary has been taken off the YouTube channel for it has the ‘potential’ to weaken the very foundation of our 2000-year-old rich culture. It is feared that our sensitive social fabric can fall apart if the naïve people are exposed to the interview where a rapist is voicing his thoughts. It will boost immorality and depravity in society. Really? Is the electorate of this country that fickle-minded? Are they stupid enough not to tell a right from a wrong? Please don’t kid me as now is not the right time. At least, I am not ready to buy this theory because I know for a fact that we are talking about the same electorate that, in 2014, had voted out a 15-year-old government that was screaming corruption and have set the other one right recently because it had started to show signs of arrogance and laxity.

Another stupid argument against the broadcast of the video doing the round was the fear that it would add insult to the rape-victim posthumously and her name should not be maligned further anymore. Wait a minute. Now, Please. Wait. For. A. Minute. Jyoti (Nirbhaya) wasn't insulted on the fateful night of 16th December. Her name didn't turn to mud because of what the rapists did to her. It was the failure of OUR society as a whole. The harrowing incident only highlighted how hollow our social system had become. Nirbhaya succumbed to the rape-inflicted injuries and left us all with many questions the answers to which we haven't been able to find ever since. So, it would be really sad if we ban the documentary on such flimsy grounds. It will be like draping over the rape mentality instead of laying it bare before the society. The need of the hour shouts out do the latter because now, more than ever, the society really needs to look into the mirror to notice that a part of them is fast turning into a monster.  

I will be lying if I say that I wasn't expecting the ban. Haven’t we witnessed the similar episodes earlier too? Episodes where things that didn’t appeal to the mindset of our so-called moral brigade ended up being censored! I won’t blame you if it reminds you of what recently happened when the AIB Roast went viral but I don’t want to digress here as we are dealing with a bigger (and a lot more serious) issue.

Why is there so much of intolerance, resentment and haste in our democratic society? If you ask me, the haste with which the custodians of our society resented over the entire episode first and then made efforts - showing the low threshold of intolerance - to get the video taken off the social media has taken me by surprise. Here, I am not using the word ‘shocked’ deliberately as the expression has already exhausted its true relevance and meaning long back to explaining what transpired on the night of 16^th December, 2012. I consider using the same to convey feelings for emotions other than that completely useless. Today, at this very moment, I feel anger, frustration, pain, sadness, numbness and listlessness. And I am sure I am not the only one reeling under such strong emotions.

If this documentary doesn’t evoke strong emotions in you, consider yourself a zombie! Take a look. Mukesh Singh (the convict) reportedly said, “a girl is far more responsible for rape than a boy”. He further defended the heinous act by saying, “When being raped, she shouldn’t have fought back. She should have just been silent and allowed the rape. Then they would simply have dropped her off after ‘doing her’, and only hit the boy“. I mean just hear out not just what the convict is saying in his defence but also what has largely gone unsaid. Look at the thoughts and language the defence lawyers are using to counter the allegations. It speaks volumes for what briefing they would have given to their ‘innocent clients’. More so, it reflects the parochial attitude of our patriarchal society. Shamelessly and conveniently, the two defence lawyers have put the blame completely on the victim (now deceased). Their sick mindset and even sicklier thoughts would rankle in your mind. This may also give you a sense of déjà vu. Simply because you must have already heard similar voices (thoughts) before….from the ones who are part of your social circle. Sickness, we must admit now, is deeply rooted in our society’s collective psyche and it’s about time efforts made at the grass-root level to bring about a positive change. But, the first step towards change is a little difficult because it begins with 'acceptance'. We need to accept first all that is rotten in the society. The next steps, comparatively, will be easier to take. Right education is what is required. Families and schools will have to play a major role in bringing about this change in the stinking mentality and laying the foundation for right attitude. If it happens, well and good. Else, we don’t need to worry too much about the future. As it is, our nation has already gone to the dogs!

P.S. – While I was in the throes of writing this blog, one celebrated clown on Times Now channel during ‘prime time’ was crying himself hoarse on how NDTV Group (on BBC Documentary) has sacrificed journalism at the altar of voyeurism just to gain TRPs. Case of pot calling the cattle black?

Bigg Loss?

For beginners, Bigg Boss is an Indian adaptation of the famous International Reality TV Show - Big Brother, a term which originated from George Orwell's novel Nineteen Eighty-Four. The concept of the show is such that a bunch of conflicting characters (lesser-known-TV-and-film actors) are made to stay with each other in a house for 90-odd days. How they turn friends, bicker on petty issues, get into ugly confrontations, form groups, play stupid, politicize the developments and try to nominate one another to be eventually voted out by audience one by one till the last man standing form the crux of the show.

Season after season, the show has been getting eyeballs. After the first few boring episodes wherein the contestants manage to keep up the façade by taking politically-correct stances, the audience begins to enjoy themselves watching the drama unfold before their eyes as familiarity (and competition) starts breeding contempt and the bunch of jokers come out of their shell and start baring their base selves.  And we, as a voyeuristic audience, love that!. Don’t we?

So, what kind of people makes it to the show? The makers of the show consider names that will get them a good mix of entertainment, vulgarity, controversy, romance, verbal-duels and well, lots of TRPs. Established celebrities usually avoid reality shows. So, either those who haven’t been lucky enough to get their ‘big break’ in the entertainment industry or ones who remain in focus for all the wrong reasons usually make the cut. Some of them accept the offer from the channel merely out of desperation while others come with calculated risks hoping that the show will catapult their sagging careers to new and favorable heights.

The host of the show is played, surprisingly, very well by popular film-star Salman Khan. I think there couldn’t have been a better choice. Though he plays the role of a buffer by showing the mirror to the participants every now and then, he himself loses temper and behaves in a quirky manner from time to time. Thus, his personality blurs into the format of the show to the T.

Now, what all happens in the show is not something that propelled me to write this blog. Instead, what caught my fancy is the intention and hope with which the participants agree to come on the show in the first place. If I am to put it succinctly, I would say it is decent money, national exposure and possibility of lucrative projects in future that drive them to join the show. So, what happens to the winners eventually? What about the runner-ups? Does the show really boost their career in any which way?

Contrary to expectations, history has it that the show has done little to make directionless careers head northwards. None of the winners from the previous seven seasons has benefitted from the show and went on to make it big. Today, as I write, the winner of Season-8, Gautam Gulati, must be over the moon and somersaulting in his new-found glory (He turned out to be the winner in the Grand Finale last night).

I think what proves to be the nemesis for the contestants is the fact that they get 'overexposed' on the show which is like a death knell for actors. I think actors need to have an aura of enigma and mysticism in order to be successful professionally. Once they get exposed to the death, they fall out of favor with the audience for they have seen all the facets of their personalities. Spectators tend to lose interest in the characters these actors play on-screen for they know how the actors actually behave when they face certain situations in reality. For example, if an actor (as a contestant on the reality show) is well-known for breaking down under slightest of pressure or doesn't know how to take criticism/ antagonism in their stride, he will never be convincing enough to pull off role of a tough cop on-screen. By the same token, if another actor is notorious for being a foul-mouthed guy, he would never be able to draw reverence from audience when playing God in a mythical saga.

It is indeed heart-breaking to see that even after struggling throughout the seasons and passing the litmus test, winners’ careers do not get wings. I seriously hope that, unlike previous victors, the winner of this season (Bigg Boss-8) goes on to succeed in life and bags lucrative offers in the industry. Sadly enough, that hasn’t been the story so far. They come out of obscurity to give fleeting public appearances only to be slipped back into the abyss of oblivion and mediocrity. Alas!

Greeting New Year With Hope

Welcoming the New Year sans any resolution, one feels something hugely amiss. I am experiencing the same feeling right now. But still, I am OK with it. At the start of every year, millions of people across seven seas anyway make resolution which they never adhere to beyond the first phase. I, myself, have been a serial offender in this case. Moreover, I think, we have seen so much being taken away from us in the past one year that all other things appear pale in comparison. Then why must we follow the stupid practice? So, today, on the very first day of 2015, I am getting rid of the resolution-making habit. Instead, I am trying to revive the 'hope’ that has died inside me. 

As it is, a bit of introspection made me realize that what usually makes us feel truly happy and worthwhile may not even present itself in a physical form.  All the worldly things are made to appeal to human senses but not necessarily they bring peace of mind and inner happiness.

See, I am a fat guy and I understand that if I exercise regularly from now onward, it will make me fitter and healthier in future. But will it make me happy? I am afraid I am not sure.

I started earning seven years back and my first salary-check drew me Rs 6000. It was not much but still it made me happy. Today, I make a decent cut by any standard but does it please me? Do I feel content with it? I don’t quite know the answer.

I used to feel happy when I would see chirpy and innocent kids walking up to school in the morning. For a few fleeting moments, I would forget all my problems. The feeling is not the same anymore. Now, every time I see a school kid, the disturbing images of the massacre in the army school of Pakistan by terrorists hit me like a bullet. It has become increasingly difficult for me to disassociate the ills of society from whatever good is left in the world.

I will feel good if my peers feel good with my personal growth and happiness. I will feel better if my colleagues feel better at my professional advancement at work. I will feel truly happy and amazing if there is less of hatred and war and more of love and peace in the world.

So, on this first day of the year, I just ‘hope’ that the coming days, weeks and months will witness more of tolerance, peace and unity in the world than anything else. These three things together form the core of humanity and score over everything else. Our world will indeed be a better place to live in even if we are left with just three of these things... because, at the end of the day, everything else doesn’t really matter. Does it?