Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Bhindian diyan gallan

BHINDIAN DIYAN GALAAN

Dear Sarpanchani Sahiba,

Sat Sri Akalji, I would like to bring to your notice that I am tied on the village dher post (garbage dump) and at night the neighbor Banti slyly milks me in connivance with the pair of snakes living there. Sometimes, the snakes also milk me and because of them living there, nobody comes close by; as if you disturb them bad luck follows you for 7 years.

I want justice and swift action, needs to be taken. Please schedule me for an audience with the panchayat on the coming Sunday.

Your’s faithfully,

Kali Ga with a chitta nishan(cow with a white mark)

This is a truthful letter which was received by mother –in law who is an elected Sarpanch.

Do not make fun of the innocence or the naivety of the villagers residing in the villages of Punjab; this is the story of real India which I would like to highlight to you all. We need to address these problems of superstition, ignorance, lack of education. All else, are elitist problems. Do you think the 67%of Punjab is bothered about what happens in Copenhagen, or whether the glaciers are melting or whether Headley is a rogue agent? We need to break free from the cocoon of information around us and try a dose of reality. The name of the village is changed.

Sunday, December 13, 2009

Daarji's entrance

He walked in an immaculate cotton white kurta-pajyama clad in the softest pashmina toosha lohi his footsteps beating a welcome to his grand-son's room . He was followed by his man-servant Momin who was there always in his shadows ready to anticipate his every whim and fancy. Never ever , since he had crossed over from Sind, south west of Punjab(India ) had he ever had said no, to his master to whom he was bound till death . This practice which had all but died out was upheld by him as a testimony to the zamindar-naukar traditions which were unexplainable as they were tied by invisible bonds.
Clearing his throat to announce his entrance he walked in, boldly to glance at his sleeping grand-daughter who was precious to him than anyone else in his life . The look which she gave him and the lisp .....it just tore at his heart. Agreed, the khaandaan 's line was assured but this lil' girl was his jaan.
Gazing at his grand-son who was sleeping in the day-crib adjacent to her bathed in the morning sun , he was a throw-back on the family's good looks.
Walking out to the family living -room , he glanced at the furnishings which were de riguer in every up-scale home in Chandigarh, but did these crystal pieces and Laliques, silver artefact's be a promise to happiness and peace?He had travelled all this way from pind to make peace with Parkash, an enigma of a woman,if any.
He was different from as chalk was from cheese but the love they shared for their child united them and they kept their appearances and now it was time for the round in Chandigarh. he had to go through a lot this month , with all the celebrations and the huge path which was being organised for the naam karan . Getting back to Sudoku, he waited patiently for his Sardarni to walk in......

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

the festivities

Oh, Ye! of the lost innocences, how the cover of darkness hides us..Rhea was amazed at the lines which were repeating in her mind while she was staring at the crowd collected in her living-room similar to the glass-eyed looks of a cow..Everyone was busy with a glass of the finest wine, single-malt whiskey (if you,please ) and the bar operated by Karan had everything going ..there was something for everyone. He really had splashed out to celeberate the arrival .How is that,an ivy-league education, a modern upbringing gets clouded by the birth of a son? There was so much disparity, or maybe she was just plain tired. Rhea made her excuses and moved to her room where , she checked on the baby in the crib and Kudrat sleeping on the bed sucking her thumb;insecurities surfacing.Karan entered the room brandishing the famous robin's egg blue Tiffany box. Forgetting her aches and pains she exclaimed "Wow" You had to hand it over to him..the panache and style made him the man he was , she hugged and kissed him..The card from Tiffany's said,"There are times to celebrate, this is one of them" enjoy!Love Karan. The sapphire ring encased with diamonds had an engraving on the inner side..She was going to be the envy of the gals, eat your heart ..she thought.Nobody and that is nobody had ever been gifted a gift straight from Tiffany&co. She had made it to the top.In fact she thought it was worth all the pain and putting up with the relatives.Closing the door, and looking at Karan who was waiting for her near the bed, she thanked her stars for being blessed.
Mama, would look after the guests and would send them off along, and tomorrow anyway was an imp. day Daarji was coming to bless the baby from pind.She wondered what was in store for her closing her eyes....

Friday, December 4, 2009

death, funerals,crocodile tears..

I just came back from doing "afsos"..the punjabi way of giving condolences when someone passes away. We all do it, are guilty of mumbling words of sympathy and shedding tears ;whilst remembering our own pain.


She sat there mute , eyes swollen with tears, her fingers rhythmically pleating her shawl as if this repetitive exercise would free her from the cudgels of life and death. For the family, they had lost a son, a brother , an uncle to many , loved by the village folk . She , who had to hide all her sorrows of him being an alcoholic, a wife-beater had to enshrine him forever to the highest levels of
saint-hood.
I wondered, when we all walked away, was she trapped for eternity or had she been set free by her husband's death? Would we the society let her rejoice freedom or would we condemn her to a life of stricter rules??

Thursday, December 3, 2009

homecoming to chandi'

Life is a bed of roses but for her tonight it seemed as it was raining!! All her favorites were lined up and Mrs Khullar had been roped in it seems to transform their room to the Botanical gardens at Kew .. very filmi!!!

Karan had prepared the the room as if, they were consummating marital bliss for the first time..She stifled a giggle,it all seemed /appeared corny to her , all these attempts to welcome her ;honestly it resembled a'B' grade movie she thought hysterically.
Maybe, it was her nerves but she didn't understand all this fuss. The welcome, the stringing of lights outside(the kothi) resembled a x'mas tree, the 'dholi' belting out Babbu Maan's new chartbuster and the people...It resembled a pre-wedding party, everyone decked out with the newest creations from Mintu matching with the oh! so correct jamavaars , decadent solitaires
Didn't , they understand that she needed her space ?
She, had just come back from Delhi with the baby, Kudrat , the new maids and all the luggage, she still needed to get her bearings right.
Karan , had the whole seduction scene planned out and her mom -in-law had her dragon club together to show-off the baby , physical proof, you see.
And her coterie of well-meaning friends were all huddled in a a corner and all she wanted was to curl up and cry, but grinning and smiling she said ssa! and "matha tekoed", the first of many back breaking of the evening.

Monday, November 9, 2009

Pushing aside the attendants and mentally noting the décor of the beautiful, well-lit room, Mrs Parkash Kaur, the proud ‘dadi’ (paternal grandmother) picked up her grandson. The joy of holding one’s grand –son surpassed everything…The stigma of being barren in the sense that till one doesn’t bear a son has passed the ‘parivaar’ (family).

Rhea watched her mother-in-law, this sophisticate matron who ruled the elite, select echelon of the ruling Jat families which mattered with an iron glove melting at the sight of her progeny. It didn’t matter that Kudrat was the first born, cynosure of everyone’s eyes. She would have to fight forever. From the moment of conception, to the suspense of what sex the baby would be to. The girl child has to even fight for the right to be born from within.

This strange dance between the x and y chromosomes determines destiny in every household of Punjab striking at the heart crossing all boundaries of wealth, caste, creed.

Shrugging and quashing these philosophical thoughts Rhea thought mercenarily of the shagun, Mama had brought. Would it be a diamond ‘n emerald set from Suhaas or a polki one from Suranas??

Well, she knew she had hit the jackpot.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Blessings.....dejavu'

The blue chikankari georgette suit had been stitched and delivered to coincide with the birth, the conviences of planning and delivering a child had made life so much more orderly. One could choose the date, time and voila! have a baby with the best of ‘rashees’ (acc. to Punditji).

This influence of Hinduism and rituals was rooted deep in our psyche. And by the way the blue was chosen deliberately, not even the Fates could cross the line with her today.

Words failed her, when she gazed upon kakaji for the first time .He was beautiful as all babies are, tears fell from her eyes.Her mind wandered and started reminiscing when Karan was born and ‘Vade Bibiji’ (her authoritarian mother –in –law) had acquiesced her as the bahu. Her position and her identity were cemented after 8yrs.of barrenness, sly remarks and the gazillion powders and mix which ensured 100%conception.

Why is that, when we talk about equality of woman and revival of Sikhism, free and compulsory education and all sorts of projects started by the so-called custodians of power; Punjab is passing through its darkest times?

Are we the custodians of the future or the mute murderers of humanity in the name of these dogmas which inflict us????

Mrs Prakash Kaur took out a bundle of crisp notes from matching blue Aigner clutch and ceremoniously vaaroed it and gave it to the nurse on duty. The nurse gasped , but thought strange are the ways of these Punjabis…..

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

congrats !! its a boy..

Rhea delivered the “heir ‘to the zameen, finally in the most exclusive birthing clinic in Delhi which resembled a 5-star hotel more than a hospital. Honestly, the receptionist was Botoxed more than the Page 3 babes of the social circuit. Giving birth to the much –awaited Waaris of the khaandaan relieved her troubled , stressed out mind .Rhea had realized that a woman in Punjab is known by the sons she produces and not by any other qualification .This ailment affected the strata of the society from top to bottom and was weakening it like termites …..

All this so- called modernity and advancement in equality was a hog-wash. Surrogate mothers were being roped in and were the nom de guerre these days.Mrs Prakash Singh entry enveloped in a cloud of Allure followed by the retinue of maids who were carrying the congratulatory thaals of laddoos( to be touched by kaka ji ) and distributed among the people in the pind of qadoville!!

wait for the drama tmrw...

Friday, August 28, 2009

rhea's dilemma

Rhea’s Dilemma: What every mid 20yr old, thirty something faces in the so –called modern cities of Punjab. How to produce the rightful heir? The pressures to reproduce/procreate the ‘waaris’ are insurmountable. There is an impasse’ between the old and the new where one is stuck at the thresh-holds of having a healthy child v/s a male child




The constant pressures, the taunts and the mutterings and the not so subtle comments had reached a level where had Rhea wanted to run away. Kind phrases , slight hints of doing it in a particular way and at a particular time of the month and eating an apple a day in the morning as it ensured a male child were sound-bytes that had been droning her ear ever since Karan and she had celebrated their first wedding anniversary.

Dam it, she said to herself as she adjusted her pale blue chikankari dupatta that had been starched to perfection by Weldon aunty ji and simultaneously invoking a prayer to babaji urging him to take care of her whenever she would go to meet to the local God man, a favourite of all mothers-in-law, since he promised a100% guarantee. The appointment was not far.

Carrying a huge basket of fruits, including Californian apples and Chinese pears and a silver thali laden with Nathoo’s mithai covered by a co-ordinated pink tissue and a cloth pouch filled with an offering (minimum 10,000 Rs, Sheela said) mummy ji steps into the car shouting for Rhea as Sant ji was said to be very punctual.

God! This girl,she must be applying her sun screen. Her obsession with being white….. If only, she would produce a male heir, all my problems would vanish after which I can die in peace thought Prakash Kaur doyen of the ladies club sector9.

Who will look after Lalji and Rhea in their old age? hai mera munda’Our family name , zameen ….izzat.

In a silence thick enough to be cut with a knife, the duo move to Zirakpur with the tenacity of An Indian general leading his troops to fight against the Pakis.The move to the battle post sorry Dera of Khuwasianwala Babaji, where woman from all over flock to be blessed with the golden child!

Forget the fact that it’s got to do with the sperms or heaven forbid! The laadla munda! Never ever suggest this to a mother-in-law thought Rhea. She a product of the finest schools and the best college of the country had no choice over this, just produce the rightful heir and all systems were go.

Babaji sitting in an opulent gaudy room with temperatures freezing (enough to freeze off all body parts) thought Rhea with a giggle SShh!! Mummy ji glared at her and shoved her to get blessed by his liver-spotted podgy hands. Babaji, giving her the look over instructs her “Beta, mix this in Kaka’s milk at night” The sachet which is a miracle drug equivalent to apni ol’ little blue pills.

Babaji’s success rate has all of Chandigarh under his sway, so Rhea goes along with it and placates Karan to try the holy powder. The night gives away to the morning and success is guaranteed; there is nothing as failure in Prakash Kaur’s house.She waits for the door to open and mentally promises extra Prasad to bhaiji and a gold kara to Babji nine months hence. What, if the elusive heir is born?

Thursday, August 13, 2009

old age , hai budhapa'

Old age home means...

I know you know the meaning of this because you are on the net and have a reasonable level of IQ; you don’t need an English lesson last of all from me! It so happened that I viewed a program on TV on Old age homes and the rising number of these establishments. You can actually sort them out by city (courtesy bing) So, go ahead book yourself a place.

I belong to the old school of thought where one is duty bound to look after one’s elders and not shunt them to these establishments. The rising number upsets me. Why have we started to shirk from our responsibilities? Why is that we (this present Gen-x) shy away from old-age the approaching infirmities? Why have we started sprouting these mundane statements like...we are too busy, there is no good help these days, they demand too much attention.

Is this a sign of not facing reality? Is it because we shy away from anything which even suggests the first sign of wrinkles and mortality? The road will be travelled by us, make no mistake. Old age, death is inevitable as is the path on which we tread from times of Manu.

Question yourself, in regards to the inhumane treatment meted out to our elders who are shunted out because they talk too much or demand incessantly and whose reason for existence is justified till they don’t will their property.

I know you all are going to say this is shocking, but my dears this is how society operates. Sorry, to have hurt your feelings.

Indians have opinions about everything. No matter how ill informed, one-sided or self-serving it is we have an opinion. It is a national past-time… anybody who is worth their 2 rupee knows this so. What do you think? Are these institutions needed for our society (the framework of which is deteriorating) or should we uphold our traditional ways of looking our parents?

Think of yourself shunted into a sterilised, falsely cheerful, pastel coloured room with a few of your possessions scattered and tables lined with essential medicines to keep you going ……waiting for the nurse to come to break the eerie silence.

Monday, August 3, 2009

Rhea's morning.. thoughts

She looks in the mirror (reminiscent of MJ’s man in the mirror!!)And she shrieks, the minute clean pore Neutrogena mask has made her face look like a monkey’s bottom!!! She stares in amazement and starts crying... big fat tear drops rolling down her crimson cheeks and she shouts for … Ice and in a pace that would put the reigning 100mt.Olympic gold medallist Bolt to shame she whips out her Emergency Body Shop Gel mask, gently puts it on.

Rhea invokes a prayer to Babaji and promises 10 japji sahibs so that this redness goes down! She hurriedly wears her new suit-the latest creation from Abu-Jani white on white, subtlety personified. No one, in Chandigarh would have anything close to it: the thought brings a smile to her troubled face. Oh Lord, she still has to pay for it and she is overdrawn for this month. Extra cajoling and love for Ranbir tonight. Getting her sad face on (make up has to be subtle, eyes more expressive with the right lip colour from Guerlain) along with the hair done in a low bun by Asha with a little puff in the centre so that the glasses can be perched absolutely right under the dupatta.Diamonds flashing of the right cut and carat in their platinum setting (gold is so passé’) clutching her new cream on cream Judith Leiber she walks out of her house tossing instructions to Sheila. Pick up the children, give sahib his lunch, get flowers from Khullars for tonight and don’t forget book me for a pedicure at Iris.

Glancing at the time, wondering how time flies she steps on the gas to reach for the gurudwara.It is so important to be on time. Her parents had always ingrained into her a sense of discipline and punctuality. Rhea walks in the cynosure of all eyes, ramrod straight (Thanks to all those years of deportment classes) to “matha teko”. She sits down in the middle and mentally thanks herself. Joined by her coterie of friends who ooh, and aah her on her suit and her bag ….they all take Prasad from bhaiji after blotting it on their napkins.Oh so much ghee... extra cardio, for sure tomorrow.

This is the best time when they can smile and glance at the same time while keeping a solemn face and gossiping about everyone. The daughter-in-law who hurriedly picked up all the pashminas and the diamonds before the daughters could come home and poor Mrs K. shifted to the annexe in sector4 by the family as she was cramping their social life .Sad, that people who give us birth and make us who we are end up spoiling life for us.

Rhea stays for the requisite half an hour like a Prima Donna, because more time spent would lead to diluting the mystery she loves to create. Elusiveness, deflection are important in the society we live in, the walls we have created are fragile and are held up high by values which are weak and are measured not by honour, integrity but by the money, power, material things one has .And, heaven forbid if one is seen to be desi because shunning the roots and adopting a western lifestyle means one has arrived.

Saturday, August 1, 2009

Rhea's Mornings...

Oh my God! It’s going to be 10.30am and the stupid maid hasn’t given me my chai... Sheila where are you? Get the tray ready... I want a separate set with my favourite. Earl grey dip-dip and arre... where is the cook? Bhaiyaji... What did u give the children in their Tiffin? Did u pack the biscuits I had picked up from nix’s?? Accha, chalo... Jaldi call Sheila... has she ironed my suit? Where is my cell? Oh, you didn’t put it for charging. Muttering to herself the commission one pays for these maids to the chappie in Delhi horrendous! And she can’t even get my things ready... have you called Asha to do my hair?? Yes meme sahib she meekly replies with half a smirk.

Iron my shirt the white one, the mukaish one. And then for the bhog get the new suit out which was delivered yesterday. Why, oh why do people have to die in the summer and then the bhog?? I think I’ll enter at 1pm when the kirtan has finished and the Ardaas is going on. I think the bvlgari shades would look good rather than the Ferragamo one’s .That makes my tint look better. Sheila, Pani Bharo... and I’ll have my muesli with chilled milk with a boiled egg... Give the yolk to Simba pl. You can’t trust these servants to do anything right... She’ll keep on eating on if you don’t keep a check .Damn, this Rujuta Diwekar and her new diets.. Ahhaa the aroma of aloo paranthas with butter melting on top.. You know that song...”Kahaan Gaye who din…..” That’s the story of my life! Getting ready and pampering one self is such a task. The finest of scrubs and the new magical regime by shiseido to protect oneself from this harsh sun...…it’s horrendous how women let them selves get all tanned and the pigmentation.Eeks!

Rhea walks out of her bathroom half an hour later in a cloud of Allure…..

p.s. catch Rhea in action tomorrow...when she makes her entry for the bhog at the sector 8 gurudwara at1.10

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

The Parting

It’s the time of the year again. No, its not the elections or the all-decisive budgets which hold us in sway or the looming dark clouds in the horizon or the lack of them which is a national past-time BE IT THE TOPIC IN THE MALLS, COFFE-PARTIES , ADDAS OE EVEN THE Sukhmani sahib kitty!!) It’s something more …. It’s when the kids go to boarding school after a fantazastic break at home full of hugs and kisses and messy living areas and smelly shoes and you wonder why you ever bothered with the cushions!! It’s a magical time. I wonder where the time flies , it starts to be along break and before you know it’s all over in the bedlam and chaos of movie bookings, cooking gigantic bowls of pasta with meat and more meat minus anything which remotely looks green , the all favourite pancakes smothered and dripping with syrup and Hershey’s chocolate…. Yummy, sinful chocolate cakes and decadent desserts..

I start out waiting for them and promise myself to be a “propah” mom by ensuring time plans for watching TV, surfing, psp’s and fb ing and not strain their eyes (like their mom who is blind like an owl).. And most of all contriving to give them a balanced diet in compliance with the highest standards of mom Dom!! Eat dal, get your proteins, eat badaam beta, don’t eat too many ice creams. Way too many calories and don’t drink diet coke (thanks to Gobind who gave us an impromptu lesson via a letter that drinking coke leaches off calcium and weakens the bones ..and the minerals pass through urine! Trust me, it sounded worse in person than written!! Great going Sanawar…After a wk, of being this regimental mom I slide into being their best friend, confidante eagerly doing and letting them do what they should do..(Allowing them to let their hair down) literally. It’s a continuous party full of junk food, chocolates and re-runs of all our favourite movies.. Which we watch like the annual hajjis!!

Time flies and I wish I had the time turner like Hermione but alas, J.K. Rowling didn’t extend it to mommies like me.

It’s a kaleidoscope of hugs, kisses and don’t worry mom and chill out mom, intermingled with scolding and101 courses of how to charter one’s lives with my personal gyan of how God is important .That and visit to gurudwaras do help me in cementing them to their roots in a tiny way in this fast-pacing materialistic ever evolving world of technology. We come to the frenzy of last minute trunk packing and visits to the tailors for the perfect grey trouser with the whitest of white shirt for school.. And the most important tuck shopping... the last week is a mad-house with temper tantrums by Gobind and disappearing appetites by Onkar and more cuddles than before

Snatches of sleep and one more mt.and discussions that why Simba shouldn’t get human food remains rampant. And, then we pack off loaded with everything they might possibly need with

the juggling act of let them not get too many creature comforts so that may not be labelled as wimps /sissies but not lack anything thereof.

The last turn the last climb of Sanawar is there too soon and after settling them, I make the journey back with a quietness which pierces you

The lull …..They say be strong, its for their good but it s like a dull ache which everyone says goes away but how do u fill it?

Thursday, May 28, 2009

getting started..

hi, it seems terrifying at first when u're starting out but till you actually take the plunge all seems 'phoren' .. i guess that's why i've been delaying it till this auspicious /inauspicous time( actually didn't get to chk with pandit ji!!) hmm, !! next time will start of by doing it by the time- tested way blessings et'al..
and , you know what now that i've started it doesnt seem so bad. life is full of these baby steps and as i've guided my kids to venture out and to walkabout ( not the aborigine way!!)we all need to remember that . i wonder why we forget that ,its the  old adage of preaching and not practising .im guilty of that, too. well, promise u'll do what i did today take the baby step and atleastdo one thing is in your heart but u've been putting it off ... TAKE THE PLUNGE THE FALL IS WORTH IT!!