lohri, fire within

Every day countless children are born, some make it, some live and some die and some are killed. It is the sad, brutal truth that we face, ignore and shove under the carpet to be socially correct, as the constant drive to have a son is the driving force in all the procreation in this country. Trust me that am the reason behind every birth! I came to know about the birth of a young baby girl who when she was born, her mother also died in childbirth and she was shunned and scorned by the family members. They were all upset, saddened and just didn’t want the additional burden of bringing up a baby girl who was going to be a burden, a strain on them and then the extra burden of dowry, marriage and so forth. So she was left there to die outside the house swaddled in her birth clothes. After the cremation of the mother, when two days had passed, someone remembered the infant baby girl and he or she decided to bury her too.

When they looked for her, and found her in her clothes outside in the verandah, she was still alive, as no one had cut her umbilical cord. She had survived and was alive. It was as if God had saved her and later a couple that didn’t have a daughter adopted her and now she has become a professor of English, imparting knowledge to many more. What a strange circle of life. We try to kill and nature has its unique way of saving its own.

In the recent years, we have started celebrating Lohri for the girl child and awareness is there, it is small, gradual but the festivities eclipse it for a boy child. No one asked to be born, no one chose his or her sex or the gender, who are we to discriminate so openly?

Why is the mindset not changing? You might say oh no things have changed; it’s not like this anymore, so how is the ratio so skewed still? Someone, somewhere here is still doing this. Is it like the One who must not be named?  I mean it’s all prevalent but we turn a blind eye, or a cold shoulder and look the other way.

A lot of initiatives are undertaken to save the girl child, to make her feel safe and secure. I just genuinely feel that we all need to collective come together and not do the drawing room armchair conversations.

In fact, procrastination is our middle name .We will mull, think, delay, discuss, decide, argue, fight and succumb to social pressures that are so engrained in our souls with invisible writing that we go back to our patriarchal roots.

Till we don’t set an example, make it safe for her, don’t give her equal rights and stop treating her a burden and have different set of rules and do’s and don’ts for her this rot is going to continue.

Collectively, lets stop the rot as now its seeped into the foundations of society and what we were known for once is I am afraid going to be lost in the pages of Lonely Planet.

India is synonymous for color, bonhomie, festivities, ancient civilization and the Vedas, yoga, we have given the world so much but we are reduced to this downward spiral and I haven’t even started with politics yet!

 However, it’s the start of a new month , sangrand is on the 14^th and I always have hope for a better ,newer day and may the fire burn bright in all of us.

Happy lohri.

Are we equal ?

I stumbled upon a Pakistani play; yes yes I am not supposed to watch them, as I am an Indian. And, we are in state of war with them since 1947 and will remain so till we obliterate each other. It’s a strange kind of love and hate relationship we have with them, we cant live with them, we cant live without them and we have the worst sporting rivalry with them. It so happens that one of my best friends lives across the border and we constantly whatsapp each other all day long being normal friends, the only difference being that we live two hours apart and cant meet each other as visas get denied. Pakistan and India are the two Punjabi rishtedaars who are fighting over a common piece of land, but so entwined with each other that they share everything .We welcome each other with open arms and literally spread the red carpet when they come to Punjab and vice versa. The bonhomie and the hospitality are unbelievable and you have to witness it to assimilate it.

The play is Ranjha Ranjha Kardi and in the opening episode has a scene where a lower caste girl is being taught how to read the prayers from the holy book Quran. So, the village women are upset as she is made to sit with their children and learn the right way .The teacher who is imparting the knowledge says the book is made for all and nowhere did the Prophet say that they couldn’t read it and by merely touching it; it wouldn’t become unclean. All our religion profess this, all the saints say this, that we are all one, impurity does not lie in the hands, it is not the work that makes one small or unclean. It is the mind that is impure and the thoughts that make us unclean. When are we going to get rid of these shackles? I am not saying we here in Punjab are better or superior, trust me we face the same problems. We all have bigger problems at hand and enumerating them is another story. When we start treating each other as humans and as one, not divide each other on caste, color, creed, sex, nationality we would truly inherit this earth. Imagine ,we need to make laws to allow people to be with each other, be it same sex marriages or inter caste marriages. On the rise are lynchings , tolerance is ending , suspicions are on the rise and we ridicule each other just on the basis of caste. The words of the play really resonate in my mind and I faced the same situation when some women in my village objected to my teaching children in the evening school ,they took their kids out and didn’t let them come back. The problem being that why were the lower caste children sitting with them/ I wonder ,where does it say on their faces that they are different ? Dividing each other on the basis of color which is just melanin and the caste that was all man made is so regressive .

We all breathe the same air , maybe I could start giving bubbles so that they can breathe the pure rarified air ! A pure race never led to any advancement , purity lies in the mind and that is the source of all .

Do you need another forward?

Does your life come with a manual? Do you know what’s going to happen to you? Do you want to break free? Do you want to dance the dance? No, I didn’t venture into a mediation retreat business, nor am I a counselor. I am just trying to follow the homilies that we read everyday, the bombardment of all the motivational, inspirational, positive, feel good quotes, my what Sapp, instagram feed is filled with all these feel good quotes ranging from Winnie the pooh to couplets, to lines by Buddha to simple yet deep lines that always tell me to be chin up.

I feel that with so much positivity hitting me everyday, I feel I should have a rainbow coming out of my backside and leprechaun’s gold! Its not that I don’t appreciate these pick me ups but pardon me I am tired of being told by these forwards, what about genuine, honest writing or picking up a phone to talk to each other. Why have we started being unkind to each other in real life but on the virtual world we are the portrait of kindness and magnamity! How come we don’t follow what we are preaching? These lines, the Sufi sayings, the Urdu couplets, the sayings by the great masters have been there before you and I and have been said, quoted since time immemorial. Its like we are hiding ourselves behind these emojis, these lines, our true selves the emoji is so dangerous; it could be a psychopath murderer or it could be a serial killer or just plain old constipated one!!

 I think my grouse is that we have started alienating ourselves and masking ourselves by sending these quotes thinking that is the answer to any problem. Today I was teaching the children as I had stumbled upon an old Aesop fable book and all the stories had morals (you guessed it, right!). The simple stories all were teaching the children who were oblivious of this virtual world that was plaguing us all  is that we should be wise enough to follow our heart . One that struck the chord of my heart was , a fool flatters himself , but a wise one flatters the fool. This is what we need to learn, to be wise and spate the chaff from the grain to succeed where it matters. No one is going to worry if your selfie game is strong, or how many likes you get , or whether you have the best body , these all are fleeting when one needs to remember the traits of yesteryears and embrace reality and kindness. Let the simple traits come forward that have been inculcated into the grain of our society that were the ethos , and give it an airing just the way I did to the books that I found today .

Maybe , if this article made a difference , I could give this a go rather than agriculture that isn’t paying at all . Potatoes aren’t making the cut in the vegetable market these days .

Are you fair , enough ?

My favorite time of the day is reading the newspapers and my cup of tea, it’s a holy ritual and happens every single day, but Sundays are my absolute special .I love reading the articles and soaking up information, however todays paper I happened to glance on the matrimonial columns. It made me feel worse than navigating the apni mandi and buying sabzi! There the northern sector hoity toity society matrons come wheeling their fancy trolleys /jholas on wheels wearing the trademark sketchers (sorry the Nikes are just not the ‘it’ shoes anymore) wearing the shabby kurta with a mismatched salwar that matches but is just slightly off, she also has the kohl rimmed eyes with her glasses perched on the head choosing the best that is displayed.

They haggle over the prices, they are happy when they save money over the carrots, zucchini and the bell peppers and the salad greens. It’s just akin to the columns that have left me flabbergasted. Honestly, to quote Captain Haddock, Blistering barnacles my dear Tintin. They just don’t want matches; they want the perfect matches with such specific ideas on height weight, skin, and color, education and subtle references to income .We divide ourselves on color, height, age, handsome, beautiful, extra pretty, light skinned, wheatish (a favorite with North Indians), sibling, no sibling, working with multinational and the exalted Indian Administrative Services and our fool proof doctor.

There is another variety the immigrant to USA, the guy with the PR to Canada, and the early marriage and flying back to greener pastures. Aren’t, we the ones who heralded the green revolution? And did I mention the fair engineer boys? I could go on and on, but how does one come to know about empathy, compassion, tolerance, to be kind and all the values that make us human. What about telling each other that we will be kind, we will be caring and adjusting and be partners in today’s world and not be guilty of dowry deaths, feticide, ugly divorces and assault. A lot of people tell me that women are guilty too and I should not be biased against men. But, how many men are rejected just because they are dark, or short, or couldn’t pay the dowry?

Exactly, my point dearies. We are in a society which is caste centric, is focused more on how much money one earns or bring .We don’t marry for each other, but we marry for the society and alliances are made for family names, what does it matter if they like each other or not or are compatible or not? It’s like when the aunties want the best ripest tomatoes and the unblemished, freshest vegetables to make the best curry.

This malaise of a marriage mart is all over India, we might divide each other by religion or by geographical divides but these defined, invisible parameters are so deep. And, then they talk about depression, what about the girls who are left behind just because they aren’t fair or beautiful. Who decides who is pretty? Then they need to compensate more with dowry.

This has led to a mushrooming of a billion dollar industry which sells dreams of making you younger , fairer, fitter, more appealing and having the best assets !

So, do the poor have a secret paper of their own or is the old practice of a matchmaker still existing? I know there are a few in Chandigarh who do match the upper rich class with compatible ones. However, the best was when one described a girl as being as fair as basmati rice! Imagine being a parmal (a variety of broken substantial rice) in today’s world or a weird looking aloo (potato).

Mr Fix it and the leaky cauldron

Every morning I churn milk in the old fashioned in an earthen pot (called a chatti, in chaste Punjabi) and get the now famous buttermilk. Buttermilk or lassi is synonymous with being a Punjabi and goes with the staple saag, makki di roti and parantha. However, the buttermilk has a modern new lease ,avatar and is sold over the world as the next best elixir for a healthier life style. So, one early morning at an ungodly time when even the rooster doesn’t crow I heard this sound of pitter-patter and I turned out to see it was the leaky cauldron where the lassi was pooling to the floor. I didn’t know what to do as it had sprung a leak so I put another utensil to collect the milk. That chapter got resolved for the mean time but when it was morning; I asked the general handy man that works on the farm to put some Mr. Fix-it and to well make the pot new.

He laughed and said this is the best jugaad to do. He said we use it for everything, for fixing leaks, walls, plumbing problems and so forth. And, it worked.

My earthen pot survives till today, but it’s like the attitude we all are plagued with. It’s a malaise we have for everything, the stopgap attitude to fix the problems that we face for now, and to let whatever happens afterwards as not being ones problem. I think from politics, to the weather to corruption, to the failing rupee, rising prices, me too, rapes, assault, rising depression, increasing insensitivity towards each other, and xenophobia, we all brush everything under the carpet.

Something, somewhere is done to fix the problem for ten percent, in fact the next-door neighbor infamously was called Mr. 10%, for taking a cut to fix any deal. The kickbacks are what we all are starting to suffer, increasing temperatures and a shrinking agricultural base and rising, spiraling prices. Do we ever think that these might affect us? No, because we only keep our own houses clean, only keep our affairs in order as all that is happening isn’t our problem. Whatever problem we face, or any obstacle that comes our way, we fix temporarily. It a never-ending vicious circle and we say chalta hai. Dreams, and aspirations have all been forgotten , buried and only the bright pixels of the virtual world that has become an extension of us , is blinding us . We all live oblivious of what is happening around us and have become shrouded to a single fixated gaze on our screens. Empathy, compassion , morals all compromised to being a things of the past . This attitude has become second nature and we live every day focusing on only that particular day , trying to get by .When I asked the ladies of the village why were they not giving meals to the school going children , they said its cheaper to give them Rs 5 for kurkure , rather than cook a meal or make vegetables. This change , jugaad is every where , the consequences be damned , because there is something else to fix it just like they made the Raavan this year by just using giant staples ! Why go into the headache to bind them with cord , I just know these festivals will be extinct soon , they would just have laser depictions and smoke free !

Some day , we will all have our lives just like the virtual reality glasses played in front of us, pre fed , stored by a mainframe computer in the vaults in a foreign land and I would be serving a capsule of buttermilk mixed with a capsule of water bubble and not be worried about leaky cauldrons.