The Town And Country Mouse

 Wedding scene is officially coming to a close and I was attending one of the classiest Page 3 weddings and all I could think was a story that I used to shrug off as a younger kid - The Town Mouse and The Country Mouse . The ambience , the feel and the wedding were al beautiful and everything was done with the highest level of sophistication and extravagance and no expense was spared with the decor , food and flowers and the band and the spillage of jewels of the women , trust me we could have cleared the debts of Punjab and the eighbouring states with loose change to spare and education wouldn’t have suffered just like its happening at one of our esteemed universities but that rant and sadness is for another day on another page.

Of course every Punjabi fat wedding is not complete without alcohol and drinking away to oblivion , its like the coffers are opened and the cave of Ali Baba is open . So along the festivities , and hobnobbing and socialising with everyone and talking politely and then talking about them when we all moved to the next set of people , slowly and slowly I realised that everyone was getting drunk ! Vodka was the flavour of the evening and the behaviour changed, they all became more and more relaxed and friendly and bubbly and the inhibitions were gone . Some who otherwise would not say anything , had an opinion about everything or were so vocal , and some were looking for food to assuage the light headiness.

The pallu of the saree kept on slipping and more was on display than how they had come .

I am not a prude nor do I have anything against drinking , drink , don’t drink , your wish ; provided you can hold your liquor . The intoxication and the ready availability, the abundance ,and the wish to be more sophisticated , modern , western , hep any of the adjectives has made the women a confused lot .

Maybe , this is the  Biji in me talking  . A lot will attack me that it’s their right , feminism, equality and why can’t they drink and will feel that I am being harsh . Im not being harsh Im wondering how we have changed from loosing ourselves in this rat race to prove we are modern. A country mouse like me who lives in a village and far from the town lights gets bedazzled with this change in ethics or the lifestyle . the bright lights are so seductive ,and entrap me in their lure and its a siren call but remember the siren call was given to lure the fishermen to kill them by the mermaids aka Pirates of Caribbean . I want these women to be modern and outgoing in their outlook and making a change in the pulse of Punjab, there is so much potential in them . All of them are educated , smart , wise and can make such a positive impact if they just changed a bit . They have money ,power at their disposal and also the freedom to do this . The key which I think divides us from advanced countries is freedom to implement and to translate and to take charge and be impactful to change it for the next generation ( that does include their kids and grandkid’s ) . A temporary fix doesn’t remove the harshness of life and at best would make the town mouse happy in his /her environment , but can you remain cocooned forever? 

Make a change and remove the moniker of town / country forever.

Do remember that as a state we are going through our darkest periods of drug abuse , alcoholism and the downfall of the society . We cant remain excluded while Rome burns . 

The power of numbers

 The Power of Numbers 

Maths is such an enigma , and more so for my underprivileged kids who have no access to fancy learning tools , or computers . We learn the old fashioned way , a blackboard , and some chalk and shouting out the multiplication at the top of our voices . This is the way I learnt them , when I was in school . It’s so interesting when we say our tables , we start moving in a rhythm intrinsic to time , a slow rocking motion that comforts and aid at the same time . Tall claims have been made by the present government to amp the levels of education and our esteemed chief minister is even sending 35 principals to Singapore for furthering their expertise . 

The basic levels of education are so lost in the system that the children are confused and here we wonder why there is no progress in the government school and the education . 

I was doing basic questions today and also revising geography with them , where I was clueless because the words of separable and inseparable were in Punjabi and I could not even understand , hence needed Google translate . This is what the truth is . The basic questions were just to get them comfortable and confident in speaking up because they are timid and don’t open up , they are shy , they are intimidated at first and it takes them a little while to be at ease.

So one of the questions after asking about names , and how old they are , and what is their favourite serial ,and what is their favourite number ? A bunch of them answered 295 and majority said 786. I asked in all innocence ( role reversal ) , what is 295 , and they shouted Sidhu Moosewala ,the rest said because 786was Babaya da number . 

They all said the number is lucky and it was important . You cannot imagine the blind faith they have on this number . 786, is written on the note books , its written on the billboards of the shops , and they pay respect to the Pir sahib and giv emustard oil too . Punjab is dotted by these shrines /graves , green in color with a Chadar on top and a flag fluttering and 786 painted everywhere on the walls . This from a majority of children who are Punjabi by birth to Bihari immigrant labourers who have shifted to Punjab , worshipping forms of Krishnaji ..

Why and who says there is danger to Hinduatava , or there is segregation in Sikhs and Hindus or Muslims ? A handful of few politicians charge up emotions to whip up the public against each other on basis of religion to polarise and win elections .

 My kids , innocent , eager ,who love langar and prasad, believe in the magic of the lucky number of 786  ( Allah ) and swear by 295 ( legend of Moosewala ) but are Hindus , have all the national integration we search for and swear by but get divided by 552 . 

Ps ( that is the number of Lok sabha members of parliament) 

Gyaan da Sagar

 Every morning we wake up and face the day and try to make meaning of our living and its mingled and sprinkled with motivational quotes and lines and pep up talks and conversations with besties and virtual messaging ( that is true for me ) and trying to face life and real life situations . How many of you do this, and try to deal with negativity and situations or problems? 

The problem lies not with others but with ourselves as we have given the key of our happiness to what others say or do , when we have made them live in our homes and they kick us out leaving us homeless . Many a times , we give so much importance and leverage to people around us that we think we can sexist only when they do or we can only breathe when they do , its this elevation that leads to all the problem . There is a thin line between giving them superficial importance based upon being scared and being afraid of them and giving them due respect . Respect is what is taught to us , ingrained in us when we are growing up based up on traditions , values that are instilled in us ,and  not the importance that we give just because we are sucking up to them because of hierarchy and the position on the social ladder . Indians are a confused lot , we have embraced the modernity of the west but we cling to the archaic traditions as  Mithril . It would have been better if we all were Frodo Baggins . Right now we all are lost in a James Clear , Charles Bulowski to Sant Maskeen to Sant Ram Das lines , why have all got so used to taking refuge in these lines, quotes ? 

Have we forgotten to think and be ourselves that we need to be reminded of basic kindness , empathy  and compassion ? In a world where are we are now told to distribute and share and then to highlight our deed , whereas all our religions have told us to share and take out 1/10th of our income and given to the poor . Why do we need to be reminded with signs that if they are trending in Instagram then only we will do? I am surprised that everything is done and shared and tweeted to leave a social virtual impact ,to further the likes , a Yatra taken only to garner sympathy and a wave of love and change , that is hollow in a lot of respects ! When did you ask the common man whether he hates the Sikh or the Muslim ? Why are we being told that Hinduism is under threat ? Trust me , living in a small village there is nothing like this  , all we worry is about ground frost , drugs , and whether sun comes out tomorrow! 

A world that is narrowed and is grey by virtuosity we need to see the real world , step out from the heated comfort of your home , step into the cold ! Remind yourself , that we need to learn . Imbibe from the well written emotionally wringing quotes and lines that are meant to impact and not be an excuse always . Like the lines I read yesterday , all the lines written by me are about God , not your ex. Rumi 

Yesterday , our cook who has more seniority than I do , he’s been with us since before I came into the scene , remarked wisely like  Master Shifu , that when we are alive , no one gives us a drop of ghee but when we die they pour ghee on us , drenching us when we are dead…. 

It is true we honor the dead more than the living , change yourself , and it comes not when we read the lines or share them to seem wise but when we actually believe in them .

Peeve #1

 This is a beginning of the year post , and I’m a year away to my fifty ! You know with age and the grey hair that I have in abundance I’ve got so many peeves . Life is all about social media and being connected to each other , but I wonder what is everyone doing with the free time that they have because of all the vowels they miss and writing in abbreviations and just missing out all the grammar . In my times ,we had a compulsory dictionary , Oxford and a red Wren and Martin that was the holy grail for all of us .

We had to use it , use it for reference and were mocked if we don’t know are P’s and Q’s , or didn’t use a colon or a semi colon or an apostrophe . Everything is in hands of Google Aunty or correction is done via auto correct or an app corrector that you’ve downloaded . Sometimes it makes it difficult for me to even understand the Pinglish used or the hinglish . Isn’t it a reflection of what our minds have become ? We have become so confused and as we think, we speak and we type , everything is corrupted .

Another interesting thing that happened with me , yesterday , it was mentioned that I have an Instagram account ; and the young man who runs a boho -chic cafe couldn’t believe his ears . It was strange for him that an aunty , an old woman would have one! The music playing in the cafe was even older than I am and that was meant to be fashionable and trendy ! How we quickly relegate to being old and ancient? Am i supposed to sit down on a sofa , vegetate and listen to what? How unforgiving the youth is? We were kinder to our peers . We were taught better , I don’t know how its been lost in translation and have we  in a hurry forgotten everything , its a state of frenzy to be liked to be adulated and to be forever in the limelight .

It’s as if we are worried and stressed that we would be extinct if we didn’t leave a virtual trace . During my classes with the unprivileged children , I stress the discipline of writing complete words and proper letters hoping I leave a stamp on them but it’s a losing battle as the seductive appeal is far stronger than writing correctly . 

Life of a woman !1

 It’s the best time of the year , we have our own spring uprising , winter is still lingering and its clutches still hold sway just like Games of thrones. It’s as if we all are Westerosi . But , coming back to Punjab and the small village I live in , I had gone to attend one of the giant steps taken by our village panchayat . They had decided to attend for the first time to celebrate women’s day , progress in the hands of the change in vanguard of politics and everyone started to talk.

Women love to talk , we love to engage and exchange ideas and sometimes just take tips to make lives better for ourselves . Everyone started to reminisce about the times of bygone and one aunty who was an ex army officers wife started speaking about her times . As always she wanted to put across how modern she was and ahead of her times. 

It’s always been the case in Punjab , that people who joine the army were a tad bit more sophisticated and had more style , etiquette’s and panache than the rest of the plebeian folks. It had to do with the travelling and having an exposure and learning how the rest of the country lived. Auntyji , in her hey days wore sarees and that was unheard of girls from villages who came from patriarchal Jat Sikh , conservative and traditional families who traveled from point A to point b with no exposure . So , she was a newly wed in the early 60’s and wore sarees and was asked lovingly by her officer husband to wear a sleeveless blouse. 

The city of posting was Lucknow; the city of Nawabs, romance and shayarani and old world charm and grandeur . So , this small village girl to please her husband wore a saree and a sleeveless blouse to show off her lovely arms and her bangles . She went for a party and was coming back , when the Sahibji was informed the Biji has come from Punjab to live with them. And, lo all Chaos happened and she knew she was going to get a tongue lashing and a dressing down . Her husband told her to cover her arms with the French chiffon saree , but that didn’t help!

When she entered n front of her dragon of a mother in law , she was told in the highest form of sarcastic , rustic wit , that the tailor has made invisible sleeves. 

Life has changed from girls wearing sarees but keeping them selves covered and still being attractive and sensual . Now the idea is to bare all , twerk , post suggestive pictures and if you’re not showing some skin you’re not modern enough . 

Is display of flesh a sign of modernity and a benchmark of being novel , and being in vogue. Modernism means embracing the quality of present or recen times by being forward thinking . To change ones mindset, and not be regressive and be of present times. We as a country have repressed and regressed and freedom of our expression of women is being curtailed . It is frowned upon when women wear revealing clothes or western clothes as they can incite and inspire sexual feelings in men . Why the false promises of empowerment, when we have to fight even for representation in the largest democracy of the world? It’s unfolding in two months and lets see what happens. Women in our country remain seen but are unheard , an uprising is needed but then is rudely called as being feminist bra burners. It’s not that , we just want to be treated as a human . And, then a saree wearing , hijab covered , or a sleeveless shirt with shorts is free to do what she wants and the rest don’t have to stare or gawk at her.For me , I still wait for ache din , or maybe I can see from above up there in the heaven or hell depending where my friends are.

This is an old piece and In ever posted it or it just got lost as sometimes my thoughts go . After the uprising by Taliban’s and the over throw and the recent strike on freedom in Iran and the continuous killings , molestation , rapes and just non stop degradation that carries on . 

My maid had the best answer , she says newspapers are printed so we gareeb can wrap our roti in it , Baaki Sab Bikka huya hai ( everything else is sold ) . It’s true isn’t it?

Mother of All weddings

 The wedding season literally upon us , all the Chanda , Tara’s are smiling ,winking and all the auspicious dates have been lined up and I have the mother of all seasons , where from next week onwards I’m booked till post Christmas . It is just what they call it as a big fat Punjabi wedding scenario. The bigger , the better, the blinker , the shinier and the glitzier is better. Every season , we try to reinvent ourselves with bigger jewels, bling outfits , and more pictures to make memories for the instant likes knowing very well that more people will view the story than liking the post ! It’s just how we are , the voyeur in us is all out every season . 

From the invites, to snagging the best wedding invites , to the favours to the mithai to the clothes to booking the best make up artist , to the hair stylist , its a competition and blood has been shed to book them! Every season one designer becomes the favourite, and everyone makes a beeline for her or him to wear the it suit and the colours because how can one woman be ahead than the other . 

The colours are brighter than the rainbow or paler than water depending upon what is deemed as the trending colour  and men are flashy and coordinate with their turbans depending whether they are from Majha ,Malwa or Doaba ; distinct colours dominate ! They also sometimes seem stuffed in their suits , do men have corsets too? 

The problem comes for people like me who are misfits ,old and have neither a designer suit in ones name and nor is the hair golden grey . I think  Punjab has more golden hair than the Aryans of Germany . The designer bag to the designer clothes , to the shoes to the ordinary jutti all have become synonymous with style , elan and everything is tagged to have maximum exposure. Heaven forbid , you wear the same suit again its akin to committing social harakiri. 

Every wedding picture is uploaded only with a particular hashtag and that has to be unique and quirky . The ordinary and simple have no meaning anymore . Make up is to another level , one doesn’t simply get ready , one has a stylist and some one who will change the skin color and contour and highlight and sharpen or conceal any spot that might come because you might just like sitting in the sun like me or have age spots .

The cosmetics industry and the skin specialists have more arsenal ready than both the  Korean countries and can  and make you something else , you just have to shell out money ! Money makes the mare go . 

And , oh how can I forget , in the midst to get the perfect picture , there are so many takes , that one misses the actual events because the photographer is more strict and he keeps on  saying look here , please smile ! And I fail hopelessly at all this , I smile and take pictures for happiness and memory and not for the perfect angle or pose! One is supposed to thrust your pelvis at an angle , tip toe like a ballet dancer ( and we are Punjabis with hips that don’t lie ) and to angle and jut out . Growing up no one taught me that this was my right side or wrong side , I was just grateful to see as I am half blind! 

And you have to have the designer glasses to stare at people behind the dark lens and also sport a deadpan expression , have you ever seen a happy smiling picture ? Nope , just that expression akin to Morticia. All these are the rules of the Punjabi wedding ,where you arrive fashionably late , have a drink one hand , sample the wares and gossip about others , and make notes in one’s mind castle , and give the Shagun envelope where they keep on saying no but they will take it in the end.

It’s a saga with cuisines of all the world , all the wine and the liquor you can drink , with the cheese grazing table and all I crave is a good coffee amidst everyone talking about the new vegan diet ! The circus continues and we all take part in it wanting freedom but chained to the yoke .

The Speil Spell

 The spiel they sell us from ache din to badlaav aa gaya , to saving the girl child to giving the girl child an education. Teach a girl , you teach a family . I love how they write these deluded slogans and one liners to influence and to make sure we vote for the party so governments can be formed and public can be swayed . Every five years we get to choose our leaders who we think are going to deliver just like Moses and the Red Sea would part for us.  We just celebrated daughters day , I even talked about it , motivating every one but today I faced a peculiar problem . A young girl against all odds from a small village in Punjab ( Doaba) region finished her graduation in computer application . Her story is sad , tragic but she never gave up hope and against all odds her grandfather supported her and she finished her studies. To sustain herself financially she started teaching in the village school and now keep calm , and hold your horses, she gets paid Rs 500 each from two teachers every month and that further inspires her to start a business because she wants to make money .

From abject poverty , a desire to good and to be successful her competitive spirit is born , I don’t even know what to say . the system promises us everything , promises a silver lining , promises utopia and jobs . Where are the jobs ? Where is the change we are looking for ? Have we all gone myopic, that we don’t know reality?  I asked for help and a lot of the readers on a public page said that she should emigrate as there is no hope here . Some said she should join a multi national company or some-said that there were data entry operator jobs , or to join the sewa Kendra and she could make money .

Ive figured out what ails us , we are so far removed from reality in our Instagram , social media induced virtual life that we have forgotten that more than 60 recent of India”s population is rural and they do not have the knowledge, access to English , nor do they have any confidence to apply and compete with the rest . They are shy, insecure and not sure how to conduct themselves. They’re best bet is marriage. Ache din is that she as studied and has a degree that has no future now , and she would best be earning as much as a field labourer does.But , what has complicated matters is that now she has confidence and a little ego where she thinks she should earn more but she doesn’t and frustration sets in . 

How do they break the circle? In a time , where inflation is at its highest , jobs are scarce and the badlaav is limited to showcasing new and newer suits of the Cm’s wife and having a bigger entourage than the previous chief ministers . Why did the voters of Punjab be duped on a piped pipers tune of change ? Either way Rome is burning and the emperor is fiddling away a tune that isn’t new . 

My young girl will end up marrying and will bury her dreams and will end up doing business by haggling with the vegetable seller over the prices to , resurrect only when she has children of her own . This all seems far fetched , exaggerated but its not it’s how Jamtara and all others come to birth !  Despair , hunger and a desire to be better in a system that has abandoned them has given birth to the drugs epidemic . We need to save Punjab , not by mere words but by a responsible, collective and individual action .