My thoughts

Hmm…Quiet an event in one’s life. You sink into the feeling of being a mother when:

1. You hold the little one for the first time in your hands and wonder how tiny, beautiful and fragile it is and at the same time you are clueless of what to do next!

2. You realise that the word ’sleep’ is missing from the child’s dictionary. Sleep becomes a luxury for ages then on.

3. The bundle of joy is responding to you by smiling!

4. The feeling sinks deeper when the baby becomes a toddler! That is when the real fun and harassment starts!

5. Although still at your mercy the little human being is having his way by banging his head relentlessly against a wall to get his point across!

6. Your favorite cutlery items start lining up in front of the naughty eyes and you stand helplessly watching and cheering the little one in exploring ways to smash it!

7. Your wardrobe is now filled with ancient clothes and in some way you feel superior compared to the circus clown!

8 . Your not so-great-typing skills come to a halt when the ctrl button on your laptop is missing!

9. Your laptop suddenly refuses to function since most of the keys are jammed and are fighting against each other.

10. Your morning coffee, lunch and dinner become religious practices and are finished/gulped at a shot.

11. Attending nature calls can never be more interesting with a toddler sitting on your lap smiling at you while you ease yourself with great difficulty!

12. Your toilet soap is exhausted a month ago yet you manage using a closer version of a soap!

13. Waking up at 3.00 am in the morning just to find that the little brat acts as if this was the only slot available for playtime!

14. Your expensive dresses are no more than pieces of clothes to serve your baby’s stained lips and also to pour a can of juice!

1 5. Falling and tripping over in unexpected places makes you curse those sweet little toys you bought him. You admire the placement of the toy which outsmarts the ideas of strategic planners of the nation!

16. Your favourite mobile ringtone sounds like a frog’s croak, while your phone buttons refuse to perform the required task.

17. All things in different shapes and sizes including a computer mouse turn hastily into telephones!

18. Suddenly bugs/insects become the most beautiful creatures in the world and you will find yourself cheering alongside the little emperor, making creepy creatures to wriggle and move better!

19. You are pinned down by the little monster and you admire his guts for walking past you triumphantly with a fist full of your hair!

Finally….

You realise that, you mean the world to this little one and he is the apple of your eyes!

I don’t have anything to write!

I woke up from my afternoon siesta to the loud ringing of my cell phone. The ‘lady’ on the other side said without a pause “this is me (when translated to Kannada it simply means ‘ah naanu’). Please tell amma that I will come to Bangalore tomorrow by Chamundi express. Ok I will hang up now.”

Before I could realize who ‘me’ is and why should I inform my mother of her coming, she was set to cut the call. I was annoyed as I knew very well that it was one of those usual wrong numbers. Infuriated of cutting my nap short, I replied callously. I said “excuse me! I think you have dialed a wrong number. Please check before calling up!”  For which, she hung up without even a slightest hint of regret in her voice! 

The other day, a message, which was supposedly a birthday wish to be sent to someone’s sweet heart landed up on my phone! Trying to figure out who that was, proved costly! My reply to that message costed me Rs 10/- as I didn’t realize that it was an international phone number!  

Callousness and casual attitude has taken a toll on us. I realized that gone are the days when people would at least out of courtesy say ‘thank you’, excuse me’ or ‘sorry’ in a given situation. Irrespective of whether they really felt so didn’t matter since it would avert an impending argument. Today we end up with unwanted, harassing calls from bank executives and irritating wrong numbers without any regret of hurting or annoying the person on the other end! Impoliteness is not restricted to just phone calls as it has spilled over to one’s daily routine as well. Be it at a grocery store, a restaurant or cinema hall, petty fights are a common sight.  

Traffic snarls often end in abusive and irritating conversations from the wrong doers rather than a sweet sorry! A usual wait at a movie hall ticket counter, restaurant, shopping centres, and parking lots proves to be a platform for most of us to vent our anger in case of a heated argument. For all you know, most of them do it purposely in such unknown places since they would have failed miserably in venting out their emotions at home and work place! What is surprising is the level of patience, which has drastically decreased over the period of time. We now just wait for an opportunity to show our anger in spite of the problem being miniscule!  

Picture this: A bunch of youngsters walked into a posh restaurant and ordered food. While the guys were busy guzzling down beer, the girls were giggling for no reason. All they were trying to do was to make their presence felt in the otherwise peaceful ambience. In spite of constant stares and gawking eyes, the jeering and loud talk by them continued uninterrupted. While all this was happening, an infant woke up from its sleep startled and showed its annoyance by irrepressible cries. However, this didn’t prevent them from their merry making.

Unable to bear the agony, the father of the helpless child gave them his piece of mind. Nevertheless, their merriment continued in full swing after observing a two-minute silence!   All it takes is a little patience and composure to evade unhealthy circumstances. I think it is high time we brush up our basic etiquettes. 

Today, a headline of the newspaper’s ‘crime beat’ section screamed ”6 years old girl raped by a 27 years old man”. It is a pity to note that it has become a regular feature now. I am not writing about the pysche of the rapist nor am I going to narrate a similar incident. This reminded me of a story I did on child abuse during my stint with Vijay Times.

Four years ago, a renowned sexologist started a 24-hour helpline for the sexually abused children. It was the first of its kind in the city. My boss wanted me to meet the doctor and write a story. There I was, very  reluctant to do it as I was apprehensive of meeting a  sexologist.

I failed to convince my boss that I had genuine reasons for not accepting it. The reasons being, I was from an orthodox family. It would be difficult to confront my parents if they happen to spot me venturing into a sexologist’s clinic, while I wasn’t even married (not to say marraige would have helped)! However, I took up the assignment with much reluctance and fixed up an appointment.

The location of the clinic itself was strange and spooky, which was enough to shake my confidence. It was an isolated place and the ambience of the clinic echoed the same. A smiling female receptionist and dead silence of the surroundings welcomed me. I informed her of my appointment and was asked to wait for a while.

After a ten minute wait, a young man came out of the clinic with his head lowered (trying to hide his identity) and walked out hastily. It was apparent that he was one of the doctor’s patients. It was my turn to meet the doctor. I saw the receptionist smiling sheepishly, signaling me to go inside. How I wanted to scream at her that, “I am not here for treatment but to do a story”.

The doc welcomed me and offered me to take my seat. I had purposely kept the door ajar imagining that the doctor would anytime assault me! He promptly said, “please close the door”. I said, “It is okay. I do not mind it.” He sharply retaliated, ” But I do. I would like some privacy when I am talking to people”.

I was scared of his words. For some reason he looked like a sly fox and he did prove me right! I asked him about this new initiative of setting a 24 hours helpline for sexually abused children. He bragged and continued in pride that he gets 40-50 calls a day from abused children, which was far from the truth. I politely asked him, ” Are you sure of this fact. If so do you maintain a register for this?” Little did I realise that this question would prove costly!

He continued with pride, ” Of course I do. Let me show you my register.” There it was with various names and numbers scribbled all over the page. I couldn’t make out a thing and simply had to accept whatever he said. I continued my efforts to extract information, which I miserably failed.

After a point of time, his talk didn’t make sense because he failed to talk about sexually abused chidren. Before I realised, the topic had shifted to problems faced by adults! The children were left in their gloomy world. He started jabbering about how Indians are shy of sex and how we should be more open. He cited one or two examples of his patients and how these days unhealthy relationships exist between a brother and sister, father and a daughter, etc.

I had lost my cool by then. I found the conversation very irritating and irrelavant. I even subtly warned him of his deviation from the topic. There was no solace, his jabbering continued! I felt I have had enough when he opened the Kamasutra book in front of me! I hurriedly ended the topic, got up abruptly stating reasons of another appointment and headed the doorway.

Trying to hide from the suspicious eyes, I boarded a bus and headed to my office. Throughout my journey, I felt awful and guilty of taking up this assignment. I wrote the story minus the doctor’s inputs and the next day it was published without my byline on my request (to hide the fact from my parents). 

It did not take much time to realise that, what I experienced was one of the kind of sexual harrassments. I pity those little ones who tried to reach this doctor for advice. For all you know the little ones would have been updated on kamasutra techniques to combat harrassment. Kudos to him!

Recently while reading a popular Kannada magazine, I came across his name. No prizes for guessing! He is the ‘agony uncle’ for all those disheartened souls who have sexual problems!

It was one of those busy Monday afternoons. I and my friend (on a two wheeler) were stuck at a traffic junction. We stopped and waited for the signal to go green, which was a two minute wait. My friend (rider) turned towards me and started to chat. The signal turned red and she hurriedly started her bike and then bang! she hit a sleek car which was next to us!

We were scooting from the scene when the glasses of that car rolled down and a smart lady in the driver’s seat, turning towards us, showed her middle finger and swore angrily! We were stunned! Not because of the accident but at those words which flowed instantaneously from her mouth. We gathered our wits and instead of getting annoyed, we found ourselves laughing and giggling.

Interestingly we didn’t get into a brawl as we found it amusing and never once felt ashamed of the abuses. I wonder why we found it so amusing? If it were to be a man, wouldn’t we have thrown a tantrum?

When I pondered over my thoughts, I found two rational reasons for my doing. One being, “it was a woman afterall who said it” and “how did it harm us in any way by gesturing so?” Secondly, I was too happy and felt proud of her guts, which just masked the entire rudeness of her’s.

How many of us can do it? We (women folk) are not supposed to be harsh, boisterous and gutsy while in public. Afterall we are those gentle, elegant and timid cretaures (atleast in our middle class Indian society), who are not supposed to talk foul.

I am sure there would be hundreds of ladies who would have wanted to swear, use the four letter word to show angst or bash someone when they get into such ugly circumstances. But I guess something holds us back and that is our dignity. As a woman why can’t I show my anger the way men do?

Many a times these “lady like rules” are self proclaimed because a woman would feel threatened of losing her identity and respect if she behaves ‘irrationally’. I only seek answers to these questions as a human being. Afterall being a woman was not my choice!

“Women’s modesty generally increases with their beauty” -Friedrich Nietzsche

This reminds me of an unforgettable incident while I was a journalist. I had written about Lakshmi Chandrashekar, a renowned theatre personality and an English professor (she is also a popular televison artiste who has enacted in various Kannada teleserials like Maayamriga & many others) .   

As a response to this, a lady called up my newspaper office wanting to talk to me. It was the first time that somebody had asked for me. I was all smiles and beamed with pride. The lady on the other side was all in praise of me for this article. My happiness new no bounds. Afterall what else does a journalist expect but these comments from readers!

I continued to bask in this glory till I realised the purpose of this call! The lady was out with it. She, in her husky voice spoke ” you know it is very nice that you are focusing on succesful women. That is the spirit. I have a good suggestion for you. Can you interview me and do a similar story? I am a doctor and my achievements are no less compared to others.” She continued,” By the way, my husband is a leading dermatologist in Manipal hospital.” I then wondered how is that connected to her success? Maybe she thought that this was the way to get much needed two minutes of fame!

I was still holding the receiver thinking what to tell her. How boistrous can one be? I hated her guts to call up and ask for a favour! I tried pacifying her stating that “all those who were writen about have won accolades and are well known for their achievements. So…Iam sorry”.

But there she was, cutting me short and stating that she stood first in her medical exams and she had won a gold medal. But I wondered was this enough to write an article! I somehow convinced her that I would call her and would discuss about it.

I then raised this with my boss hoping to have a good laugh. To my surprise my boss said “please can you get that story. We are short of stories. I don’t mind even carrying something like this.” She (boss) sounded desperate! Alright! I called this modest lady and fixed an appointment for the same day since the story had to be in pritn the following day.

I went to her hospital and couldn’t ignore her good looks. Maybe, I thought, this beauty will have brains and will give me a nice story. She dissappointed me. All she could tell me was her academic interests and gold medals! She even gave copies of her certificates as if to prove that she was right. She also gave me her photographs which I never asked for. I admired of her talent to hog the limelight by hook or crook!

I went back to my office to key in the story, though not finding any words to describe it. It was uneventful. For once I realised that she was the one who was responsible for my ‘writers block’ mindset, which followed soon after. The story was ready with just 50 words in it and then was sent for editing. I handed over her pictures to the page designer.

Out of curiosity, I wanted to see her photos. I pulled out one of her photos from the brown envelope and her glamorous stature was no less than a leading bollywood actress. She was sitting pretty on a lush green lawn with heavy makeup and clad in a kanjeevaram saree! Her pallu was carefully adjusted on her hand, flowing down to the ground.

I exclaimed, and mumbled “you are a proud peacock, so contrary to your profession.”  Her beauty which, I was captivated of ,never seemed the same to me anymore. I read her article the next day, which did not carry my byline on my request. As if to make me sulk further, she called up to thank me!

How I miss those blissful journalistic days. Although my stint was for a short span, it immensly brought out a drastic change in me. I realised over a period of time that I could express my views and also convey people’s views effectively, which gave me immense satisfaction.

I came across several hilarious incidents, most of them appear funny now but were irritating then. One of those memorable ones was a meeting with an old gentleman who, at the age of 83 could recite Shakespearian sonnets with an impeccable british accent. 

On one of my routine beats to cover an event at Indian Institute of World Culture, I heard him reciting those sonnets with utmost ease! I was spell bound considering his age and also not once did he refer the book. Instantly I made up my mind to interview him and even fixed up an appointment.

The next day I was at his doorstep sharp at 9.00 a.m. I could see that the house was in clutter with piles of clothes strewn around. I couldn’t help feeling guilty since it was that hour of the day when everyone is busy to head to work. The lady of the house, his daughter-in-law, was running around to get her chores done.

Ahem…I took my seat and started shooting questions at him, to which I got prompt and also satisfactory answers (not always do people speak their mind). I was happy and content with my job and made a bid to leave. But he insisted on having a cup of tea. It didn’t take me much to realise that he was from northern part of Karnataka and I gleefully admitted that my ancestors belong to the same land. I have alsways been enthusiaistic when I meet people from “our area” (which in Kannanda simply means “namma kade avaru”).

Little did I realise this would prove to be embarrasing.  This gentleman also shared a similar expression when he traced out my background. Immediatley he called his grandson, who apparently was in a hurry  to get to work. He gave a quick introduction of his grandson. He said, ” meet my grand son xxxxxx. He is a lawyer. He completed his law from National Law School. Now he is working for an MNC and earning in lakhs.” 

I gave a couteous smile and we exchanged a few words. Then came the punch line! This gentleman continued ”we are searching a bride for him”. I couldn’t say anything further and nodded my head obediently. He continued much to our embarrassment and enquired about my details. I and his grandson were awed and couldn’t digest what he said. I suddenly felt as if I was sitting there like a prospective bride making every bid to hide my nervousness!  

I was praying for an excuse. The much awaited tea came to my rescue and so did a phone call from my collegue. I gulped the tea down my throat and made an excuse to leave. Sigh! I was out of his house and swore not to speak of my antecedents ever again.

Iam sure my friend who after reading this will exclaim and ask me in his usual mocking tone “Poo…what’s with you and old men? You always write about old men and trees!”. Well Anand, all I can say is I basked in the glory of getting immense attention from them, of course in the right sense.

Watch out for more hilarious incidents in this space. The best is yet to come!    

I have a penchant for good fountain pens since my schooldays. Although my collection is not admirable yet I have maintained them till date with utmost care. This liking was inherited from my father, who also shares the same interest. It was also because of one of my teachers who kept nailing the thought in my head that “your handwriting will continue to be neat if you use fountain pens”. Not pondering on why and how I continue to use them with pride. 

I happened to pick this new pen from my collection today. This is one of my prized possessions since it is a Sheaffer with a tag “made in U S A”.  I remember exactly how it came into my possession. It was love at first sight! I saw the pen neatly tucked in my father’s friend’s shirt pocket. It had a lustrous shine which caught my sight immediately. Incidentally my father’s friend (a very good friend) is also an admirer of fountain pens!  I exclaimed like a small child “uncle what pen is that”? He promptly took it out and gave it to me without a word. After I went through all the finer details, I handed it over to him thinking that one day I will buy a similar one.  

As if reading my mind, he said I could keep it. I was joyous but like a well behaved girl promptly denied it. I still remember his words when he said “don’t you like it? If you do then why don’t you keep it?” (For my convenience I will use Kananda to write what he said.) He continued “Nee kelodu heccha naa kododu heccha?”    

Why do I remember these words today after almost 15 years? It is sad to note that this person is battling for life because of brain tumor. Last month he lost his father and now he is anxiously waiting for his death which could be in a few months or if he is lucky, it could be in a few years.

It is remorseful to imagine a dying person patiently waiting for his death which he knows can be any time.  I greatly admire him of his strength to conceal his illness and continue to talk to me in the same tone as he did to his child. His friend (my father) also conceals his sorrow of losing him soon. I wonder why do they hide their emotions. Maybe because they are men and must not show it. However, it is hard to imagine myself losing my close friends. I will treasure this prized possession forever, which will always remind me of him!   

Lots have been said about government officials and their style of work. However I would like to share a small incident which happened a year ago when I was working for an NGO. Since my project was based on livestock and environment, I had to interact with a lot of people to procure information and document it. Much against my desire I had to interact with the animal husbandry department as well.

To keep me company, I decided to take my colleague along with me. After a lot of running around we could finally locate the department. The officer in charge was all set to meet us since we had a prior appointment. He was enthusiastic and beaming with smiles. Later I discovered the reason behind these smiles and it was because not many would come and meet somebody in animal husbandry department since it is not the ‘happening’ department!

After we settled down in the small dusty room, the officer called up someone and gave instructions and lo! There they were a bunch of people to meet us! It looked like they were all the chief officer’s subordinates since they were being very watchful of their behaviour and were cautious while they talked. They all sat and signaled at us who seemed like” please shoot your questions, we are all ready”.

I carefully started asking them questions in order to extract the vital information. The conversation went on smoothly. I requested them for information on small ruminants (sheep and goats) and immediately a young man amongst them said “yes madam ella informationu ide. You should go to Kuri sadana.” Apparently  Kuri sadana is a separate department for small ruminants, especially for sheep. Then I asked them in Kannada ” Alli yaar iddare sir meet madakke” (”So who is there whom I can meet”)? By which I meant the person in charge of that department. To my dismay the young man answered “hmm…. people”! As if I wanted to meet kurigalu (sheep) in Kuri sadana!

My colleague was giggling by then but I was irritated. I composed myself and reframed the question hoping to get the right answer. However it did not give me any solace and I left it at that. Suddenly as if a lightening struck, the officer said “I will give you a website number“. Turning to his colleague he said “Yenappa get that number. The one given by saar“. 

I was thanking my stars that I finally hit upon the jackpot but I was confused when he said website number.The much awaited website number arrived. On a small piece paper a url of their official website was written, not once but twice! So this was the website number! I couldn’t conceal my laughter. The officer, much to our amusement looked at the piece of paper and said “What is this? This number is too long! How will medam remember? This looks like railways tracks to me. Why do these higher authorities come out with such long numbers”?

Yes that was it! I and my colleague wanted to hide somewhere and have a good laugh. We got a chance only when we were securely out of the building. I can never forget this incident but I do wonder why are these officials so ill informed? I am not sure if it is their ignorance or arrogance which makes them behave like clowns! 

I have often wondered how much should a human being emphasise his rights on nature? Does occupying the prime starta of environement bestow him of all the rights to manipulate and use it for his benefits? Today we are waging wars over water, a natural resource, and debating over culling of dogs and cows.

Classification of what is ethical and unethical is purely a self proclaimation by the human society. Imagine if culling was to be applied to human beings, it would actually restore the harmony in nature. Sounds harsh since we cannot bring ourselves to sacrifice to mother nature. So the easiest way is to target the lesser mortals and also proclaim in pride “survival of the fittest”.

I read this news item today which talked about an interesting innnovation by German scientists to reduce methane in the environment. Methane produced by cows contribute to 4% of methane emissions in the air. Some scientists have developed a pill which when induced in the cow reduces methane emissions. The fist-sized plant-based pill, known as a bolus, combined with a special diet and strict feeding times, is meant to reduce the methane produced by cows.

Further these scientists also claim that this pill is a wonder since it can also increase milk yielding capacity in the cow. Now the poor cow must not only stop burping but also produce more milk just for these selfish human beings!

The million dollar question being what happens to the rest of the contributors (96%)? I do agree that contribution from human beings is less compared to this but doesn’t it still have a role? No one from the itellectual lot will discover a pill to stop us from burping beacuse we have the right to live the way we want.

It is time to think over a sustainable solution which looks at broader aspects than targeting the meek and helpless.