Reservations

 Mention of the word 'Reservation', is akin to showing a red flag to a bull, before you can complete your sentence that it was train reservation that you were referring to and not reservations for the supposedly downtrodden and oppressed, the youngsters will be up in arms. We have reservations  about the concept of reservation itself notwithstanding. Have you ever wondered, why are the train seats and berths reserved while flight tickets are booked or restaurant tables reserved!! You may attribute it to the Quirks of the Queen's language! 

While I have been singularly fortunate having joined the Armed Forces, where no such reservations are prevalent, our generation had its first major encounter in1989, when the word reservation became a part of the lexicon for the youth, when Mandal and Kamandal were pitched against each other. Kamandal signifying the Ram Janmabhoomi movement and Mandal named after Mandal Commission which had recommended 27% additional reservation for the OBCs (Other Backward Castes). While we were aware of reservations in Govt jobs and professional institutions for Scheduled Castes/Scheduled Tribes, it was limited to 10%. A sudden jump of 27% percent shook the students out of their stupor and they reacted by playing with fire, literally immolating themselves against the implementation of this ill advised policy amendment by the then PM Mr VP Singh. Without going into the gory details of the tragic consequences of that agitation, suffice to say, the students ended up losing not just their seats in academic institutions but also subsequent prospects of decent Govt employment opportunities as well. 

When Reservation was conceived by the architects of the Constitution it was supposed to be for a period of ten years as a temporary measure. How it came to be perpetuated ad infinitum is the story of blatant opportunism across party lines. 

Anyway, to return to the present day situation where my daughter is an affected party courtesy the latest Medical PG Entrance reservation policy of allocating 65% seats to various reserved categories and leaving just 35% for the General category. The irony of the situation dawned on us when discovering her plight despite such a good score in the Entrance test, our chef commented wryly, “Aap General category hain na!!”(Unfortunately you belong to the General category). Reverse discrimination was as blatant as it could be. A couple of years back, my friend’s nephew was going steady with a girl, her classmate in a professional institute. When the boy’s parents approached the girl’s parents for marriage, they were refused point blank because the girl belonged to a reserved category and they did not want their progeny to lose the privileges granted due to the reservations available in all walks of life in India.

Where does this leave the General category middle class student, he is suddenly made aware that he is underprivileged because he/she belongs to a supposed Upper caste, whose ancestors more than a century ago suppressed the so called people whose progeny today enjoy this privileged and exalted status. The irony is city dwellers were probably not even aware that the caste conundrum had such ramifications. Situation in the rural areas though is different, there are a number of incidents where the Upper castes are reported to have carried out atrocities on the downtrodden, but even there it is the rich Upper caste and not their poorer kith and kin as they are subjected to similar humiliation due to their penury. 

The Fourth Estate has played a very negative role in perpetuating casteism by dutifully highlighting only one side thereby vilifying entire communities. During elections, our national jamboree and favourite pastime this is taken to ridiculous levels, where only caste calculations are highlighted right from the selection of candidates to demography of the constituencies. I wonder why such blatant caste based analysis and reporting is permitted. The liberals would argue that by merely ignoring and not reporting this phenomena is not going to disappear, yes but having overdone it for almost seven decades since independence we are nowhere near getting rid of this monster either. Isn’t it time we change tracks, look for other alternatives or shall we continue in this same state, thereby further increasing the chasm into an unbridgeable social divide. 

Toxicity

"Toxicity" was a 2001 chartbuster from the band "System of a Down", while it is supposed to have focused on the other forms of toxicity prevalent in the society then, drugs, religion, corruption and so on. Today the additional form of toxicity which is way more pernicious and has effected all and sundry is the 'social media' variant. Sometimes I think it ought to be labelled Anti social media, because that is precisely what this medium of communication has turned out to be. A true Frankenstein, it has transformed perfectly sane and sensible people into 'Digital Devils'  who drive perverse pleasure in spreading all kinds of falsehood without batting an eyelid or considering the consequences of their irresponsible acts. The phone has become smart but it has turned its owners into dumb fools.  On line Trolling has assumed gigantic proportions, since the phone is ubiquitous, the access to this medium to hurl invectives in an anonymous manner has given such a tool to the goons that they have simply gone berserk. Everything is fair game here, there are no holy cows; in a strange way it has democratised trolling! 

While people in public life, celebrities learn to live with the constant glare and scrutiny, probably they even relish it, but of late the levels  of abusive language has reached its nadir. Amazingly, the media platforms seem to be encouraging these activities rather than curbing them in the name of a misplaced perception of freedom of expression. This freedom comes at a huge cost, that of human decency, common sense and sensibilities. These days religion has come to the fore I am appalled  at the what's app posts which I often encounter in many of the groups that I have been part of. Shockingly these friends of ours have been our best buddies through thick and thin;  but even they have undergone a change. I am not sure any longer whether these views have emerged now from some deep recess of their hearts where this hatred lay buried or it is this constant social media barrage which has made them review their own beliefs. Unfortunately there is a huge distrust between the two sides, and one must belong to either of them, else you are branded as the 'other'. Sane voices who could accept genuine criticism have suddenly become extinct.

The latest 'hatemongers' have unleashed "Bulli Bai" supposedly an app developed for auctioning Muslim women on GitHub, a provider for internet hosting owned by Microsoft. While the culprits have been arrested, the app has been taken down, the malaise is much deeper and needs serious introspection by everyone. We knew propaganda is a powerful tool, Joseph Goebbles proved it in Nazi Germany, it indoctrinated millions into believing in Aryan supremacy. We have also witnessed the rise of fanaticism in the name of Islam being in danger and Jihad. India mercifully was spared although one can't deny the existence of fringe elements. Then why is the largely peaceful democratic society of ours turning vicious and itching for a civil war. Some would blame the present dispensation for the ills facing the society, others would find fault with the opposition, some others would lay the blame squarely on the fanatic religious leaders, to an extent all these reasons have contributed to the mess. 

The digital Czars Microsoft, Google etc too have assumed larger than life proportions and in their greed for profits have forsaken common sense and decency in their business models, else how can you explain apps such Bulli Bai being approved for hosting or even tool kits for spreading discontent in any society. They have been raking in the moolah with no responsibilities whatsoever on the consequences. They need to be reigned in, I know this may be anathema to the liberals but liberty is only possible when accompanied by responsibility, else measures need to be instituted to correct that.Print and electronic media too need to take a lesson in objectivity rather than the highly partisan reporting which they have been indulging in over the last couple of years.

Each one of us is responsible for his own beliefs and behaviour, collectively these should contribute to the cause of society and nation building and if that is not the case we need to look within! 

Creamy Layer

When winter comes can chapped dry and flakey skins be far behind? The red chubby cheeks would turn dry and rough, anathema for most caring mothers. Most kids dreaded the evening bed time ritual when mothers would tiptoe quietly and apply glycerine on their faces. Glycerine made our faces sticky and this evening Holi ritual reminded us of the applying of colour on the faces with the usual one liner, "Bura na mano Holi hai!"( Don't take it otherwise, it's Holi, the festival of colours). For most mothers it was their duty to keep their children's faces smooth and all possible methods were adopted, first some incentives then threats and finally just deceit engage the kids in harmless banter or even bedtime stories and then in a flash, the hands would do the trick with kids left smarting and literally licking their wounds or should I say lips, glycerine was sweet to taste!  The other variants  could be moisturisers, creams, malai(fresh cream) so on and so forth. Kids being kids couldn't care less, red chapped cheeks, the skin on the hands and feet too joining the league of culprits ....... Naturally we were adept in going to the ground, playing all those games where the contact with mother Earth was a prerequisite, which only hastened up the process. 

Uncle winters was not a welcome guest in most households, as we were forced to put on sweaters, pullovers, monkey caps and layers and layers of clothes were thrust on most of us; worst part was that the days were short. Evening games time had to be compromised and that meant more time for homework and study period, not a healthy prospect by any standard. Similarly morning hours were equally dreadful, having to part with the warm and cozy quilts to get dressed for the school. Mothers would lovingly nudge us but it was the Dad's booming voice which spurred us into action and served as the much needed marching orders.

Army is a great organisation, it takes care of each and every need of its personnel, whether it is uniform, weapons or even personal requirements such as vaseline for the winters. Each one of us was issued petroleum jelly to be applied liberally on our faces and lips in mountainous regions. Frankly the issue type vaseline was the best moisturiser against the vagaries of winter chilly winds. These days of course there is a huge market for the cosmetics associated with winter needs for soft and silky skin of the fairer ones. I often wonder why don’t they simply use pure and simple gold standard vaseline, if that were to happen the cosmetic industry would go bankrupt and may even try and malign vaseline as a product.

Old timers and the rural folk do not believe in these chemicals to enhance or protect their skin, they believed in the trusted Creamy Layer, good old malai (fresh cream) was a panacea for all their needs. South Indians would plump for coconut oil and Punjabis would go a step further and use desi ghee generously. No wonder their skins radiate even today.

Any takers for the back to the roots or malai….!

Mosquito Menace

It is well past midnight, after a session of Netflix, satellite TV programmes are passé, when one is just about falling asleep, from somewhere in the dark hidden spaces emerges a mosquito with just a single point agenda of not letting you sleep peacefully. It was a long day at work and a good night's siesta is what the doctor has ordered, but man proposes and mosquito disposes and with disdain. Like a kamikaze he just approaches his target, undaunted, a true 'mai ka lal'(mother's son), he even warns the victim of his intent with his gentle humming that here I am, 'catch me if you can'! In a valiant attempt I wave my arms around trying to ward him off, but I am no Prithviraj Chauhan, who could fire off a 'shabd bhedi baan'(an arrow shot only with the sound as an indication of target or 'sonic archery', a modern day acoustic radar picks up the target by its sound waves), so it is just an exercise in futility. During the second World War, Light Machine Guns(LMG) were deployed in anti aircraft role, where they would try and engage any aircraft which came close enough within range could be shot down. I am not sure if it succeeded ever, but probably it did give the ground soldier some psychological support at least. Our arms are typically like these LMGs just firing away for our own satisfaction, not scaring the pilots at all. Hoping against hopes that this show of strength  would deter him and let me drift onto a peaceful sleep which too is beckoning eagerly. 

Alas, mosquitoes are not such gentle souls, who would give in so easily, so this time he or is it a she, even more dangerous with the dengue menace prevalent, approaches from the starboard side of this human sub buzzing gently in the most innocuous and yet menacing way, "You can't just wish me away, I am here to do my job!" In yet another attempt I flail my arms all over trying to scare him/her away . No such luck, s(he) succeeds in the mission, finds his way onto an unprotected part pricks and flies off, leaving me  just swatting myself and in the bargain foregoing my forty winks.

As a kid, I had read a beautiful Japanese story about a very loving couple where the husband was madly in love with his wife, but unfortunately she dies; the desolate husband does penance and obtains a boon to bring her back to life by dropping three drops of his blood on his wife's body. Lo and behold, she resurrects....the husband is gloating and tells her as to how he managed to revive her! After a couple of days, when reminded of his penance again, the wife quite irritated by now, says, "Here take your three drops of blood, piercing her finger with a needle!"; the moment the blood drops fall off, she again turns lifeless. Deeply regretful, she now turns into a mosquito and is still looking for her elusive husband who could give her those three drops of blood...

Mosquito menace has been the bane of soldiers, in fact during the Burma Campaign more lives were lost to malaria than to the Japanese fire. So much so that it was an offence to get malaria for a soldier! Quite ridiculous you would say, well it carried on even post independence, as apparently the soldier either did not use the mosquito net or DMP oil (Dimethyl phthalate, mosquito repellant issued to all soldiers). The oil was a repellant alright , but not for mosquitoes, as they had made their peace with it, humans though rebelled against it. I am also reasonably sure that mosquito nets were designed by that same Japanese lady when she was reborn as a human to seek vengeance against humans. This net effectively puts us in a cage, with our nemesis free to roam around and mock at us, knowing very well that they will manage to sneak in some time in the night, when some part of your body would turn into a Mir Jafar (He betrayed Nawab Sirajudaullah in Battle of Plassey) and would provide them an opening to storm the citadel. Like an army of guerillas mosquitoes will  then swoop down and make a killing. We will be left clapping while the mosquitoes have flown away ...."Sala ek machhar admi ko hijra bana deta hai!"(Damn just one mosquito can turn a man into a eunuch), that is one of Nana Patekar's famous dialogues in a Hindi film. With due apologies to the woke generation lest they take an offence in my usage of this word for transgenders! 

Bucket List

How I wish I was ambidextrous, being able to use both my hands equally efficiently. Most of us use our right hands for all our routine tasks, some with a creative bent of mind, use their left hand. Why this sudden urge, well actually since it is the right hand which wields the razor for the morning shave, rinsing the razor has to be undertaken by opening the tap with your left hand. Now typically most bathrooms are fitted with two taps, the one on the left is for hot water and the right one is for cold water. So every morning one has to indulge in a rather complicated task of opening the cold water tap with the left hand. If I could shave with my left hand, it would be so much easier.

Bathrooms or washrooms as they are referred to these days, throw some other challenges especially with those who  find  handling the shower systems insurmountable. Invariably with a turn of the knob to the wrong side ends up drenching a suited booted person, if that was not enough, the modern day fitments, have jets at all possible places streaming at your  torso from most unexpected directions. In the confusion you end up turning those knobs every which way, but there is no respite and you end up resorting to the good old bucket and mug, the traditional "Lota"(globular water container) bath. 

These showers have gained currency in the last about three odd decades, barring the metros, the rest of India, bathed with the bucket and lota or in the rural areas straight from the hand pump, in the step wells, ponds, rivulets and so on.. We were blessed to be raised in that era in towns in the heartland where we too indulged in these luxuries, drawing water from the well with a pail and pouring it straight over your head is the most refreshing bath I have ever had. Pouring a whole bucket of cold water during peak winters is a sure fire way for building immunity against cold and cough. We resorted to that quite often. In the Army, fauj also provided us with ample opportunities to revert to the bucket and mug scene, all high altitude areas are devoid of running water during winters, hence it is the good old bucket to our rescue. In fact not just the mountainous regions of our country, even deserts, jungles, wherever we camped, we enjoyed these rustic pleasures.

Although the buckets which interest the spirited lot is the ice bucket for bars with champagne and KFC buckets of chicken. A couple of years ago, the "Ice bucket challenge" went viral on social media, where the individual was expected to pour a bucket of ice cold water on the head in support of some cause. It actually had nothing to do with personal hygiene though.  Buckets play a major role in our lives and even in our preparation for the journey to Valhalla.......A bucket list of things to do and enjoy before we finally kick the bucket!!

Delhi Belly

So we are at it again, if it was not for the Virs and Kanganas life would be so dull. We must actually be grateful to them rather than pouring scorn. The electronic media will then have to do some real reporting and research, which is oh so boring! After all, there are more such entertainers ready to pounce at any and every controversy to keep them relevant. With the advent of social media, there are adequate number of platforms which are available to every Swara, Vir and Kangana. Vir Das is just one among many such smart alecks who are aware that such an act is bound to pitchfork  him/her to the centre-stage. 

While Kangana is entitled to her views about when and how did India break the shackles of colonialism, she obviously has taken on the mantle of Rani Jhansi rather seriously and started to charge at windmills in a rather Quixotic manner. She is gutsy and has made a mark as an actor with some outstanding performances, but that does not make her a historian. Although, politicians are also great actors, not all actors are good politicians. Then  why do we take our entertainers so seriously, when they are only meant to entertain us? Though we are not alone who are so gullible. The oldest democracy in the world and the largest one have this common trait of electing film industry personnel to high offices. They have had their Reagan, Schwarzenegger, we have had MGR, Jayalalitha, Rajesh Khanna, Shatrughan Govinda, Hema, Jayaprada and so on....In fact most of them were not serious about their duties as elected representatives with some of them even bowing out like Amitabh; barring MGR, Jayalalitha, Karunanidhi and NTR who were a force to reckon with not just in their states but also at the national level, all the other were there only for fun and to win favours with the ruling party in power. 

Vir in Hindi means brave, but actually he is “Bheeru” which is the opposite of brave i.e. a coward. Why do I say so, well he chose a foreign soil and a foreign audience to vent out his ire on his perceptions of the existing state in the country.  May be he was suffering from Delhi Belly, no wonder his monologue was a byproduct; 'constipation of ideas and diarrhoea of words'(!) Freedom of expression is a funny fundamental right, that provides me with immunity to express my impressions and stick to them even if I am factually far from the truth. So he has exercised his right, chosen his own arena well aware of the consequences. A minority may agree with his version, personally I don’t agree with his views, probably so do majority of Indians, again a personal choice.

The Rajputana Rifles Regiment of Indian Army has its motto as "Veer Bhogya Vasundhara",  excerpted from a Puranic shloka, meaning "Only the Braves enjoy the Earth", this Vir is enjoying his infamy. Unfortunately for him, his 15 minutes of infamy was too short lived with PM Modi's repeal of Farm laws taking centre stage the very next day; the hungry pack of news channels just moved on and suddenly  no one gave a damn about what some Vir spoke somewhere. How I wish, our media barons had the wisdom to separate the wheat from the chaff  and refrained from raising such storms in tea cups.

Life is a celebration

 'Jashn-e-riwaz' was recently in the news for all the wrong reasons, a Happy occasion such as Diwali was marred by a silly controversy. I wonder whether a Diwali Mubarak would cease to be "shubh" or happy, or for that matter, a 'Shubh Eid' be unpalatable to the Ummah for having adulterated the puritanical Eid Mubarak"! Imagine the mess a mubarak or shubh Xmas would create rather than the usual Merry Xmas! Would Santa Claus be left sulking for having spoilt his merry HoHoHo and refuse to slide down the chimneys just because of a slip of the tongue. Have you ever wondered, as to why did homo sapiens firstly invent spoken languages for communication and how did these languages evolve over the years? While languages fulfil the basic need of communication, the intricacies or finer nuances of each language were refined by the litterateur. The lingua franca today is English, despite the Italian origin of the phrase and its early usage to describe the French-Italian jargons or pidgin. English is ruling the roost because it proved to be the most flexible and adaptive by choosing to adopt more foreign words as compared to its competitor, French, which too was running neck in neck for a number of years, until the emergence of US as a superpower tilted it in the favour of English.We Indians had at least one benefit after  the two centuries of colonial Raj, our prowess in the Queen's language!

Any guesses, as to why Hindi despite being our mother tongue and the national language has been restricted to just formal official correspondence that too with diktats of the 'Rashtrbhasha Prachar Samiti'   ( National language publicity committee).  Hindi which was taught in schools and colleges was highly sanskritised Hindi, not the popular Hindustani written in Devnagri script. For any language to be adopted, it must be easy to learn and speak, thereafter it should be flexible to adopt words from other languages and enrich itself by being more inclusive. Jungle, bazaar, pyjama, bungalow, chutney, guru and so on, there are hundreds of words which have found a place in the Oxford dictionary. Unfortunately we remained steadfast in our usage of correct Hindi, thereby discouraging others and impeding its natural growth. Hindi films, songs and entertainment industry by and large have done a yeoman service by spreading the language even beyond our borders. Soft power of this kind plays a major role in winning over the populace rather than forcing it down the throats of unwilling citizens. Yes, there is a lot of politics in the languages conundrum but if the powers that be are really keen to spread the reach of this beautiful language, they must release the shackles and let it bloom....

Anyway let us get back to the 'jashn', which in Urdu means celebration and riwaz is simply tradition. The ad itself is inspired by the vintage Siyaram ad where the Prince is welcomed in a Royal homecoming. So let the celebrations continue whether we call it Jashn, tyohar, utsav or festival…just a matter of semantics(!).Call it what suits you but celebrate we must…after all life itself is a celebration!