On the Fringes of Life

 The Write Tribe Wednesday Prompt # 7
 
Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart. – Winnie the Pooh

In her book 'The Top Five Regrets of the Dying' a nurse rendering palliative care writes about the most common regrets people have at the end of their lives. Most of the comments posted on this article were compulsively readable and thought provoking.

Some said that the nurse was out to make money from the misery of her patients. Others  said, they had no regrets at all.

I really pity the vain girl who wrote, ‘If I were to die in the next few minutes, I would regret the fact that I've still not gotten dressed yet.’

Then there was a guy who said, ‘I don't need to be on my deathbed to regret not having more sex - it's a recurring sentiment every morning. ’

A pessimist filled with a sense of futility, commented, ‘God, I regret being born. It's just years of sorrow and regret and then decay and death.’

This article compelled me to introspect. The top five regrets according to the nurse were:

I wish I'd had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.

I have to admit that I was true to myself, so no regrets on this account.

I wish I hadn't worked so hard.

 I wish I had worked hard. Being inherently lazy, and inspired by Bertrand Russell’s famous essay, ‘In Praise of Idleness’, I have ample idleness and leisure in my life.

I wish I had the courage to express my feelings.

I wish I could hide some. I display emotions with childlike ease which complicates situations.

I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends.

I don’t have many friends, but I am satisfied with my limited trusted list of friends. No regrets.

I wish I had let myself be happier.

Let me rephrase this one. I wish I was not a worrier. I wish I was less anxious about things that were not in my control. Events in life have unraveled and unfolded in unimaginable ways. And worrying never solved any problem. Never.

Since the first four regrets were not on my list, I pondered over the fifth one. How was it possible to let myself be happier? More sport, more music, more travel, more places is all I can think. But the real answer eludes me.

The answer perhaps is in giving more, and not asking for more. Maybe, giving happiness is the only way happiness can come in our lives.
But no point waiting for apocalypse to figure out regrets, if any.  Now is the time.

Picture Courtesy: Flickr/winter-light

China to Chandni Chowk

A Chinese electronics manufacturer, I am told, is leading the set-top box (STB) market in India as we shift to the era of digital TV. Close to seventy percent of STBs sold within the country are imported, mainly from China.

So what exactly is my quibble? Two things.

First is the ambiguity regarding the need to import such basic appliances? That a nuclear power has to import STBs is a mystery more complex than Rahul Gandhi’s marital status or Shahrukh’s urge to be a dad again. The fact is that some multi-system operators are manufacturing STBs, but with the escalation of import duty there are no real incentives for domestic production. Why wasn’t a plan in place, given the deadline of complete digitization by 2014?

It so happened that my set-top box began behaving like a temperamental teen. In the presence of guests or during an important match, it displays errors for no rhyme or reason. This was a week before the rains arrived. So the issue was purely technical and not linked to bad weather.

Second, the technological means adopted by telecom companies to register a complaint are frustrating. If you love listening to music and punching keys, lodging a complaint can be fun. If you don’t, continue taking deep breaths and slowly count till ten, while your service provider takes you on a merry ride.

‘Namaskar. XXX main aapka sawagat hai. Yadi aap Hindi mein baat karna chahate hain to kripya ek dabaye. If you wish to proceed in English press 2.’

Irrespective of what you press, you get to hear recorded messages in Hinglish. The route to speak to a live human is via inescapable recorded self-promotion. Watch Champions Trophy on X channel, watch movies on Y channel, and so on.

I am sure you are familiar with the tone and tenor of the recorded sing-song voice, which desperately tries to sound sexy but ends up sounding like a sensual witch. Jaldi kijiye, offer seemit hai.

Finally, after some more music and due process of ‘Press this and Press that’ I was able to speak to a live customer care representative.

‘Line par bane rehene ke liye dhanyavaad. Alka ji apke sheher ka mausam kaisa hai?’

‘Mausam to ashiqana hai, but set-top box is not working.’

Make note of the irony, that each time I lodge a complaint, I get a ‘Happy Code’. To be fair to my service provider, a technician promptly visited my place. But the set-top box conked off within minutes of his leaving. Again. This happened thrice in a week. By the end, I was as bugged as I was when I saw ‘Chandni Chowk to China’.

Given our reputation of hanky-panky, I reckon someone in the telecom industry is already a billionaire and someone in China is smiling all the way to the bank, while consumers fret and fume.

Why should the consumer accept substandard STBs? Last minute ‘jugaad’ technology is visible in every sphere of life, be it disaster management or technology advancement. Unfortunate.

Power Chat – Anytime, Anywhere, Anyone

Amartya Sen, in his book ‘The Argumentative Indian’ was spot on when he wrote about the Indian penchant for debates, discussion and intellectual pluralism. The chatting gene is hardwired in our DNA. We love to chat. Simple!

The new mobile application,We Chat, provides a platform to communicate via voice messages, texts and images. Since the download is free and works on multiple platforms, I was able to chat with five celebrities featuring on the new Indian Edition of Power List 2014.

Navjoke Singh Sidhu: Why Sidhu? Well, for the sheer fun of his verbal acrobatics. Have you seen anyone so tickled by his own jokes? With a surfeit of opinions, he is like a vending machine for quotes and proverbs. And you don’t even have to insert a coin.

“Congratulations on toppling Dhoni to become most powerful sport celebrity. Tell me, how do you memorize so many quotes?”

“Dekho, we are what we quote. A quotation is like a diamond in the

hands of a man of wit. I was always good. Soon after my birth I told the nurse, 'That’s the last time I am going up there'," laughs Sidhu. "Hehohahaha."

“Tell me about the cricket controlling board,” I ask smiling through gritted teeth. “This is a private, so spill.”

“Guru, the board is like a new bra - shining cups, tight hold and hardly any transparency. It is like a new born baby - a loud mouth on one end and no sense of responsibility on the other. It is like...”

I quit. But Sidhu continues to shake his Android phone to look for other chat partners.

***

Arnab Goswami: Being the judge, jury, executioner, petitioner, defendant and the final arbitrator of all that is right, Arnab is the most powerful media celebrity. Night after night, he hyperventilates to purge the nation from its miseries. Why? Because the nation wants to know!

“Good morning Arnab. The nation is wondering what’s behind all the bluster and voice modulation?”

“Nothing yaar. Since I don’t get to speak at home, I shout during News

Hour,” says Arnab as he looks around. “This is a private, right?”

“Yep. So Arnab, are you as confrontational with your wife as you are with the television guests? Yes or No?”

“With her, I am as aggressive as A.K. Hangal of Sholay,” says Arnab sheepishly.

***

Mallika Sherawat: The self-proclaimed international star toppled Katrina to become the most powerful actress. I am not sure about her acting talent but our Haryanavi girl sure has guts. A chat with Mallika enlightened me on issues of women empowerment and career management. Here is a glimpse.

“What’s with your twang Mallika? The accent, I mean,” I ask her.

“What twaaangg?"

I send her a video. 

"Nonsense. I used to speak the same way as a kid in Rohtak. I was this little girl who kind of spoke hurr mind, gave hurr opinions and smooched all the cows in hurr cowshed,” says Mallika.

***

Sanjay Jhaa: Cometh the hour, cometh the man. His gold winning performance in defending the indefensible has helped him earn a place among the most powerful in politics. He straddles the political and the virtual world with amazing smugness. Impressed with his ability to handle the media, I chatted with the indignant loyalist who has become the most powerful politician in 2014.

“Sanjay, you were the lone warrior of an unrepentant state. How

did you manage to face Arnab’s wrath?”

“Easy. Offense is the best form of defense. And when I don’t have an answer, I change the question. Then, I am good at convincing people that two wrongs make a right. It works all the time. Try it.”

***

EN Srinivasan: Confronted with adversity, Mr Srinivasan stood ground like a mountain in a snow storm. Imagine molesting morality, crushing outrage and becoming the most powerful Indian businessman? His cement company contributed to Bharat Nirman and he toppled Mukesh Ambani to emerge as the most powerful businessman in 2014. My Android phone connected instantly with his iOS via Facebook.

“How do you manage to survive the media onslaught with such

amazing self-righteousness?”

“What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger. And stop hounding me.”

“I am not hounding you. In fact I want to invite you for a Group Chat to learn from your survival strategy,” I plead.

“I’m busy. I’ll record my message and release it to send later,” says Srinivasan and walks away.

***

I invited the above five for a Group Chat and we discussed all about being rich, famous and powerful.

Me: Guys, congratulations. How does it feel to be on the Power List, 2014?

Sidhu (laughs uncontrollably): Guru, someone has rightly said that being powerful is like being a lady. If you have to tell people that you are, you aren’t.

Mallika: Huh? I dhon’t agree. Unless you tell people, how will they know? It’s all about shouting and announcing. I was the first woman to wear a bikini, you know. And I am in LA right now.

Srinivasan (angrily): What rubbish! Who is she? Power is not governed by what others think of you. I think therefore I am.

Arnab (agitated): Mr. Jha? I heard you manipulated your way on this list. Is it true? I demand an answer.

Sanjay (smiles): Have you tried it on the rocks Arnab? Power is like a peg which encourages notions of divinity. It is worth all the sucking up. I don’t care much for fame. Fame brings scrutiny. And money? Well as far as I know, power and money go hand in hand.

Arnab (getting all worked up): No. No. No. Please be specific. Times Now has proof that you manipulated your way on this list, Mr Jha. The nation wants to know.

Sanjay (confidently): So what? Srini did it too.

Srinivasaan (calls his lawyer): Dude, I am going to sue you. And Sidhu, you come and see me in the office.

Sidhu quits and leaves for Chennai immediately .

Me: Chill guys. Tell me, if you had to pick between wealth, power and fame, which one would you go for and why?

Sanjay (smiles): All three.

Srinivasan: Power without accountability any day.

Arnab: What about responsibility Mr. Srinivasan? The universe demands an answer.

Srinivasan: I make my own rules Mr. Goswami.

Arnab: You bet!

Mallika (flutters eyelashes and squeals):  He bets? Really? I'll go for him.

Sanjay (confused): Who is this girl? I have seen her somewhere.

Me: She is on your  Facebook cover Mr Jha. Arnab, what about you ? Power, wealth or money?

Arnab: As long as I get to expose, all three will come to me.

Mallika: How can you expose? Exposing is my forte. See? (Uses

the ‘Moments’ feature to share this picture.)

Srinivasan quits. Sanjay saves the picture on his latest Samsung.

Arnab: What about you Alka?

Me: You know what? Suddenly, I feel strange contentment in being penniless, anonymous and powerless.

(Disclaimer: This is a piece of fiction as imagined by the writer. The intention is not to insult or malign individuals. This is a contest entry for Indiblogger in partnership with We Chat. Pictures are sourced from Wikipedia and Google. )

Ladies Special

This is for all the impeccably dressed men with gelled hair and clipped nails, who graced the red carpet at the Cannes Film Festival. Irrespective of how they looked or which designer they wore, unfortunately, most went unnoticed. The paparazzi preferred the fairer sex.

Debutante director Ritesh Batra’s film ‘The Lunchbox’ won the coveted Viewers Choice Award, and yet the media was more interested in Vidya Balan’s nose piece than his film. Do we even know who Ritesh Batra is? Or how he looks? No. But we do know the color of Ameesha Patel’s eye shadow.

The shimmy shimmer parade during film festivals and award ceremonies is all about women, glitz and glamour. For some strange reason, the media prefers to talk about Madonna’s conical bustier designed by Jean Paul Gautier she wore in 1991, rather than a film like ‘The Bling Ring’ which won rave reviews.
Come to think of it, the film festivals and other award ceremonies are women-centric fashion carnivals. There is little scope for men to compete. I mean, how many different black suits can you wear? Hundred bucks, if you can tell an Armani from a tux put together by my tailor in South Delhi. (Yeah, I know betting is illegal. My uncle is in the BCCI.) 

So clearly, a man can wear the same suit for all the events and go unnoticed. But imagine the Goddess of red carpet, Ashwariya Rai wearing the same sari on two occasions? All hell will break loose, Ash will be pilloried to pulp and the city of Cannes will  submerge in shame.While women get noticed, they also get dissected for everything from their hairdo to footwear. The opinionated messiahs of fashion have an opinion for every cut and every slit. What on earth was she thinking, the matronly dress added years to her figure, she looked like a headmistress at a prayer meeting, or plain and simple aunty ji (hurts the most).

There is no denying that men  were ignored, no matter what they wore. But there is hope for those who wish to create a red carpet history.

Wear a Sabyasachi Lungi: Remember Anurag Kashyap’s red gamcha at Cannes Film Festival last year? It was more talked about than his film. A brocade lungi or dhoti designed by Sabya can make a mark next year.

Strike the iconic one leg pose: The one bare leg exposed with a

thigh end split is a proven attention grabber. A trouser with a long slit may do the job. For added praise, get a tattoo on freshly waxed legs.

Wear Glitz, Bling: Breaking away from somber black suits, ask your tailor to custom design a transparent sequined coat to go with fluorescent trousers. Had Amitabh not worn that sequined black coat or that belt on his paunch, the media would have given him a cold shoulder.

Lift the lungi/dhoti: If nothing works, lift the damn thing. Irrespective of the merits of your film, you will be the most searched internet celebrity.

Others, like my husband, can happily wear five different white shirts and attend several events ranging from marriages to parties, to conferences to bereavement. No stress.

Love is not Enough

Fiction

How is it possible, I wonder, for a mother to ignore the signs? When it comes to being a parent, love is not enough.  One has to make sense of the sighs, decipher the silences and decode the monosyllables. I think I was a good mother. And if you ask my husband or our daughter, they would agree. I make no excuses for my lapses, but it is also true that the guilt pangs clawing my heart will stay for a long time to come. 

A note from Ananya’s teacher informed that she was bunking classes. ‘She will have to take extra classes after school to cope with the syllabus.’

Ananya, our first-born turned fourteen last year. Mood swings came with the territory. She became a brooder, immersed in books and cocooned in music. Any attempt to share thoughts met with sighs and groans. She seemed to have developed a knack of appearing to listen while she was lost in her world. Worse, she was neglecting studies and there were moments when I caught her looking vacuously at her text books. 

That day, she kept avoiding my gaze and didn’t quite finish her dinner. I peeped into her room. Slouched on her bed, she was lost in a novel. 

‘Ananya… Why aren’t you eating?’

I wondered if I was talking to a wall.

I entered her room, snatched the novel and flung it on the bed. ‘No novels before mid-term. Finish your food. And take out your chemistry book. You nearly flunked this term.’

In a strange way, she looked vulnerable when she looked at me for a brief moment.

‘What is it?’

‘I am not going to school tomorrow.’

‘But why?’

‘I don’t want to go,’ she said defiantly. ‘That’s why.’ 

I walked out leaving behind silence. It was so easy to love my girl when she was a kid. Time was when she shared everything when it came to which dress to wear, how to style her hair, what movies to watch or which cookies to bake. My husband said it was normal for teens to find solace in solitude. I believed him. 

In the following weeks, my girl became a stranger to me. We were drifting apart for reasons beyond comprehension.  I would be lying if I said that I made serious attempts to know what she was going through. Her appetite diminished, and I blamed it on her fetish for a slim figure. She trudged towards the bus stop, and I dismissed it as her revulsion for studies. She continued talking to her friend in hushed tones, and I thought it was girly gossip. 

A day prior to the parent-teacher meet, I received a call from Ananya’s class mate. ‘Did you read the paper aunty? He’s gone. Finally.’ 

I scanned the newspaper with a pounding heart. The small snippet on the second page connected the dots. Suddenly I could trace my series of lapses.

A case of molestation was registered against a fifty year old teacher. The chain of exploitation began soon after he was appointed as the chemistry teacher at a reputed school…

When I entered my daughter’s room she was talking to her friend. Her shoulders were shaking mildly. I could sense that she was sobbing. She saw the paper in my hand, turned her head and looked at me. When our eyes met, I could sense both - her anguish and her relief. She leaned towards me hesitatingly. As I embraced her, she hugged me tightly.  It was as if she wanted to hold me forever. 

 (This is a contest entry for Indiblogger Colgate Total Contest - My Healthy Speak Blog.)

Moral of the story - Do not ignore the signs whether it is bleeding gums or simmering emotions.

(Image Courtesy: Google Images lifefamilyeducation.com)

The Uncle Factor

Google Images

At a time when powerful maternal uncles have become increasingly indispensable, I miss a benevolent influential one. Since my mother was not blessed with a brother, I don’t even have an uncle, leave alone a powerful one. When I watch the meteoric rise of the accused Railgate nephew  a sinking feeling engulfs me. Imagine the perks of an influential uncle heading a ministry or a resourceful uncle in the sarkari establishment? I could easily bag contracts, promise lucrative postings and jerk around, ‘Kya kar logey? Mera mamu hai na’.

The presence of a powerful uncle does different things to different people. For a struggling Imran, an uncle in Aamir provided easy access to movie directors. In the case of nephew who allegedly ran a cheat micro-financing company, an aunt at the helm of a state provided credibility. And for Emran Hashmi, an uncle in Mahesh Bhatt presented opportunities to kiss and sell.

Is it any surprise that I am tempted to adopt an uncle who can pull the strings in the corridors of power? I am planning to send letters, requesting for adoption to all the reigning deities (ministers and top bureaucrats) cutting across party lines. With the hike in air fares, my first attempt will be to adopt an uncle in the aviation industry. Imagine getting discounted  fares, not having to pay for extra baggage or an aisle seat. Depending on the clout of my adoptive uncle, I am not ruling out a cut in future aircraft deals – purchase and maintenance included.

An uncle in the tourism ministry would provide hassle free visa and an unforgettable stay at the beaches of Hawaii. Come on, it’s not that bad. An all expense paid beach holiday is a small perk compared to the fortunes made by other nephews and nieces, but it’s a good start to begin with.

I also intend to write a letter to the top officials in the  ministry for sports. For all you know, I will be flying business class to watch Olympics along with the Indian contingent. If nothing else, I will get free invites to all the IPL parties where I can shake a leg with Chris Gayle and discuss diamond clarity with Neeta Ambani.

Our Information and Broadcasting minister, they say, has tremendous clout in the corridors of media. If he agrees to be my uncle, I see myself in the DD studious dispensing wisdom on everything - from objectification of women to Talibanization of  society. Courtesy my uncle or his accountant, I can get unsecured loans to start my own news channel. Arnab, calm it down, 'your channel' will have a new rival. Soon.

Since defence ministry is tough to penetrate, I am aiming to adopt one of the top bosses in the armed forces. As defence deals go, a teeny-weeny cut  in helicopter transactions or coffin contracts will ensure bliss for my forthcoming generations. And how comforting is that!

Mamu, where art thou?

To Kill A Rocking Word

Words can kill as good as a gun, but we seem to be killing words minus guns. While most kosher words are dead, others have lost meaning. Some have been mutilated so badly that they have become jokes. For example, look at what we have done to the word enquiry. ‘An enquiry will reveal all’, says supremely efficient Shinde in his signature bumbling style. Hello sir? Even the most naïve in remote Jharkhand is aware that an enquiry equals sham. Despite the grammar and spell check, if any worthwhile fiction is being written today, it is in the fact finding reports of investigations.No wonder people are on the streets and justice is gasping for breath.

Then we have more than generous sprinkling of secularism. Notwithstanding the thesaurus definition, secularism today means appeasement. “We will not allow ‘sampradayik takats’ to come to  power,” say the champions of secularism. Those singing the siren song of secularism have shoved such huge amounts of secularism in our eyes that we are now semi-blind with deceit.

This brings me to another dead gem - Principle. “Those are my principles, and well, if you don’t like them…..I have others,” said Marx. Did he have a premonition or what? The word has been trampled and mutilated so often, that it is officially buried. Try using the word in your speech and I promise you a Lok Sabha ticket from any constituency.

Accountability passed away recently. It was killed with help of a remote control. Accidental leaders say ‘Power is poison,’ and yet continue to hold the remote and drink copious amounts of poison. Since accountability died, we must be the only country headed by a silent man of honor presiding over the most inept government.

Debate is not dead. Yet. But it has lost meaning. Debate is synonymous with trading accusations, ending on a note that several wrongs make a right. If you hear a citizen laughing hysterically, he is either watching a debate in the house or on prime time.

The lashings of morality and integrity are the worst. Morality died decades ago, but has become a joke posthumously. When was the last time someone said, ‘I resign on moral grounds’? According to the contemporary thesaurus, morality equals total, unadulterated, hypocrisy. Try using the word in your daily conversation. People will think you are either an alien or Sherlyn Chopra.

Is it any surprise that after the demise of principles, enquiry, and accountability, governance is missing in action?

While kosher words are dying, rogue words stay true to their nature. Scam, injustice, rape, barbarism, brutality and terror are alive and kicking. Scam being the most popular, it is raining scams. Left, Right and West Bengal. Is it any surprise that the met department has promised a normal monsoon?

Why did we allow this to happen?

We can debate the issue. Or maybe an enquiry will reveal all.


Picture Courtesy: Google Images (www.someecards.com)