Bill Gates was talking to the high school students about everything, which he believed that neither books, schools or parents taught them. The message I liked most was- Life is not fair. No, I agree, life is not. You can spend your teenage thinking why God made your boobs smaller than your bum and then realize as you grow older that it is not just genetic issues, it is a host of small and big things like in-laws, exams and jobs, but then you can always look around and find somebody, who thinks your life is perfect, or so it seems to them. Well actually if you think from their point of view, the imperfections in your own life become faint and the positives push you along. What constitutes a good life is something, which is different for everybody and tends to change for each of us all the time. .
I have been trying to cheer myself up with the resigned views of the Geeta. "What happened was for the best, what is going to happen is the best and what is happening now is great." Well, I wish I had this faith in the almighty, I could breathe in deeply as I saw my daughter get up late (jo hua, acchha hua), take ages combing her hair(jo ho raha hai, wo achha hai) and not worry that she will miss the bus (jo hoga, acchha hoga)
No I think this is a simplistic view of the Geeta. Geeta asks you to do your best, while having faith not to worry about results. So it is important that you set the alarm, try to get out of bed and get ready on time but if you cant find your socks or the alarm clock goes bust, you should have the faith that all the shouting that you get from your parents and a miserable day at home with the Maths book, will be good for you. Life is like that, what seems then, like the end of the world sometimes, is just the beginning.
Another message from Holy Geeta is-"Whatever is yours today, was somebody else's yesterday and will be somebody else's tomorrow." This is a good thing for wives to remember, when faced with unresponsive husbands, who have their eyes glued to Pamela Anderson on Baywatch.
Another thing that Bill Gates said was- Life doesnt allow you time to find yourself. I agree. While in student life, your mind is free to roam, experiment, dream and get influenced by. The oppurtunity to do that as you get older becomes scarce. The rat race to be smarter than your mates in college coupled with the daily struggle to walk the tightrope of being a good mother or wife comes in the way. I wanted to be a school teacher until I learnt that it wasnt what would be considered a top job. I think as you grow older, you become an onion with peels of influences around you, taking you more and more away from the real you. I wish schools, parents and teachers would encourage children to remain original in thought and not become a dangerously homogenous sea of ambitious wannabes tumbling out of the assembly line.
Bill Gates also said "Nobody cares about your self esteem" When you have seen it being crushed around like a sweet wrapper, you realize what this man is saying. The problem is, though that it is not until you go through life can you actually imbibe all these lessons. All of us have heard about the survey which asked people to choose between earning 10, 000 while others earned 8,000 and earning 12000 when others earned 13,000. Most respondents said they would prefer the first, meaning they would prefer to earn less money in actual terms as long as it is more than what others earn. So clearly, all the fat bonuses and salaries are just to feel good, not for what money can buy, after a certain hundred thousands, I would think.
I wish self esteem wasnt about your pay packet, but it often is. It is about position, it is about skills, but mostly it is about what others think of you. Everybody, even the most cynical and eccentric people worry about what certain people would think of them. Self help books tell you to stay away from people who are bad for your self esteem but sometimes you dont have a choice.
I remember now, what my father or mother may have said, when I was in school or college, little sayings or proverbs, sometimes, to elicit what they had learnt the hard way. "Oppurtunity does not knock twice", "Life has no short cuts", "If you aim for the sky you will reach the palm tree" "Take your critics seriously, they brighten up your surroundings" Those were words then, they only give us wisdom now. Life is indeed the best teacher.
Friday, 5 February 2010
Monday, 28 December 2009
NHS- a melting pot
When I came to England for the first time in 1998, I was not expecting to meet and get to know people from so many nations. My Italian colleague could not understand why I spoke to my Indian (Goan/South Indian) friends in English while I seemed to use my own tongue to converse with people from Pakistan. It made matters worse for the poor man, when we tried explaining that the two languages had different scripts, but were spoken in a similar way. He had enough trouble remembering names of my colleagues from Africa, Middle East and South East Asia. Greek, Polish, Russian, German, Egyptian.... NHS employs them all.
2009 here in our staff residences, has been a good year. The celebrations started at Eid. Arrival of disposable and non disposable containers of rich sewai and steaming Hyderabadi Biryani from the neighbourhood, made our day. This was then followed by the whole neighbourhood, celebrating navratra. Some of the more auspicious days had us relishing sweets and snacks from multiple households as they celebrated in their own unique ways. Little girls were in demand too, for the well known "feast for the girls" ritual. We missed Diwali, as we were in India, but I am sure there must have been much festivity then, and finally Christmas is here.
For children living in England, Christmas is about gifts and decorations and for the local people it is also a time for family gatherings. Our customary walks to the beach were much more lively during the holidays as extended families in groups were walking together, apart from the usual dog walkers. There were even wreaths laid on the seats looking out to the sea, which had been erected in memory of couples from the previous century, who had perhaps enjoyed the beach then,as much as we do today.
Christmas is about decorated wards, shops and houses. Christmas brings to life, the otherwise depressing and dull winter. But what most families like ours, simply cannot escape, is putting up and decorating the Christmas tree and finding presents to go underneath it. Children love the suspense of looking longingly at the increasing pile of gifts under the tree to be opened on Christmas day. At work, paper invitations of various Christmas get togethers go up on walls, for people to put their names down on. Though Christmas get togethers and exchange of gifts and cards can cause a lot of stress to a lot of people, some of whom have been known to say- "I hate Christmas"
On Christmas day too, our melting pot neighbourhood, did not fail us. We were treated to sweets and snacks from a South Indian Christian family. Trying to explain to my son, why Christmas was more important for this Indian friend and neighbour, even though the rest had Christmas trees peeping out of their windows, was interesting.
His observation that he would not like to move into a big house as he will lose all his friends was made note of, by us. I will remind him, when he is older, looking for a bigger house, bigger car....when life will be much more, than tearing around over hills and plains, in rain and snow in his bike!
Hopefully he will still have friends to bike around with!
2009 here in our staff residences, has been a good year. The celebrations started at Eid. Arrival of disposable and non disposable containers of rich sewai and steaming Hyderabadi Biryani from the neighbourhood, made our day. This was then followed by the whole neighbourhood, celebrating navratra. Some of the more auspicious days had us relishing sweets and snacks from multiple households as they celebrated in their own unique ways. Little girls were in demand too, for the well known "feast for the girls" ritual. We missed Diwali, as we were in India, but I am sure there must have been much festivity then, and finally Christmas is here.
For children living in England, Christmas is about gifts and decorations and for the local people it is also a time for family gatherings. Our customary walks to the beach were much more lively during the holidays as extended families in groups were walking together, apart from the usual dog walkers. There were even wreaths laid on the seats looking out to the sea, which had been erected in memory of couples from the previous century, who had perhaps enjoyed the beach then,as much as we do today.
Christmas is about decorated wards, shops and houses. Christmas brings to life, the otherwise depressing and dull winter. But what most families like ours, simply cannot escape, is putting up and decorating the Christmas tree and finding presents to go underneath it. Children love the suspense of looking longingly at the increasing pile of gifts under the tree to be opened on Christmas day. At work, paper invitations of various Christmas get togethers go up on walls, for people to put their names down on. Though Christmas get togethers and exchange of gifts and cards can cause a lot of stress to a lot of people, some of whom have been known to say- "I hate Christmas"
On Christmas day too, our melting pot neighbourhood, did not fail us. We were treated to sweets and snacks from a South Indian Christian family. Trying to explain to my son, why Christmas was more important for this Indian friend and neighbour, even though the rest had Christmas trees peeping out of their windows, was interesting.
His observation that he would not like to move into a big house as he will lose all his friends was made note of, by us. I will remind him, when he is older, looking for a bigger house, bigger car....when life will be much more, than tearing around over hills and plains, in rain and snow in his bike!
Hopefully he will still have friends to bike around with!
Saturday, 14 November 2009
मीठी मीठी यादें
बड़े दिनों से देवर जी की ख्वाइश थी कि मै हिन्दी में लिखूं । हाल फिलहाल की भारत यात्रा, इस श्री गणेश के लिए अति उत्तम है।
भारत जाना हमेशा एक निराला अनुभव होता है। दोस्तों रिश्तेदारों से मिलना, बाज़ारों के चक्कर...हालाँकि हर बार कुछ न कुछ एकता कपूर के नाटक कि तरह दिलचस्प और रक्तचाप बढ़ाने वाला हो ही जाता है लेकिन फिर भी.....
बच्चों के खिल खिले चेहरे देख कर ज़रूर दो किलो खून बढ़ जाता है। फिर चाहे वो सड़क पर चलते वाहन रोक कर पटाखे चला रहे हों, पड़ोसी की छत पर अपनी रॉकेट की उड़ान देख रहे हों या चाचा के सामने बैठ कर स्कूटर चलाने का लुफ्त उठा रहे हों, या जीप के पिछले हिस्से में खड़े हो कर हवा खा रहे हों.लेकिन इस बार तो दीवाली के अलावा उन्होंने दिल्ली दर्शन भी किया.
काश अगर हम भी बच्चे होते ....हम तो कोल्हू के बैल बने हैं, धोबी के गधे ....दुनिया भर के धंधों में हमारी भारत यात्रा का मुख्य ध्येय था, एक ज़माने पहले खरीदी हुई दुकान को अपने नाम कराना. भारतवासी भली तरह वाकिफ होंगे की पैसों से खरीदी हुई खुद की चीज़ को सरकार के नज़र में अपना केहेलवाने के लिए कितने पापड बेलने पड़ते हैं.
हमने अपने पापड़, दिल्ली हवाई अड्डे पर कदम रखने, के कई दिनों पहले से बेलने शुरू कर दिए थे। दिल्ली में रहने वाला हमारा छोटा भाई, फ़ोन पर हमारी आवाज़ सुन सुन कर पक गया था. उस बेचारे ने जीजू का मान रखने के लिए बिल्डर, बैंक, वकील सबके चक्कर काटे लेकिन इसके बावजूद हम कुतुब मीनार को दूर से ही तरसती आंखों से देखते हुए , कमल मन्दिर से माफ़ी मांगते हुए, वकील के घर जो सुबह पहुंचे तो शाम को लौटे।
वकील के घर, हम जैसे कई लोग अपने फ्लैट की रजिस्ट्री के लिए बैठे थे. एक दम्पति अमेरिका से आये थे. हम सब एक दुसरे का परिचय ले और दे ही रहे थे की हस्ताक्षर के लिए पोथियाँ पकडा दी गयीं. बीसियों पन्ने और हर पन्ने पर बाएं हाथ के अंगूठे के निशान और हस्ताक्षर दोनों, दोनों जन के. काफी मेहनत और लगन से हम इस कार्य में जुट गए. कहाँ हस्ताक्षर हो रहें हैं, कागज़ पर क्या लिखा है, सही है या नहीं, इस सब की फुर्सत कहाँ. चूँकि सब इस दलदल में फंसे थे, किसी ने यह सवाल उठाया भी नहीं की यह पुलिंदा हमे एक दिन पहले पढने के लिए देना तो था.
अब तक तो सब एक दुसरे को जानने लगे थे, स्याही, कलम से एक दुसरे की मदद भी कर रहे थे. तालाब के दूसरे छोर पर अटकी नैया में बैठे सभी बड़ी जल्दी एकजुट हो जाते हैं. मंजिल एक हो तो हाथ अपने आप एक दूसरे को थाम लेते हैं.
फिर शुरू हुआ इंतज़ार का सिलसिला "हमारा आदमी कार्यालय में है, जैसे ही हमारा नंबर आएगा, हमे फ़ोन करेगा" फिर बिल्डर वाले साहब से अमेरिका से आये हुए साहब ने पूछा "मोबाइल का बिल कंपनी देती है?" जवाब मिला "कहाँ साहब, बिल भी खुद देते हैं और मंदी की वजह से तनख्वाह भी ज़माने से नहीं बढ़ी."
मुझे समझ में नहीं आता की कुछ साल पहले, बिना मोबाइल के कैसे काम चलता था. आजकल तो टैक्सी, धोबी, नाई, बढई....सब "व्यस्त हैं, कृपया इंतज़ार करें". भारत के ये छोटे स्तर के व्यवसायी, सी एन एन पर एक दिन चर्चा का विषय बने हुए थे. संवाद दाता सड़क के किनारे पर बैठ कर नकली दांत बनाने वाले और उनकी दक्षता पर टिपण्णी कर रही थी, जब उससे अहम् सवाल किया गया-"क्या कोई भी इंडिया में टैक्स देता है?" अच्छा
सवाल है.
काफी देर के इंतज़ार के बाद उसी क्षण पचीस हज़ार रुपये की मांग की गयी- आपकी दुकान की मार्केट वैल्यू बढ़ गयी है, इसलिए स्टांप ड्यूटी भी. झट पट घर जाकर दोनों माताओं के बटुए टटोल कर हम फिर हाज़िर हुए बाएँ अंगूठे और कलम के साथ. वकील के यहाँ चौकीदारी करने वाले चहचहाते पक्षी अपने पंख समेट कर मुरझाये से बैठे थे. पता लगा "साहब" दादरी गए हैं, बस किसी मिनट आने वाले हैं. जब तक साहबजी दुर्लभ बने हुए थे, हमने चाट और पान का मज़ा लिया. वापसी में हमारे साथ इंतज़ार करने वाले मिल गए. सुबह वाले जोश में सब बोले "आपको पहले चाट खाने जाना था"
फिर हम एक कमरे का ग्रेटर नॉएडा प्राधिकरण का कार्यालय, वहां पहुंचे. एक तरफ पंखे के नीचे एक बाबू अपने सामने खुली पोथी और पीछे बंद पोथियों के ढेर के बीच बैठे थे. कमरे के बीच में पारदर्शी दीवार थी और उस दीवार में तीन छोटी छोटी खिड़किया थीं. दीवार के दूसरी तरफ दुर्लभ वस्तु यानी "साहब" बैठे थे, एसी में. हर खिड़की के पीछे एक बाबू और सामने एक कुर्सी थी. बाबू आवाज़ देते, हमे कुर्सी पर टिकाया जाता, डिजीटल कैमरा से हमारा चित्र और स्कैनर से हमारे बाएं अंगूठे का निशान लिया जाता और फिर अगला नाम पुकारा जाता.
भूत शहर की पदवी पाने वाले, मंदी की मार से जूझते अमेरिकी शहर, डेत्रोइत से आये हुए साहब से रहा नहीं गया और बोल पड़े- "मंदी , यह मंदी है ?" जींस पहने दम्पति ने कार्यालय के चारों ओर अस्थायी रूप से बने सैकडों नोटरी, वकील इत्यादि की दुकानों में खड़े दर्जनों लोगों को नज़रंदाज़ करते हुए, एक दूसरे के कमर में हाथ डाल कर तस्वीर खिंचवाई. सब ने एक दूसरे को मुबारक बाद दी.
दूकान हमारे नाम हुई लेकिन योगदान बहुत सारे लोगों का था. हम सब मिल कर कवाब फैक्ट्री गए. कवाब फैक्ट्री के मेनू में से बीच की दाल सब्जी का सिलसिला हटा देना चाहिए. पेट बेचारा तो नाना प्रकार के कवाब(शाकाहारी भी) से ही भर जाता है और फिर मिष्टान्न तो जैसे कैबरे करती हुई हेलन गा रही हो "अब तो आजा" भला इसे यानी मिष्टान्न को कौन ना कह सकता है. कुल्फी, फिरनी, जलेबी रबडी, गुलाब जामुन, शाही टुकडा....
हम वापस आ गए बाकी रह गयीं सिर्फ मीठी मीठी यादें!
Friday, 6 November 2009
Who am I?
When I was in Middle school in a small town in India we used to have visitors from the foreign land- a land filled with mystique in my then, soft clay like brain. The visitors, who were actually relatives travelling from South Africa, looked like us, but smelt different (mixed aroma of perfumes, aftershaves, shampoos..I can now guess), communicated nearly always only in English, brought gifts and were generally a very welcome break from the monotony of school and home for me.
But even though they loved to look around the town and marvel at the roadside dentist, optician, palmist, blacksmith, potter and florist at the "purana bazaar", some of them would insist on taking the long and often tiring journey by train, taxi, bullock cart and foot to my mum's village, which is where their great or greater grandad came from.
I am ashamed to say that I have not yet visited the village in question and as a little girl I was not able to understand, their need, to see for themselves, where they had originated from. Today I try to retrace that journey and realize it was probably a quest to answer the crucial question- "Who am I?".
Years ago people in England, would belong to a church, would be part of each other's lives in birth, death, sickness and marriage.But, as times changed and polygamous kings challenged the authority of churches and their views on divorce and abortion, numerous other churches came into being and today less than 1 in 10 people will call themselves Christian in England. Local commnunities have ceased to exist and politicians talk about mending broken society in Britain.
This has resulted in ironical situations. A British Airways employee went to court and lost her appeal to be able to openly wear her cross. A nurse faced disciplinary action for "offering" to pray for a very sick and old patient.
Yet, we have seen a resurgence of wavy beards, skull caps and hijabs, even amongst professionals like doctors and cricketers. Infection control has stripped Consultants of ties and jackets but the wavy beard is here to stay, in multicultural Britain.
Do religious doctrines, help people hold on to their faith in times when it comes under attack? Does it help answer the question about who they are, where do they come from, what do they believe in? Are youngsters attending Sunday School, less likely to play truant and be directionless?
We will never know. What we do know is that people are different and trying to club them together in the name of secularism and multiculturalism doesn't help. That is the reason, politicians continually and successfully play the various cards- race card, religion card, region card, caste card, class card, Europe card....all over the world.
People live an anonymous existence, especially in big cities and yet the need to belong to a group remains. The popularity of various groups on internet, a throbbing community today, is witness to this need.
We should recognize our need to belong....accept and celebrate our differences by practicing tolerance (quite successfully done in a majority of diverse India), rather than disregard our identities and try to be like each other (like the Hindu Indian NHS Consultant in the early 90s whose house was decorated like a market fair for the Christmas party he liked to host, all in an attempt to "fit in").
But even though they loved to look around the town and marvel at the roadside dentist, optician, palmist, blacksmith, potter and florist at the "purana bazaar", some of them would insist on taking the long and often tiring journey by train, taxi, bullock cart and foot to my mum's village, which is where their great or greater grandad came from.
I am ashamed to say that I have not yet visited the village in question and as a little girl I was not able to understand, their need, to see for themselves, where they had originated from. Today I try to retrace that journey and realize it was probably a quest to answer the crucial question- "Who am I?".
Years ago people in England, would belong to a church, would be part of each other's lives in birth, death, sickness and marriage.But, as times changed and polygamous kings challenged the authority of churches and their views on divorce and abortion, numerous other churches came into being and today less than 1 in 10 people will call themselves Christian in England. Local commnunities have ceased to exist and politicians talk about mending broken society in Britain.
This has resulted in ironical situations. A British Airways employee went to court and lost her appeal to be able to openly wear her cross. A nurse faced disciplinary action for "offering" to pray for a very sick and old patient.
Yet, we have seen a resurgence of wavy beards, skull caps and hijabs, even amongst professionals like doctors and cricketers. Infection control has stripped Consultants of ties and jackets but the wavy beard is here to stay, in multicultural Britain.
Do religious doctrines, help people hold on to their faith in times when it comes under attack? Does it help answer the question about who they are, where do they come from, what do they believe in? Are youngsters attending Sunday School, less likely to play truant and be directionless?
We will never know. What we do know is that people are different and trying to club them together in the name of secularism and multiculturalism doesn't help. That is the reason, politicians continually and successfully play the various cards- race card, religion card, region card, caste card, class card, Europe card....all over the world.
People live an anonymous existence, especially in big cities and yet the need to belong to a group remains. The popularity of various groups on internet, a throbbing community today, is witness to this need.
We should recognize our need to belong....accept and celebrate our differences by practicing tolerance (quite successfully done in a majority of diverse India), rather than disregard our identities and try to be like each other (like the Hindu Indian NHS Consultant in the early 90s whose house was decorated like a market fair for the Christmas party he liked to host, all in an attempt to "fit in").
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