Tuesday, October 21, 2014

Crack-Less And Not Cracker-less Deepawali



I dislike this new app called "NO to Deepawali crackers"discovered by liberals . Close the App and open the "I love my Culture; I shall abide by rules and limits to enjoy it" app. We smart people like smart phones have scrounged in too many apps in life. Trash them. Refresh memory, recharge self and add in beautiful apps.

I am a true bloody Indian! When it comes to festivals, I am even truly traditional Hindu. And when it's Deepawali, I loved doing hopscotch on roads midst red coloured crackers scattered all over. Some half burnt that might just buzz right on you! Yet, loved standing along the road along with other neighbours and few street dogs, watch the men throw the crackers as if they went spinning the cricket ball like Kumble or if they just planned to bomb the neighbourhood, light a rocket and flee as if for life. It was little of pest control too in our mosquito filled native. I miss all these fun!

Now, to calculate why  crack the C called CONFUSION. The confusion of human ego as to banning fireworks for Deepawali that forms part of culture, and carelessness of environmental regulations. Dear oh, it's our festival, it's our culture. Light oil lamps, don't save on oil. Burst a few crackers not someone's ears or foot! Forget the weighing machine and hog on all those delicacies, sweets  and savories.

Let's not get into figures, but the fact that fireworks and crackers form beautiful part of festive celebrations. The illuminations with lamps and fireworks hold significance to victory of good over evil, indications of the joy of people on earth.
Be it Deepawali or Christmas. With the pollution standards to be regulated by government, over different kinds and sources of pollution, we ought to take oath to point the government on environmental regulation standards for which we need not compromise on celebrating 2 days festival in the entire 365!
It's become a fashion liberal trend to say absolute NO to crackers.  Pollution is the heroic reason. Why not, We mighty people have buckled up for a race. Who spends more on crackers? We human race are into big time race everywhere. Heard that children find fantasy in flaunting how many thousands they have spent on crackers. Less said the better. Beautiful confusion of ego with pollution for an No to crackers.

As for some, the very concern on why child labour encouraged in making the crackers in India. Even if it were true, at the least, that's damn not a reason to not enjoy your beautiful culture of spreading smiles through some crackers apart from sweets and love. Spare a thought to the Indian women labour involved in the making. Their long hours of labour is their bread and few hours of your fun. In fact it's more of women empowerment here.

Craving for attention, now  big boards go in hands of cute child. The board will say "I have asthma, Say No to crackers". Dear oh, please bomb your fireworks in decently open ground and not across your neighbour's window sill. And the same child will next year be acknowledging a "thank you - loved the fire works".

The cities where normal people have to jostle and jump to reach their respective offices on time each morning, are stuck with the more pollution in air already. But finally puffing and panting, they relax for Deepawali spreading eternal peace and want to say no crackers please. Dear oh, get on and  enjoy the sparklers for an hour in the entire 365. It will brighten up the child's face. We brave hearts, have gathered the absolute courage to lift the boards for most Hindu festivals on complete banning of all the festive mood. Now we need to gather that extra courage to amend them to saying "control your limits on the air and sound pollution" You draw your line. The already polluted laws and regulations along with air is apparently a burden on government, as my 'no crackers" is not going to suddenly clean the air. Also gather that extra courage to save such boards every festive season. Christmas fireworks, and the quagmires reeking animal blood  in public places during Eid. Pollution again! And also shove some boards onto the doors of the activists when animals are abducted to be savoured for festivals.

These small gesture we make will make us love law. When Deepawali is round the corner, do get busy lighting those beautiful mud lamps with oil and wick. Lord Rama was welcomed this way and even if we wish to decorate our houses with big coloured electrical lights, it is spread smiles and love not a ball of envious fire onto your neighbour's stomach that he rushes to nearest shop to get a heavier and bigger lighting. Say no to ego not celebrations.  Dear oh, crack the puzzle. It's inside us. Burst it out with loudest noise, and those fireworks with least.

Mind it, little fun is eligibility alright! But when a friend had to relocate her child every Diwali to a different location, she had to actually beat the doors of those around who flaunting tons of crackers burst at their doorstep. Pinch his ear and tell the neighbour, "It's festival darling. Spread peace and love, by drawing your line and not migraine by almost bombing the place with  cheap Chinese crackers. Because the mighty city Indians might soon as well end up preaching "No to Agarbatthis-they spread air pollution". Culture and traditions have to be experienced in their right dosage and loved it that way.
  
Le's end the "Confusion" not the "Crackers!! Let's save the Hindu culture and kill the ego not traditions.

Thoughts  have been churned in here with essence of logic, culture and a right message in festive spirits. With the extra bit of intellectual ideologies, remember to say No to all those extra bits during all festivals.

Giving it a personalized touch with my words and my preparations.










In fact, am going to expect 56 inch chest PM of India who has just vaccinated India off corruption and has intensified the process of country's progress, to in future add the feather on cap called "Disney India" where lots of fireworks be held and the same people you see here holding big boards will buy tickets to watch the fireworks.

For those who understand my plight of being bloody Indian in writing this-cheers.
For those who are still confused- do refresh yourself and come back for cheers!
Because I have this bad habit of writing and writing what is right and what I know is right.

Monday, October 20, 2014

You Specky

For most parents including me, it's such a glorious deed to persistently run a homework as to what is good and what could be bad to your child. I was, at one point such an hyper, who had to even peep right inside the diaper if a ant had wriggled in, troubling my baby. I would wash an unpeeled orange over and over  till someone laughed at me, before beginning to squeeze juice out of it for my child. But it does not end there. If I was over doing it is your idea, no, you get a wrong message. At least when it came to her food and immunity.

With both we parents gifted with short sight and having to wear spectacles, I forever ran my homework as to how I shall strengthen my child's retinal nerves, apart from eating carrots. Reminds me of my three year old back from play school told me -"Ms Kitty says carrots are good for eyes, but please give me two of them, as I have two eyes na". It was during those days, that I hogged on lots of study on herbal medication. From age 3, I kept an eye on her eye, so she did not have to design her eyes with spectacles like me. What an day! One day finally at age 5 came her complaints of aching head and mistakes in reading from a distance. My horror knew no bounds. What I was not waiting for, almost happened? I rushed to the eye doctor and alas, she declared  "astigmatism". So, we returned home with her heavy eyes! A white framed spectacles that she kept punching every minute in frustration. After flushing out loads of cajoles and wheedles and loving talks that she finally enjoyed her spectacles. But the "specky me of the high school haunted me. My past would walk past my thoughts!

"It was from my high school days, that I fantasized the idea of wearing glasses. And god granted me short sight right when I wanted. Then had begun my ever lasting craze of designing my eyes with different frames, not bothering what frame my overall size fitted into. Graduating onto contact lenses slowly I was still living happily even when the popular serial "Jassi Jaisi koi nahi" was flashed on TV screen. This just boosted my confidence.  I had never bothered to negate my feeling, just over few friends calling me a specky. You see it was my dream to design my eyes.
And then soon reality dawned on me. In the shower, during travels and so on, what an nuisance my eye designer was. Less said is better!"
After few dreams haunting me, I decided to do plunge onto to my home work mode again. With Ayurveda doctors in my family, I kept myself aloof from administering bottles of coloured syrup to my child for little fever or a bout cold/cough.  Apparently, I was beginning to understand how her antibodies worked wonders by administering only herbal products. One fine day, I rushed to my favourite Prabhu Uncle at Mangalore.  Hope he  read this post! Prabhu uncle was as usual calm, composed, and in his Amitabh Bachaan voice told me, please start treating her with "Trifala Gratha and "Chyawan Prash". I was immediately convinced with him. The gratha is a form of ghee that is to be consumed with food each night. And the Chyawan Prash to be consumed every evening with milk. Prabhu Uncle's results were out after 2 years. It was like a miracle, that my child's eye designer could be abandoned. Astigmatism went for toss. The Gratha and Chyawan Prash did it's job. The antioxidants and other herbs presence in it  gets  the product it's high value and protecting power. With doctors in my family, during their study of medicine, we often called them names like guggulu, haritaki or guduchi out of mad humour. And the names sank in so well in our minds and the herbs in our immune system!
  
Though, the practice of consuming the same did not stop there but continues till date. And, come challenge me, she hardly falls sick. Her immune system auto corrects her. Today, a day's cold and I tell her, eat your ice cream tomorrow. Medicine is a rare member in her room. Years ago, if she licked her mud filled hands in play pen my laugh worried other mothers and at times I told them- "all this makes her more strong".
Image source: Personal

It's not any magic. Or if it is there's nothing but the "Chyawan Prash" and no "abra ka dabra". My kitchen counter proudly flaunts a bottle of Chyawan Prash and other stuff forever. The eternal love of it and my child saves me from doing vigorous homework on how to protect her always. Her extra jumps in the swimming pool cant worry me of her catching cold, or her extra classes of badminton cant worry me of her strained calf muscles. As long as Chyawan Prash is protecting her.
The entire episode began with my issues of my eye designer, and ended with completely building my child's immune system with the fantastic Chyawan Prash.
A healthy child, makes a healthy home. Indeed.

Going Gets Going


Sunday, June 15, 2014

My Pal - Manipal

Picture Courtesy : Click here
You ought to savour  this extra dosage of "Manipal" from my every cell of memoir. Evidently, a very  wink before a sleep, connects my nerve cells to those photographic memory of a Manipal street that brought me up for years. Unending noise on that street seemed music to ears, an unpleasant odour, specially the open road side fish market was part of the routine. A typical scenario of the late 90's. A stretch of a kilo metre that exclusively presented odours of the- hospital stuff, masala dosa, fish curry, or the dust swayed by zooming local buses. 
 
A Bus and a bus stop:- Roads, full of bikes, autos and those road runner busses. A shrill whistle  by that nasty bus conductor as the bus pulled off the station happened every other second. The bus-stops predominantly share a intricate history, meant for the  stray dogs and cows for gods sake. "Who would ever wait in there?" was the fashion. What a shame it was if guys scattered not on road for a bus but in the bus stop! Few groups/pairs of people seen assembled around the place as if, for a champagne party, were true signs they actually waited for a bus. Velocity of an approaching bus, could often confuse one about the timings and placing of its halt. Vivid types of, sized and coloured buses decorated the local town. The typical Madhuri Dixit in Yash Chopra films running through greens with hands wide open is precisely the style how conductor wafts out of the bus...singing his plastic whistle. At times an silent audience can note gravity observations, if the bus almost collapsed on one side of it, or was just ready to take off in the sky. Buses zooming on the street at super sonic speed and few careless walkers at lesser than the "2G" speed confused each other of their destiny. An mindlessly walking pedestrian would thoroughly be threatened by the  noisily zooming bus, to run over him!
 
Healthy street is what you must call it...At very step you find either a pharmacy store or a restaurant. Occasionally  a supermarket showed a presence promising you of domestic needs too. Manipal Drug House, Manipal Stores, Manipal Canteen, that's how all these were named. An newly opened Manipal Studio or Manipal supermarket adds on. If this sounds so synchronous to you, for me it adds an touch of home.

Main street of Manipal bubbled more with young generation. The stretch between the medical college and the engineering college collided with young students. One side saw multi coloured jeans and T's other side came less coloured, hair well done one with white coats on! The ones with heavy  books in their arms and  were those with white coats and, the other side matched them loaded with big wooden rectangular boards (used for engineering drawing) or monstrous sized measuring scales tucked under their arms.  The scanty population in the crowd were often the uncles and aunts. A few were either teachers or some of them managing the banks there. Manipal streets did not commonly see families walking together except for temple, park or residential colonial area. The major crowd that filled the streets almost 24X7 were the whole set of people/patients of all ages, visiting the main hospital. People from the neighbouring states poured in, paying religious visits here, owing to the technology that popularised the Manipal hospital.
 
Reminds me of my grandfather tales. As he was engrossed in priestly activities in a temple few kilo metres away from Manipal town, how his friend in his "Munna Bhai MBBS" outfit, with his rifle, actually hunted tigers in the jungles of Manipal in "his" times. Perhaps in the 60's is what we are talking of or little before that too. And the popular "Tiger Circle" was that area christened so with it's history of finding the tigers commonly. Our present scene of the 90's often saw hyena's, foxes or wild monkeys from the leftover existent bunch of trees.

My words building that image formation in your mind apparently, is what precisely am trying to narrate. That busy Manipal street, that my eyes saw in my growing years, has grown too now and changed in shape and looks. But I bet, someone tell me those buses have mended their ways or used the bus stations at least once a day! Now it hardly means the buses are not a great experience. They are a part of best adventures for one, in Manipal. A good pal that promise your every visit around the town on or before time!
 
Every visit to this place today, loads these scenes onto my memory though my eyes view the newer scenes of newer Manipal. My pal.
 

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

Name Game - It's All In A Name - From The "Shy Girl Of Manipal"

That book you write,
not read.
That road, with return none,
only lead.
That lane you walk,
not run.
Life with pain,
still is fun.
Life with no name,
Sounds dull & lame.
Fancy naming a new born after a popular Bollywood or Hollywood star? Please do so. What's in a name? Bang onto "What's not in a name?". Remember you might hit a jackpot sometime when bizarre airways offer concessions to selected popular Bollywood character names. Recently the Virgin Atlantic Airways that threw away exciting offers to "filmi named" people. Behold- now say what's in a name? Whether of much use or not, I did muse upon the options on, what if I was named after some "Simran- sanorita"; the popular "pooja beti" the Yash Chopra's Madhuri Dixit; Priya or the bubbly Rani Mukharjee as Tina in Kuch Kuch Hota Hai.
Aargh, well I love my name. not the airlines!
There was a time, my introduction would compulsorily include "shy girl from Manipal!". If that meant a coyish girl, please don't be duped at all. Yes, I did be a lot much pessimistic in  communication and outspoken category. In parallel, there was the big mischief soul inside me that has attempted simpler tricks to horrendous college pranks. To the extent of ragging a senior graduate fellow in university.
Absolutely remember mother often tell me the n number of choices they considered when a fifteen days old "ME" was named. "Sushma", with literal meaning being beauty, perhaps they saw beauty of life in me. I wasn't technically named after any ancestors. But existence of many "Suhmas" in that era, marked a trendy name.
Identity apart, every single person to whom you mean calls you "a name". They symbolize affection. Hence for the past years I must have had numerous names from family, friends and so on. Either the nickname, sometimes a 2nd name, at times an abbreviation of full name. Sometimes a roller coaster of it like "Sushuuuum, suhumaaaa..so on". At times shortened, at times sweetened, at times tasty like "Sushi". The proper noun that I have accepted and adored. All through life as I was brought up almost caned to understand, the beauty was not in the physical appearance, and that perhaps inspired me to see the "beauty" in absolutely everything around me to every action of mine. Even in a few naughty teenage tricks I tried, I found a beauty called fun. If my little girl today calls me "hey your teeth are paint box" for the different enamel colour each has developed over the years, I don't mind. Find it creative. Big joys in small things. Those peppy nicknames that turn out to be relevant identity that ages later an college mate can not recognise you on facebook but marks that nick name as the verification code. Authorised for friendship, call it!

If familiarity to Indian culture strikes to you all or not, we Indians, specially South Indian Brahmins do have a ritual of changing names after marriage. The first name too! With changing world, which is losing its acceptance, yet the tradition was fun. You adapt yourself to your in laws and also change your name. Identity challenged!

"Only Love"- let me declare it so, the noun that identifies you, the name by which you are recognised . While there's a literal sense of "what's in a name", my love for my name is unique. It's the perfect love compatibility match. There is no "rename" option in real life for me. Apparently perceptions of name and identity have some perpetual thoughts beyond the "noun" factor. The identity tag that finds its best love match with the personality. Brought up in "Manipal", I love the place and the name. There's no rename option for it too! I would hate it.

An exotic illustrations of the name game can be hilarious.
How about the "bhagwan ke naam pe de do baba".  Popular slogan meant for unfortunate beggars, with the mention of "in the name of God". Times when the names turn into those of Bollywood stars are heard of too. You see, it's all in the name!
I was taken by surprise when my daughter at her age 5 had declared "Jui" is a childish name. She must change it as she grows up into some adult type! With occasional breaking burps in middle of a dinner I had to answer her, "adult type are not so popular"! Just the trend matters. She is now convinced as she reaches her teens. Take an instance if I had chosen to call my new born "Mukesh" "Aamir"! Or perhaps giving up to "adult types" changed her names to "Kiran (after Bedi)"' or "Kalpana (after Chawla)", what was the probability of the fun in matching the gravity in those names to your whims and choices? When a chord strikes between my name and "Sushma Swaraj" of Indian politics, I ....errr...let me sign off friends. It's Sushma from Manipal and that's how I love my identity tag to be fixed up forever.
Links used:- http://articles.economictimes.indiatimes.com/2014-03-20/news/48401922_1_virgin-atlantic-air-tickets-discounted-tickets

This post is also linked in following blogs:
www.manipalblog.com
http://abcwednesday-mrsnesbitt.blogspot.com/