Damsel in Distress

A few days back, I was leaving my office late in the evening at around 9.45 PM. I was crossing the shoppers paradise Brigade Road in Bangalore when I spotted a young European lady standing on the pavement. But she was clearly very uncomfortable.

I looked around and found three youngsters behind her. They were slightly drunk (the alcoholic fumes reached me) and were shamelessly ogling at her and making comments – they had dared to even walk up to touching distance from her.

I was already getting late to catch the last metro link to my place. I walked past. But something kept tugging me back. My conscience was screaming at me “You coward!!!! What if it was your sister, wife or niece?”

I sighed and moved back. Now I am no hulk and was definitely nowhere near being as fit as I was in my younger days. But the very sight of a man walking up to them made the youngsters step back. But they did not stop their lewd comments which were embarrassing even me.

I walked up to the lady and asked, “Excuse me, why do you need to stand here?” She replied, “My companion has gone into the ATM and I am waiting for him.” By this time, the youngsters were getting closer and I was in the danger of being manhandled. So I asked her, “Do you have your companion’s mobile number?” She replied in the affirmative. I then asked her, “Would you mind walking away with me from here? You can walk upto the junction (about 50 feet away) where a traffic policemen was certain to be there and these goons will not dare trouble you.”

For obvious reasons, she hesitated. It was at that moment, that a young man stopped his bike and got down. “What is happening sir?” he asked me. I explained. He said, “If you are willing to assist me, I would like to scare the daylights out of these chaps. They do not understand any other language.”

At another time (when I was in my 20s and even 30s) I would have flexed my karate-trained muscles and said “Lead on my man!!!”. Now I was married with a wife and two kids. Who knows what these goons would come up with? But something drove me to nod and we both proceeded towards the three goons. Seeing us advance they – like most true cowards – turned and ran. The youngster ran after them, hurling the choicest abuse in Kannada until they were nowhere in sight.

He then came back and apologised to the lady, “Sorry madam! But that is the only language they understand!” I was wondering if he was referring to the language of Kannada or the physical exhibition! He then said good night and went along.

It was at that very moment that another young foreigner came up and the lady introduced to me her companion. I said good night to them and went along.

I missed my train that night. But was happy because my conscience patted me on my back and told me that I had done the right thing. And during the long walk to the torture chamber (auto), I prayed repeatedly to God that someday, our women feel safe and our men not act as louts.

And yes, if Aamir Khan would read this blog of mine, you may see me on his TV show sometime!

 

 

What makes people happy?

Every morning, the whistle puts our maid into a tizzy. The instant she hears it, she rushes into rooms, emptying dustbins and putting the collected trash outside the gate. And soon enough, the wagon arrives. Sometimes it is the wife sometimes it is the husband. One or the other pulls it along, whistling to let people know that the trash collector has arrived.

Being a trash collector ranks as one of the most uninteresting and disgusting profession to most of us. I must admit I always thought these people must be the most disgusted and irritable folks. Seeing this couple and their two tiny children together made me wonder.

The couple is evidently very happy being together. Whenever I see them at the wagon, they are busy working and sharing a light moment together – laughing or just discussing. I wonder when I remember even seeing a frown or worry on their brows.

The elder of their kids – she must be around 5 years – wraps her younger brother (who must be just about a year old) – in a blanket and puts him to sleep on the pavement of the nearest street where their parents are picking up trash. She is always seen either singing to him happily or patting him to sleep. Once a while, when the pangs of hunger are too much to control, she gently asks a colony resident passing by if they can spare her two biscuits.And when the tiny brother of her’s starts to bawl, she shouts for her mother to come and feed him.

Sometimes I get lump in my throat when I see the kids on the pavement or asking me for a biscuit to eat. How I wish they could see better days! But then, I see them all as one family and I want to ask myself – what can I do to people who are evidently quite happy with what they have? They have never begged or even asked for extra money for the work done or when festivals approach. The kids too never intrude into the houses demanding anything. They just patiently sit on the pavement for their parents to turn up.

And after all the work is done, the entire family of four walks to the dump outside the colony, throws everything into the dump and then settle down among the dirt to eat their meal together. And invariably, they are laughing and enjoying being with each other.

So little by way of possessions in life. And yet so much by way of happiness for living a life!

 

What are Friends for…

Have been wanting to blog about this experience for sometime now. Finally found the time.

Last week – around the 11th of June, some of my dearest friends from my University days came over to Hyderabad. Another close friend, S, was hosting them and their families in his house. He invited me over for dinner so we could all spend some time together, recollecting and pondering.

My twins generally go to sleep by 7.30 PM. Most parents know what happens when the child is awake well past the sleeping time. Moreover, I was still unable to drive long distances, thanks to the surgery on my right knee. These two reasons were making me hesitate taking up the long journey – at least 20 km one way.

“No problem. We will come over and drive you. You just get ready with your wife and kids. There are enough people here to hold your twins.  And we will also drive you back home. So don’t worry, ” they said.

And so, they drove all the way to my house, picked us up, and drove back to their house.  Everything was fine. But my ten month old twins did not adapt to the new place and new people. They were edgy and irritable. My friends and their wives and even little children did their best – but the twins were just not ready to quieten down. Finally, when both started to bawl uncontrollably, my wife and I both cut short our dinner, bid hurried goodbyes and made ready to leave.

My friends immediately got in, having remembered their promise to drive us back. But the night had not yet ended for us. Somewhere near our house, at the highly busy JNTU junction, I first noticed that despite the AC being on, the windshield was fogging. D, who was driving, checked and found that the AC was not functioning. It was at this juncture that my wife noticed smoke billowing from under the engine hood. D at once stopped the car and shouted at all of us to get out.

I grabbed one kid while my wife grabbed the other. None of the motorists had patience for us – they honked away, scaring the kids no end and making them start crying again. D helped us to the road divider. Meanwhile, I rang up S and N, who had gone ahead in their own car. They turned back and I told them to take my wife and kids home while I stayed with my car to call for assistance.

D would not even hear about it. He managed to take the car across the heavy traffic to the side. S and N returned and bundled me into their car along with my family. S drove me home while N and D stayed with the car. It was 10.30 PM – but they forced me to leave. N checked out the engine, tinkered with it and soon got it limping to my house at 11.00 PM.

They then left – to drive all the way back 20 km, only after ensuring that we were all safe at home.

My interaction with all of them began during my student days at Sri Sathya Sai University. It has only grown stronger since then. Someone rightly said that good and true friends are rare. They need to be treasured. D, S and N showed me why.

 

Baby Matters

The other day, I went into the Medplus store at Kondapur to pick up baby soaps for my twins. A young lady walked in behind me. Since I was waiting for my soaps, I could not but help overhear the conversation.

The young lady first wanted some Cerelac. “What flavour?” asked the clerk.

“Ummmmmm…. I don’t know. Which one is good?” she asked.

The store clerk took out a flavour with rice, wheat and fruits mixed and gave it to her.

“Can I have Nan powder?” was her next request. “Which number do you want?” asked the clerk.

“Oops! I don’t know. Anyway, I need a feeding bottle as well.” she said.

“Which size? 90 ml, 125 ml or 250 ml?” asked the clerk.

The poor lady was looking quite flustered by now and I decided to step in.

“Excuse me, how old is the baby?” I asked.

She looked up startled and said, “Oh, one year 3 months.”

I then told her “Please take Cerelac rice flavour and Nan formula number 3. Also, you should take a 250 ml feeding bottle for your baby.”

She looked me over carefully and with a smile said, “Thank you. Are you a doctor?”

I too smiled back and said, “No. But I have twin boys aged 9 months.”

She burst out laughing and said, “Oh, that makes you highly qualified to advice on these matters. I am purchasing these for my sister and was hence lost for those details.”

We then went out of the store on our way home. There were some cute babies waiting to be cuddled back home!

 

A spoof on being spooked…

Last night was one of those when my elder twin refused to sleep. The poor kid had an upset stomach and was in some kind of distress.  I decided to try out my weapon supreme in such situations – my car keys. Like many beleaguered parents would attest, a car ride is the ultimate when it comes to pacifying bawling babies and putting them to gentle sleep.

My wife took out the baby wrap, with the baby inside, took his feed bottle and we were off. As I made circumambulations around the park in our huge township at about 1.00 AM in the night, the little kid slowly drifted into blissful sleep. It was somewhere around the third round that I noticed the car headlights behind us. I admit I was quite sleepy, but I was sure that the headlights had been on my rear view mirror for quite some time before I noticed it. I slowed the car, and found that the other car also was progressing slowly.

I turned the car around the corner of the park – the other car did the same. I stopped the car at the end of the turn and was more or less unimpressed when the other car stopped as well. I took off again and after completing a round, found that the car had moved a bit forward, but was still stopped. One more round later and – hey presto! The headlights of the car were again back in my rear view mirror, slowly keeping pace with us, but still maintaining a discrete distance.

I was beginning to get worried. Who was following us at this time of the night? Why was the car slowly going around the park and following us? Throwing caution to the wind, I decided confrontation was the only mode to follow. I sped off, finished my rotation around the park rapidly and appeared behind the other car, which was stopped. Getting down from my car, I walked up to them and ……

The young couple inside were every shade as sleepy as my wife and I. The tiny blanket-wrapped baby in the lady’s lap was in a blissful sleep. The husband looked up at me with a surprised glance as I appeared near his window. If there was one moment in which I felt a sense of camaraderie as well as embarrassment in the same fleeting moment, it was this.

I hurriedly apologised and explained why I had made such an unexpected appearance at their car window. They were both civil enough to laugh aloud and came over to look at our own elder twin, floating on the mists of dreams in his sleep.

At that rather unearthly hour, two tiny babies made me aware about the common bouts of problems parents face. But then, are not most of the problems faced by us the same all over? And yet, we feel we are unique in our suffering and jump to conclusions about the intentions of the others.

 

The Unexpected joys of Fatherhood

There are few occasions designed to bring bewilderment of the highest order into men. Fatherhood is perhaps right up there at the top. Normally confident and clinical, most men are a total loss when it comes to dealing with fatherhood in the initial stages. I was no exception.

My puzzlement began with adapting to my changed status itself, much to the amusement of all my loved family members. I still remember the moment, albeit with a shade of pink on my cheek. At 3.45 PM on July 7th 2010, the doctor announced that I was the proud father of twin sons. My parents, sisters, brothers-in-law and cousins all thumped my back and pumped my hand in joy – I was totally blank. I mean, I did not know what to do or say. Sounds familiar to some of you?

As we all lined up at the Neo-natal ICU, the doctor came out with an ultra-tiny bundle and announced, “Who is the father of the baby?” I happily looked around for the person, while everyone else stared back at me. The fact that I was the VIP in question did not even register on me.   My elder sister hissed from behind, “Go, they are calling you.” I staggered forward and took my elder twin into my hands to admire him. He stared back at me with beady eyes. Was he accusing me, “how dare you forget?”  Soon, my younger twin was placed in my hands too. Mercifully, he was fast asleep. This confusion at my changed status perhaps aptly sums up my plight in the days to follow.

Soon, more such incidents followed. Babies bawling in the night and me wondering whose they were, until my wife literally kicked me out of bed to help (this treatment was required only for the first couple of days – I rapidly adapted thereafter), feeding the baby, trying to change the nappy, the usual. Motherhood has its advantage. My wife took to her role rapidly and effortlessly. I am sorry to say I took (inappreciably) longer.

But perhaps the most frustrating moment was when it came to comforting a bawling baby. I was at a total loss. My mother and wife on the other hand looked like trained experts from day one. While they successfully put crying babies to sleep in miraculously short time, I almost always succeeded in getting a sleeping baby to wake up bawling with my efforts.

Among these unexpected turns in life though, the best is the JOY of fatherhood. I would never be able to get the treasured moments of seeing our babies grin and laugh when they see me, or play with me, or cuddle up in the night into my arms to sleep peacefully,  playfully hold my face in their tiny hands  and so many other antics, for anything else in life.

Unexpected? Who cares? The Joy is definitely worth millions of it!

 

2010 in review

The stats helper monkeys at WordPress.com mulled over how this blog did in 2010, and here’s a high level summary of its overall blog health:

The Blog-Health-o-Meter™ reads Fresher than ever.

Crunchy numbers

A Boeing 747-400 passenger jet can hold 416 passengers. This blog was viewed about 3,000 times in 2010. That’s about 7 full 747s.

 

In 2010, there were 8 new posts, growing the total archive of this blog to 41 posts. There were 6 pictures uploaded, taking up a total of 275kb.

The busiest day of the year was August 20th with 89 views. The most popular post that day was All roads lead to nowhere; unless….

Where did they come from?

The top referring sites in 2010 were facebook.com, orkut.co.in, orkut.com, google.co.in, and linkedin.com.

Some visitors came searching, mostly for keesaragutta, keesaragutta temple, progeria, kesari gutta, and keesara gutta.

Attractions in 2010

These are the posts and pages that got the most views in 2010.

1

All roads lead to nowhere; unless… August 2010
7 comments and 1 Like on WordPress.com,

2

Keesaragutta – the temple of ten million lingams May 2009
4 comments

3

About My Blog August 2008
8 comments

4

Isaac Asimov’s take on Intelligence. May 2010
6 comments

5

Ravaging the Innocent… January 2010
3 comments

 

All roads lead to nowhere; unless…

On Tuesday the 17th of August, we had to rush  my  38 day elder twin to the Rainbow Hospitals at Banjara Hills, Hyderabad. Since it was an emergency visit, we had to wait from 3.30 PM for the consultant pediatrician to come and see our baby.  Since our kid was just out of hospitalization there for contracting the dreaded Rota Virus, the doctor did not want to take any chances and prescribed some tests. By the time we were done, it was 7.30 PM and we set out for home, amidst some real heavy downpour.

Even if there is a trace of rain in the city of Hyderabad, the civic services goes into a tizzy, battling breakdowns etc, usually for problems that are repeated and are never bothered about. Today, as we found out later, the city recorded 8 cm in less than 2 hours. The traffic lights were out. Roads were clogged and blocked. Vehicles had no clue as to which direction to go. Power was cut at several locations.

The roads were blocked for miles. Drains were overflowing and blocking roads. Diversions were making life miserable for motorists. I took the Whisper valley,  Toli Chowki road to avoid the Hi-Tech city road. My elder sister, who had my elder twin and my wife in her car, was not so lucky. She got stuck proper and to compound our woes, water entered her car and she stalled in the middle of the busy Madhapur-Hi tech city road. Her husband was far ahead of her, stuck in the traffic about 5 km ahead. I was stuck in the same traffic about 7 km behind.

All of us were tensed for the small baby, who has already spent 7 hours outside his bed. By the time I could arrange for a mechanic and reach them, the rain had thankfully subsided. But the traffic snarl was far from over. It appeared that everyone was going nowhere.

Finally, when we reached home, it was 11.30 in the night. What should have taken us 45 minutes, had taken a clean 3 hours. Mercifully, our sick baby slept all through, except for brief moments of crying in between.

On 19th of August, we were taking my elder twin to the hospital for a follow up. This time, though there was no rain, traffic was still moving at a snail’s pace. At Image Hopsitals at Madhapur, all traffic was stopped for close to half and hour – over and above the hold up which we had come through.

As we fretted and fumed and the baby bawled, the convoy of our respected President of India, along with the delegates of the International Congress of Mathematics in Air conditioned bus, zoomed at terrific speeds, past citizens who could do nothing, but helplessly wait and add to their hours of penance for traffic to move on. We reached the hospital a good two hours behind our appointment time.

I have nothing against VIPs being given unhindered passage for security and other reasons. But I certainly object to public figures shamelessly milking the common man’s money to enjoy while the common man is faced the same problems day after day, year after year.

The roads that I mentioned above are all heavy density traffic roads. Yet, they are in pitiable condition with several potholes.  Come rain, water logging is very common every time. Every day, thousands of motorists uses the roads to reach their work places, causing huge pile ups. Even if the relative humidity in the air is on the higher side, hinting rain, the electricity goes off. And yet, the government has not even got down to planning options.

For example, why is the flyover at Hi-tech city taking so long to be completed? Why has not a single alternate major road been planned? Why are the potholes repeatedly appearing? Who is using the public money that is being paid at taxes? I certainly object to our netas enjoying at our expense.

I wonder if the CM, his ministers and our visiting netas would care to stay in our homes for a week and suffer the power cuts? Or travel in the traffic snarls with us, with babies bawling in fright and irritation? Or get caught in an ambulance and see someone die because the traffic just cannot be cleared?

I may be a lone voice and there is no ghost of a chance of this being read by our president ( I must admit I cursed her that day along with thousands of other waiting motorists), CM or other great ministers. I am only sharing my woes and grief of being a citizen of a country where all of us collectively seem to be working only to feed and foster our leaders, who shamelessly enjoy and prosper at our benefit.

Madam President, I do hope that by some miracle, you get to read about the enormous distress you caused us that day.

 

Isaac Asimov’s take on Intelligence.

This is a small essay on what Isaac Asimov thinks intelligence is. I got it as a forward from one of my cousins and the essay is attributed to the famous scientist and author. If there is one essay that clearly highlights the point of academic excellence not being an indicator for innate intelligence, it is this essay.

To all those students and friends who get dispirited with their inability to score good marks and who consequently think themselves to be dullards, I do hope you will read this and derive your own inspiration. No man was made to be a dullard. We are all the crown jewel of God’s creation with the best of intelligence and wisdom. It is just hidden in layers of our own fears and pre-conceived notions.

Read on…..

What Is Intelligence, Anyway?

By Isaac Asimov

What is intelligence, anyway? When I was in the army, I received the kind of aptitude test that all soldiers took and, against a normal of 100, scored 160. No one at the base had ever seen a figure like that, and for two hours they made a big fuss over me. (It didn’t mean anything. The next day I was still a buck private with KP – kitchen police – as my highest duty.)

All my life I’ve been registering scores like that, so that I have the complacent feeling that I’m highly intelligent, and I expect other people to think so too. Actually, though, don’t such scores simply mean that I am very good at answering the type of academic questions that are considered worthy of answers by people who make up the intelligence tests – people with intellectual bents similar to mine?

For instance, I had an auto-repair man once, who, on these intelligence tests, could not possibly have scored more than 80, by my estimate. I always took it for granted that I was far more intelligent than he was. Yet, when anything went wrong with my car I hastened to him with it, watched him anxiously as he explored its vitals, and listened to his pronouncements as though they were divine oracles – and he always fixed my car.

Well, then, suppose my auto-repair man devised questions for an intelligence test. Or suppose a carpenter did, or a farmer, or, indeed, almost anyone but an academician. By every one of those tests, I’d prove myself a moron, and I’d be a moron, too. In a world where I could not use my academic training and my verbal talents but had to do something intricate or hard, working with my hands, I would do poorly.

My intelligence, then, is not absolute but is a function of the society I live in and of the fact that a small subsection of that society has managed to foist itself on the rest as an arbiter of such matters.

Consider my auto-repair man, again. He had a habit of telling me jokes whenever he saw me. One time he raised his head from under the automobile hood to say: “Doc, a deaf-and-mute guy went into a hardware store to ask for some nails. He put two fingers together on the counter and made hammering motions with the other hand.

“The clerk brought him a hammer. He shook his head and pointed to the two fingers he was hammering. The clerk brought him nails. He picked out the sizes he wanted, and left. Well, doc, the next guy who came in was a blind man. He wanted scissors. How do you suppose he asked for them?”

Indulgently, I lifted by right hand and made scissoring motions with my first two fingers. Whereupon my auto-repair man laughed raucously and said, “Why, you dumb jerk, He used his voice and asked for them.”

Then he said smugly, “I’ve been trying that on all my customers today.” “Did you catch many?” I asked. “Quite a few,” he said, “but I knew for sure I’d catch you.” “Why is that?” I asked. “Because you’re so god damned educated, doc, I knew you couldn’t be very smart.”

 

Strike-Out…

It is with a deep sense of sadness that I read the news article about the Private Engineering colleges deciding to go on strike from May 26th. But then, something like this was very much on the cards. The Government of Andhra Pradesh has painted itself into a corner and has itself to blame for the sorry state of affairs. I am specifically referring to its inability to release the funds it owes the private engineering colleges since August 2009.

It was with a great deal of fanfare that the Government announced that it would pay for the engineering and pharmacy seats of all students who came from families with annual income less than Rs. 1 lakh per annum. While the scheme smacks of some juvenile wisdom and hackneyed foresight, it had the desired political outcome. The problem started when the promise had to be kept. The state governments coffers were already depleted with several other populist schemes. There was just no money left. And so the fees could not be payed to the colleges and to date, it owed them close to Rs. 1200 crores.

Several private colleges reeled under the financial burden, unable to pay their faculty salaries for months at end. Developmental programs and expansion programs for colleges had to be put on hold due to paucity of funds. The management had to dig deep into their resources to even meet the daily running expenses and several of their faculty were either threatening to go on strike or were already on strike. It is true that the management of several colleges openly make it obvious that they are in the business only for the money. But a vast majority also intended to give quality education in return and they were indeed hard hit when the government could not reimburse the fees.

To the last information, the government has initiated talks with the owners by asking the chairman of APSCHE Prof. K.C. Reddy to talk on its behalf. But the government has already announced that it would not be able to release the entire payment while the owners have countered by saying they will settle for nothing but the whole amount.

Caught in between are the students. The practical exams and end-semester exams commence from May 27th. So the timing of strike was definitely not arbitrarily selected. It was timed for maximum impact. Just when the student community was beginning to get over the telangana agitations and looking forward to closing the semester without further obstacles surfacing, this new threat has loomed.

I would squarely blame the government for any negative outcome of this move. It is time hare brained politicians stopped frequently shooting their mouths off and then exhibiting their familiar foot-in-the-mouth tendencies with their inability to keep their promises.

If a fine could be levied on the politicians for breaking promises, I think the fund thus collected could easily sponsor the required fee reimbursement.