ठेका

"आजकल सब ठेके पे चलता है बीबीजी", जमादार ठन के बोला.

"पर पैसे तो हम तुम्हे ही देते हैं. अगर तुम छुट्टी जा रहे हो तो बदली पर कोई दूसरा सफाईवाला ला दो उतने दिनों के लिए हमें", मिन्नत करते हुए श्रीमती शुक्ला बोलीं.

"बीबीजी ये काम हमारा नहीं है", सरकारी चमचमाता नीला जाकेट पहने कंधे उचकाता बोला वह.

"फिर किसका है ये काम"?

लम्बी सीख की झाड़ू सड़क पर फेरते हुए चुस्त सफाईवाला बिना बीबीजी की ओर देखे कहने लगा, "ठेकेदार का काम है बदली का आदमी देना. इतनी चिंता काहे करती हैं बहनजी, सड़क पर तीन दिन नहीं लगेगा झाड़ू तो कौन महामारी फ़ैल जायेगी".

गर्मियों का मौसम. कालोनी भर के बच्चे धमाचौकड़ी मचाते यहीं से तो गुज़रते थे, सामने के बागीचे में खेलने. कोई टाफी का रैपर फेंकता तो कोई चिप्स का पैकेट. कचरा जमा होने में वक़्त कहाँ लगता है. उसपर सड़क का कचरा तो लावारिस पिल्ले सा, कभी कोई रौंद दे तो कभी लात मार कर किनारे कर दे. छुट्टियों में मेहमानों की रेल-पेल अलग. दिन भर घर के सामने जमा होता कूड़े का ढेर कितना गंदा दिखेगा. यही सब सोच कर बेचारी बोल पड़ी...

"अब कहाँ ढूंढें तुम्हारे ठेकेदार को? कोई फोन नम्बर हो तो दे दो वरना ला दो किसी ओर को, दे देंगे ऊपर से पैसे जितने भी बनेंगे", सफाई पसंद श्रीमती शुक्ला दुखी मन से बोलीं. अपने परिसर को साफ़ रखने के लिए अब घूस भी देनी होगी यह सोचा ही न था उन्होंने.

इसी ताक में था शायद जमादार. झट से बोला "दिन के तीस रुपये बनेंगे. मंज़ूर है तो कहिये मैं कह जाऊंगा किसी और को".

"दिन के तीस, अरे बहुत ज्यादा हैं ये तो".

"मंज़ूर हो तो बोलिए वरना दिए देता हूँ ठेकेदार का नंबर", कचरे का पुलिंदा बांधकर ठेलागाड़ी पर फेंकता हुआ निकलने लगा वो.

उसके तेवर बीबीजी को पसंद न आए, बोलीं " दे दो नंबर".

शाम होने आई. बीबीजी नंबर घुमा घुमा कर परेशान. मुआ लगता ही न था. अजीब सी टूं टूं आवाज़ की रट लगा रखी थी बस.

"दिन के तीस रुपये तो थे, कितना अच्छा होता हाँ कर देती मैं". अब पछता रही थीं बीबीजी.

सुबह सुबह घंटी बजी. मैले से कपड़ो में एक आदमी लंबी सीखवाली झाड़ू लिए खड़ा था. साक्षात् भगवान् अवतरित हुएँ हों ऐसा आदर बीबीजी ने उन्हें दिखाया.

"सुना है आपको बदली पर सड़क की सफाई करवानी है", कान खुजाते हुए फुर्ती से सूचित किया उसने, "दिन के पचास लगेंगे".

"ओह एक दिन में बीस बढ़ गए! खैर तीन दिनों की तो बात है, रख लेते हैं. कहाँ से मिलेगा कोई और. ये आ गया है गनीमत से दरवाज़े पर, इश्वर की देन ही तो है", यह सोच कर बीबीजी झट से हाँ कर बैठी.

आज एक हफ्ता होने को आया. पुराना जमादार पता नहीं कहाँ गायब है. उन्हें अब समझ में आया क्यों बोल रहा था " मैं तीन दिन न आऊँगा". उस वक़्त लगा था कितना कर्मठ कर्मचारी है जो सिर्फ तीन दिनों की छुट्टी का भी ऐलान किये जा रहा है. ठेकेदार का नंबर लगता नहीं ओर नया कहता है दिन के पचास ही लेगा. सबकी मिली भगत है. बस पैसा खाना है सबको! बीबीजी के रूप में छांट कर अपना शिकार चुना था इन लोगों ने.

बात अब सौ-दो सौ से परे जा रही थी. एक गृहिणी का तो बजट ही बिगड़ जाता है. बीबीजी ने मजबूरन अपने पतिदेव को इस घटनाक्रम का ब्यौरा दिया तो वो बिगड़ कर बोले "बड़ी कलेक्टर बनी फिरती हों, कालोनी भर की सफाई का ठेका तुमने ले रखा है क्या?? बंद करो यह सब!"

अगले दिन से न बीबीजी ने पचास रुपये दिए, न किसी ने झाड़ू लगाया.

सड़क पर सब अपनी छाप छोड़े जा रहे थे.

remains of the day

दिखाई ही नहीं देती मैं

देखनेवाले ने आँखें ही बंद कर रखी हैं या फिर तिलस्मी चादर ओढ़ रखी है मैंने,
के दिखाई ही नहीं देती मैं.

दिखाई देती है ज़मीं और उन ज़र्रों का बनके तारे टिमटिमाना भी,
पर क्योंकर आग की लपटों में सिमटकर भी, दिखाई ही नहीं देती मैं?

क्या पड़ेगा फरक उस सुबह को, जब मैं उठूं ही नहीं
रात की गहराइयों से निकलूँ ही नहीं
मूंदी हुई आँखें खोलूं ही नहीं

मुमकिन है के दिखेगा सबकुछ,
पर कफ़न में लिपटकर भी,
दिखाई ही नहीं देती मैं

Delhi War Cemetery

Delhi War Cemetery is maintained by the Commonwealth War Graves commission. Casualties of WWII (mainly Dutch) and some from WWI lay buried here. Their 1155 graves were moved from Lucknow, Kanpur, Merut, Alahabad & Dehradun. It also has a register with a roll of honour of the 25,000 Indian soldiers who were accorded the last rites as per their religious traditions.


Some feel that maintaining them is an added expense and a case of land grabbing, especially for people who don't even belong to India. But I personally feel, a soldier is a soldier and the least they can get is a decent burial or last rites, especially if they die in a foreign land. Warriors, doctors, nurses, pilots, sailors etc. from so many countries lay interred here.


Established by Royal Charter in 1917, the Commonwealth War Graves Commission pays tribute to the 1,700,000 men and women of the Commonwealth forces who died in the two world wars. It is a non-profit-making organisation.


India's share in the expense of the whole exercise is 1.26 percent. British High Commission pays for the rest of it.


The youngest documented Indian soldier is 'Gul Muhhamed' aged only 16 yrs of age. He rests in the Kohima War Cemetery in Nagaland, among 1400 other bravehearts.


(what touched me is the way it is maintained. when I walked in, a maali asked me "Madam have you come too look around or do you have someone here from your family." when we said we were just looking around, he patiently told us everything about the cemetery and got back to his gardening.)

The Casualties

The Delhi War Cemetery

She was a nurse in the Navy

Indian soldiers who were accorded last rites according to their religion or rest at the battlefields

Rest in Peace

My dear Sherry, it has been one year since you passed on to a world where you prance around without the fear of being hounded by the likes of those who took you away from us. Jojo misses you too.

(Jojo joined Sherry in heaven on 2nd Dec 2010)

Sherry
27 Apr 2005 - 20 Oct 2009

Sherry's video http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3T5ePztSzNs

Urgent

I went to Saket Mall and picked up something I had ordered on 28/02/10. I had paid an advance and instructed them to get it ready as soon as possible.

I saw the prepaid bill while signing the receipt.
The sales clerks neat handwriting and my signature in black ink stood out. It read:

'Urgent. To be delivered in 10 days.'

I collected it after 8 months.

The Religion of Sports (true story)

A young 18 yr. old boy from Tamilnadu was training at the National Institute of Sports (now NSNIS), Patiala in Punjab. His record of 23ft. 6inches in long jump had won him an entry in the 1956 Melbourne Olympics to represent India. His joy knew no bounds. He was a long way from home and wanted to make every day count. He had also earned himself the title of being the 'Golden Boy of High Jump' by becoming the first person to cross the 6 feet mark in India.

His friend, an ace athlete, Ivan Jacob from Kerala who had already represented the country in 1948 London & 1952 Helsinki Summer Olympics was someone he looked up to with great reverence.

"Come let's go and participate in the Quadrangle Sports meet in Ceylon (now Sri Lanka) this year. It will be like a good practice session before the Olympics. You can be the first leg of the 400mtrs relay", said Ivan.

The young boy agreed.

He didn't know anyone in Ceylon, so he depended on his pen friends for accommodation. There were no flights. He reached Rameshwaram and undertook the two hour Ship journey to Talaimannar across the Palk Bay. He reached Talaimannar (Sri Lanka now) at 6:30 in the evening and without wasting any time, took the overnight train to Colombo.

He knocked on the doors of his pen friend Lalita Dharmavardane's house in Kalutara, 30 kms south of Colombo. A six feet tall man with an imposing bearing greeted him, instead of his young friend. He was Lalita's father. This was to be the young man's place of residence through the duration of the games.

High Jump was his forte. He always did a Western roll. This time he jumped high, very high....but instead of landing on his back, he landed on his knees. He landed and just could not get up. This one jump cost him his entire golden athletic career that lay ahead. He was diagnosed with Synovitis, an extensively painful condition of the knee.

The Indian team came back from Ceylon. But he had to stay put for the treatment. Homesick and totally shattered, he just wanted to get back to India at the earliest. Almost a month long medical care made it possible for him to travel home. For next one year he couldn't even think of being associated with any sport. Olympics remained a dream. It was so close, yet so far. He went to Mumbai and enrolled in Bhavan's college to study further. The only reason he chose Bhavan's college was because it was run by K.M. Munshi and it had a periodic journal that impressed him a lot. After his M.A. he joined Indian Airlines. There was no time to sit and mourn. He was the eldest of the 9 siblings. Seven boys and 2 girls. He had to get a job.

In 1962 the whole of India was taken by surprise with the Chinese aggression. The attack struck like a bolt and hit not just the borders but national pride too. Young men were asked to get enlisted and fight for the country. How could he be far behind? He joined the Indian Army, underwent training and was commissioned as an officer on 5th October 1963. His spate of bad luck didn't leave him there. He was soon diagnosed with jaundice & diabetes which stalled all his future promotions and he retired as a Major. This is how Major Sripathi Rao Beedu became a part of the Indian defense forces.

I met him last year in Coimbatore where he lives with his wife. My husband was one of the doctors treating him during his battle with gangrene and the subsequent amputation of his right leg. An Armyman to the core, this veteran swears by Defense hospitals and will not get admitted in any (despite available reimbursements) but a Military one.

When we got posted out of Coimbatore to Delhi, Maj Beedu said, "I will be coming to Delhi to see the Commonwealth Games next year". We assumed it to be his way of telling us that he wished to keep in touch. We knew he'd be here but we didn't know how and when. We hardly knew anything about him, but for the fact that his wife was a professor and two sons were doing extremely well.

He called us a week back. He is here to see the 2010 Commonwealth Games. He meant it! He was here to see all the games, not missing any session! We thought he had 'connections' and must be having passes. We asked him if he knew somebody on the committee. He said "No". We asked if someone he knew was a part of any team? He said "No, I told you I am coming to see the Games, so here I am".

He had checked himself into a small hotel in Karol Bagh and also hired a car for the duration of his stay. He doesn't like depending on anyone. He wanted to meet us for dinner. He came home the night before last. He told us the above story of his life, over rice-stew and payasam.

"Little more Payasam", I asked.
"I like it very much Madam but thank you, I am full", said he.

He is not interested in the opening or closing ceremony but has bought tickets for the rest of the days and games. Rs. 750/- for the morning sessions and Rs. 1000/- for the evening ones. He goes everyday, all by himself and watches as many matches, athletic competitions etc. as he can. Bracing an artificial limb, he walks with the help of a walking stick and has enthusiasm levels of a child. His views on the Organising Comittie and Mr. Kalmadi are just like so many of us but that has not stopped him from enjoying the games. He looks all around, asks about everything, discusses sports and never tires of telling us how beautiful life is. Dismal athletics performance by Indian athletes saddens him a bit but he is a hopeful man. He is headed back to Coimbatore on the 12th. Promises to stay with us the next time he comes to Delhi, in February,

Now his only big wish is to attend the 2012 London Olympics. He confessed excitedly, "My wife and son are sponsoring me and I when I get back to Coimbatore, I will start saving for it from my pension too!"

(Extremely thankful to him for sharing this inspiring story of his life with us and allowing us to share it with our friends and others. We wish him all the very best.)

Maj. Beedu & his doctor

Major Beedu

       

Pot of Gold

Every once in a while you come across a colleague or a relative who is only too happy to share with you their latest acquisition. Maybe a piece of land, a fancy car, a three bedroom flat in the suburbs of a metro or some cool shares they picked up when the market had crashed. They don’t stop there. They insist on telling you how their purchase has a good resale value and the assets will double and treble in times to come.

You are happy for them but something stings you deep inside.

No it’s not jealousy.

It is the ticker time bomb waiting to explode and tell you in a million ways how you have got left behind in the race. You give in and let it blur your vision for a while. You gulp down a double dose of self pity and curse yourself for not having been worldly wise. It is true, you need a house of your own and money in your bank when you are old. You earn well, are well read and evolved. Yet you feel like a loser. 

Where exactly did you falter?
I have no answer to that.

The only thing I can think of is that everyone’s ‘pot of gold’ is different. For some it is land. For some fancy cars. Bank balance. Great vacations. Family time. Research on their absurd idea. A film about nomads of a distant island. Saving a life. Making beautiful clothes. Discovering a new species. Winning a lemon & spoon race. Getting into a prestigious college.

Different people have different notions of what they treasure and will render their lives successful or not, depending on these achievements. (Might sound like a poor man’s escape route but it does seem true). These yardsticks may change as we grow older or remain the same but they are what we will trade our possessions for.

Mine is collecting experiences. New, old, boring, bold, reckless, painstakingly laborious, nextdoor, halfway across the globe....any kind of experience that brings me closer to basic human behaviour and instincts is something I will take any day. That is my ‘pot of gold’. 

All I am wondering right now is, if my pot of gold is going to give me a warm house, good health and decent meals in my old age?

It surely has got me a pair of arms around my shoulders.

I think I will live.

O P Baba ki Jai

I was at Siachen Base camp in 2006. Just for a couple of days, as a visitor.

We reached the base camp in the evening. It was freezing. I had heard a lot of stories about how people fell ill due to rarefied oxygen levels in the air. Before any such thing happened, it would be good sense to explore the surroundings, we thought. There was a wall of black ice for practicing vertical hikes. We decided to check that out. How can you have black ice, it must be mixed with impurities hence called black, I thought.

We went and saw the Nubra River and next to it was the wall of black ice. Black water dripping from it. These are places of extreme inhospitable life conditions and it takes much more than just will power to survive here. Faith helps big time. There is a temple named after the soldier Om Prakash who single handedly defended his post from the enemies in late 1980s. He was sent on a patrol on the Malun Post in Bila Complex of the Northern Glacier.The Indian Army has been guarding the Siachen Glacier from atop the Saltoro ridge since April 1984 after Operation Meghdoot. The troops treat OP Baba as a senior officer and a report is presented at his shrine on induction and accomplishment of any mission. As the whole unit was called back to the headquarters while Om Prakash fought, no one really know what happened to him later on. His blessings are sought after and they say he appears in dreams forewarning the soldiers of any impending danger.

The memorial is just a few meters from the snout of the Glacier where it melts and becomes the Nubra river. Nubra valley is named after this river. Faith of the soldiers is so strong that they give up tobacco, alcohol and non-vegetarian food during their three month posting there. Not that they would feel like eating it anyway under those weather conditions but they consciously vow to do so as well.

Legends and Folklore are a part and parcel of mountain life. More difficult the terrain, more elaborate and celebrated the legends are. You will find them everywhere, may it be Ladakh or Arunachal Pradesh. Some may just want to laugh it off or some may find it to be an added expense in terms of time, energy and money but I feel whatever can buy you faith can never be measured in terms of any tangibles.

Aren't we all looking for the 'O P Baba' of our lives so that we can take that extra step when life gets harsher than we thought it to be? It takes a bit more than just our own will to survive the unforgiving environment around us. It is the faith in the unexplained and the never seen. That is the law of survival. It takes care of you until your time has come.

OP Baba Memorial Shrine

Glacier snout where Nubra river originates from

[Which one are you?]

God is in the details....so is the Devil

Being a doctor isn't easy yet my husband never gets his work home. But it was different that day. He carried back two brown packets and headed straight to the room. He said he was going to be busy for a while. I didn't want to disturb him so I closed the door behind him and let him work.

Sometime later I walked into the room and saw him surrounded with ECG strips strewn all over the bed. He said "it is taking me longer to fold them back than to check them". I offered to help so that he could do what he should be doing ie. 'check them without the added stress of neatly folding those reels of papers'. 

As I sat there holding those strips I realised why he sounded so agitated. They all had different creases. There was no uniformity in the way they were pleated originally. So every time you gathered one set of it, you had to start from scratch and try and find its initial groove. It was quite frustrating. 

It reminded me of the times I would sit on a video edit and the editor would not name the clip correctly to save time or write just the tape numbers without elaboring if it was a digi or a beta or a dv. And then during the edit, because of these small oversights, we would waste time searching for one particular visual in various bins. It was quite annoying.

Even though these are things that are quite insignificant or small in stature, there is a neat and methodical way of doing them. There is a reason why all details have to be meticulously put together. It allows you to experiment, take liberties or creative freedom for bigger things! 

Taking pride in whatever you do and doing it right is the basis of dignity of labour which has got lost somewhere between the soap box union slogans and countless strikes demanding more and more rights.

There is a rhythm one follows when one is working. Flawless and smoother the rhythm, better the output is. But when you have to keep breaking it to take care of minor things, you lose the tempo and make mistakes. Just because you 'can', does not mean you should have to do things which others should have finished and handed over to you. Likewise when you dispense your services.

We encounter this everyday. Some brazen beings blatantly blame it on the system and wash their hands off saying 'we weren't given the right inputs'. But most will try and fix it at their end and take it forward. Is there something wrong in the basic training one is receiving or have we become so used to not paying attention to detail? 

Someday someone is going to put dangerous clauses as subtitles. It is true God is in the details but so is the Devil. Hope he doesn't catch us unaware on a rainy afternoon coz we never bothered to read the fine print.

Delhi CWG 2010 - It was a wonderful opening ceremony :)

'The Tree of Knowledge' formation - Delhi CWG 2010

Highlighting the guru-shishya parampara, the tree of knowledge represented the six seasons and six traditional dance forms of India - Odissi, Mohiniyattam, Bharatnatyam, Kuchipudi, Kathak and Manipuri. We salute you Biraju maharaj ji, Raja & Radha Reddy who guided the dancers!!

'The Tree of Knowledge' Season change - Delhi CWG 2010

The six seasons of India namely - Vasant (Spring), Grishma (Summer), Varsha (Monsoon), Sharad (Autumn), Hemant (Pre-Winter), Shishir (Winter) were beautifully brought to life.This is the season change from Monsoon to Autumn. Do not miss the raindrop effects on the aerostat :)

Countdown & Aerostat release - Delhi CWG 2010

The Aerostat was the star of the ceremony, providing such a visual treat. The energy of the countdown is something one can't explain. You have to be there to feel it :)

Unveiling of the 'Mahatma Gandhi' hologram - Delhi CWG 2

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Gautam Buddha & awakening of the Kundalini - Delhi CWG 2010

The Gautam Buddha image is lit with bulbs and the hologram of the rising Kundalini (corporeal energy) from Muldhara Chakra (base of spine) to Shasrara Chakra (top of head) depicts the enlightenment he received under the Bodhi tree of knowledge.

Standing ovation for the Indian contingent - Delhi CWG 2010

Am glad that so many of our sports persons will be getting to participate in this event. A chance they will cherish and try to make the best out of.

Hum saath saath hain :)

Lessons well learnt I hope. Now it's time to cheer for our teams and others at the CWG 2010.

New & Improved*

These are two words which are not new for the advertising folks. I always laughed when any of our Clients used it for one of their brands. Every 6 to 8 months their products would go 'New & Improved' and they had a brand new reason for a new multi crore ad campaign.

One little ingredient or chemical change and they had the authority to use the tag. I always wondered how come KFC never said they had a latest recipe.Nirma never said their washing powder has these new blue coloured oxygeenated particles. No change. They all make a living out of their time tested, age old products. Older the better.

I have recently realised we the people are also divided into these two classes. Some who live off their deep rooted long standing beliefs and prefer to be just be what they have become in the natural course of life. They are firm, solid, dependable, been there all this while and less likely to vanish from your life in times of need. They live in the glory of the past and assume the world around them to be as it was then.

And some who are constantly in the quest for improvement. How they can make themselves a better person is ingrained into them. To learn new things, see new places, have newer experiences and learn from them all. These are the 'forever changing' people. Their beliefs and perspectives keep getting wider by the day, acquiring every bit of information about the world and themselves and collating them to become a better person each new day. They don't mind changing themselves if that is going to remove even one single impurity of thought of action from their life. Full of adrenalin kicks from the cosmic Brownian movements.

Both seem fine in their own right. It takes all kinds to make this world. The only problem is when an FMCG conglomerate takes over a Nirma or a KFC takes over Cup 'O' noodles. They just don't belong to each other. Or maybe they will complement and enrich each other. Who knows???

(* Some brand names have been used for reference purposes to represent what they stand for in terms of ideologies. No offence meant.)

वरदान

राज्य मिलेगा पर राजा-रानी साथ न रह पाएंगे. सोने की थाल सजेगी पर खाने को भोजन न मिलेगा. रमणीय वन-उपवन होंगे पर पैर धरने को वसुंधरा नहीं लावा होगा. मित्रगण भरपूर आएँगे पर बित्ती भर भी बात न कर पाएंगे. बेरोक टोक आवाजाही नसीब होगी पर गंतव्य पर आप का स्वागत नहीं है. पैरों में पाज़ेब पहनाये जायेंगे पर चलना दबे पाँव ही होगा. मधुर स्वर के स्वामी बनो पर गुनगुनाना मना है. सबकुछ मिलेगा पर उसके भोग पर मनाही है.

हर सौगात के साथ एक परिच्छेद जो उस उपहार के मायने ही बदल दे. यह कैसा वरदान है के देनेवाला देते देते मेरा ही कुछ लेता जाए ?

रमणीय = beautiful, वसुंधरा = earth, बित्ती भर = a little bit, आवाजाही = thorough fare, गंतव्य = destination, परिच्छेद = clause/condition, वरदान = blessings