On umbrellas

"No! I cannot carry this old-fashioned grandfather's umbrella to school. My friends will laugh at me!" I protested at home. No school boy with an ounce of self-image carried a tent-like, black, "manual" umbrella with a handle curved at its end like a hockey stick! That was simply not done. Dabbawalas and bhaajiwalas carried an umbrella with those features, not school kids at Don Bosco. "Doesn't Subra carry one of these umbrellas?" my mother persisted. Subra was after all my hero- if he ate curd rice with his hands, I ate curd rice, if he listened to Carnatic music, I listened to it as well, however hideous it sounded! "Subra can do whatever he wants- he can shave his head and come to school if he wants to, I can't do something, just because he does it!"

That's when I made the transition from a traditional umbrella to a sleek, automatic umbrella. A press of a button and it unfurled- rather it exploded- on the person in front of you or worse on your own face!
As long as the Principal was out of sight, the short recess was put to good use. The school corridor was filled with kids armed with umbrellas as light sabres- each one re-enacting the famous Star Wars duel between Darth Vader and Anakin Skywalker! It would have looked absolutely comical for someone to prance around and threaten the opponent with a traditional umbrella- more like Gandhiji taking on Darth Vader! It just wouldn't have won the approval of ones peers.

In many ways, the automatic umbrella had several challenges which its counterpart didn't have. Having unfurled the umbrella, it took a lot of effort to bring it back to ground state- the spring would be just too resistant. One had to position the umbrella handle at the belly, clench your teeth and plunge it down- with almost suicidal intent to get the required momentum to close it. The umbrella would close half-way- only for it to protest and groan and snap back to its full-blown form. It was especially frustrating to close the umbrella in time to get onto the BEST bus. Often, the attempts were unsuccessful- either you missed the bus simply because you couldn't close the umbrella  or you tried to gate crash into the bus with the umbrella still open, only for the bus conductor to deny you entry with a brusque show of hand. A traditional umbrella had no such drawbacks- it was just an eye sore!

A traditional umbrella was robust- it could take on the might of Mumbai's rains effortlessly. It was made for it. The automatic umbrella had no such capability. The rains toyed with this umbrella with  mischievous glee. Sometimes, the wind snatched the umbrella right out of your hand and made it perform a few somersaults, while you pursued it with your  hands held aloft- all drenched and looking absolutely silly. At other times, like Bakasura pouncing on his hapless prey, it turned the entire umbrella inside out. It was always a losing battle. After the incident, one of the steel rims would invariably give way. For the rest of the season, you walked around with an umbrella, looking more like a shapeless octopus with one of its tentacles sticking out like a needle! When three of  the four rims gave up, you simply discarded the umbrella and bought a new one- a new, automatic, sleek umbrella.

You always started the year by drawing an umbrella in the Drawing Class. Mrs Sequeira, our Art Teacher, examined the handiwork at the end of the class. Drawing an umbrella was never simple. There is always an irresistible urge to continue drawing curves, once you start one. Soon, almost a dozen curves would be drawn, spanning the entire page. The tough part was drawing the dome of the umbrella connecting the start of the first curve to the end of the last one. Many a student incurred the wrath of Mrs Sequeira for drawing an umbrella which at best looked like a UFO! If he got the dome right, the handle was not at the centre. The umbrella resembled a giant banyan tree with a single   adventitious root hanging apologetically from one side!
Mehernosh wanted to get the umbrella correct to the most intricate detail. He tried to draw even the ornamental cone on top of the umbrella. Only, he got his proportions wrong and drew a cone with dimensions rivalling the handle. At the end of it, it became terribly confusing. His umbrella appeared to have two handles- one at either end. The creation looked the same regardless of which way you turned the paper! Mrs Sequeira was not amused. She squinted her eyes and gave him a mouthful, "You gaddha..." (Donkey! in Anglicized Hindi)... she began.
It was tough to please Mrs Sequeira.

Traditional or automatic, Mumbaikers carry an umbrella for most part of the year. We have an umbilical relationship with umbrellas!





 

Sour grapes!

I have a problem with short stories and the inevitable moral that has to be derived from them.

Sometimes, the moral is right, but the story is questionable, at least for the mind of a child. Take the story of the "Thirsty Crow". We agree that the crow was clever and as an Indian bird, took recourse to "jugaad"- that "desi" trait to make things "work" with a crafty and street smart mind. But what you don't want is for your curious two-year old to take the story too seriously and try the experiment out with the glass of milk... and in the process, swallow both the milk and the pebble! It is a serious possibility with absolutely horrendous consequences, something which the story in all its simplicity just doesn't bother about.

Sometimes, the story is wrong and the moral is also wrong. We go to that story of the woodpecker which pulled out the bone stuck to the throat of the lion. That's exactly why the first story has a problem! Evidently, the lion appears to have towed the crow's line and put pieces of bone along with its water in its water-bowl and yes... paid a very dear price.
Anyway, coming back to this story, the lion, on a different day was ungrateful and wouldn't share its food with the woodpecker. It is known to have remarked to the woodpecker- "I could have swallowed you when you tried to remove the bone from my throat. But I didn't. Be thankful for that and don't disturb me!"
There are some factual anomalies here. How could the lion have swallowed the woodpecker when the bone was already stuck to its throat? Wouldn't the thought- what if the woodpecker also gets stuck along with the bone...crossed the lion's mind!? Or does the story mean... that after pulling out the bone, the woodpecker would have gone in...for a second inspection, to see if the throat was now perfectly fine and on this second attempt, the lion would have had the possibility to consume the woodpecker? The story is obviously flawed with some gaping holes in its plot line.
The woodpecker flew away. At a later point in time, when the lion was asleep, it pecked off one of the eyes of the lion. The lion howled in pain and questioned the woodpecker. The woodpecker is said to have retorted-"I could have blinded you in both eyes. But I didn't. Be thankful for that and don't disturb me!" The moral of the story is of course "Tit for tat".
A popular story all right.. which finds a mention in most picture books that we read out to children. It is left to the reader to imagine what impact it could have on the fertile, tender mind of a child-  leading to a society which justifies revenge and each person bays for the other's blood.
Thankfully, children are a lot more intelligent than we make them out to be. They take the story only at face value, memorize it, parrot it verbatim in class (along with the moral)... when their story-telling turn comes and are off in a flash to some other sensible activity.

The third possibility in the analysis of short stories is....where the story is right, but we have got the moral completely wrong. The fox entered a vineyard and tried to get the grapes which were a little too high. After jumping a few times, he is said to have slunk away with the remark "These are sour grapes". We laugh at the fox.
The question is... what else is the fox expected to do? Obviously, the grapes were too high and couldn't be reached. Do we want the fox to keep jumping till he possibly perishes out of sheer exhaustion!? 
Or do we resent only the remark of the fox- "these are sour grapes"? Again....what is the problem with this conclusion? Let's say that the grapes in that vineyard were all sour. In that case, it would simply be a statement of a fact and perfectly fine.
That's exactly where we poke at the fox- he didn't know that the grapes were sour but simply assumed that they were. Now....what should the fox have said? Do we want the fox to have a life-long complex that he is a downright loser ....because in a particular vineyard, on a specific creeper...some of the sweetest of grapes existed but he couldn't reach them? A conclusion such as that, would have surely nailed the fox's future.

The fox was right. May be, the sweetest of grapes existed, may be not. He tried a few times. He couldn't be faulted for lack of effort. He was pragmatic and gave up an exercise in futility. Most importantly, he made peace with himself with the remark.."these are sour grapes". He was mentally at ease. He moved on....moved on... to greener pastures where the sweetest of grapes sprang from the ground and required no effort at all!
Such is life. Be that frisky fox. Be a winner!!