Friday, 27 December 2024

Happy New Year!

My earliest recollection of a New Year celebration goes back to the time...when “Hangama-82” was the title for the new year program on Doordarshan. (No prizes for guessing the year!) The title was confusing because at around that time, Sri Lanka had a budding cricketer called “Ahangama”. I presumed the title should be pronounced as “Ahangama-82”. Sister snapped, “Stop saying Ahangama! It is hangama!” “What does Hangama mean?” I asked. Sister replied, “Hangama means fun, frolic and associated commotion!” “Then, what does Ahangama mean?” was my natural question. “How do I know? You go and ask him, whoever he is!” was the blunt response. New year '82 had to be ushered in, with the profound doubt still lingering on hangama versus ahangama!

You just couldn't wait to hit the new year! Midway through the TV program, Hangama-82 announced that the new year had already reached Japan and Australia! The new year felt like an unstoppable ocean wave- on its course to lap the shores of India. “Why is the new year taking so much time to reach India? Why can’t the new year come to India first?” I asked. Sister did not answer. May be, the international dateline and the associated discourse on Geography was too complicated a topic. But I bet she did not know the answer either!

As a kid, you expect some dramatic denouement. After all, staying up till midnight and the eventual countdown 10-9-8-7 must amount to something significant, isn’t it?  Amar Chitra Katha spoilt us with those riveting illustrations.  When Sudama (Kuchela) reached his home after meeting Krishna, in an instant, his entire world had changed. His dilapidated hut was replaced by a huge, golden mansion. His wife and children, no more wore rags, they were dressed in silken finery. You expected the stroke of the new year to bring about such a melodramatic change. “5-4-3-2-1…Happy New year! Happy new year!” the chorus echoed on TV. There was no transformation like Sudama's home! “What? New year has already come? Really? Where is it? Where is it? Nothing has changed at all!” The anti-climax was total!

New year meant breaking old habits. For some time, you continued to write the previous year in the school notebook. “Still in the previous year? Wake up, dear! Wake up! It is 82!” the teacher gently corrected. For some time, the new year looked “odd” on paper. The date just didn’t seem right, as though the numbering lacked a certain grace and symmetry. You got used to it, much like acquired taste, as the days went by!

It was also the time, when you had to recite from memory, Tennyson’s poem centered on the new year. The poem "Ring out, wild bells" was littered with the phrases “ring out” and “ring in” in various contexts. It led to comical situations in class. The teacher had to intervene repeatedly, “It is not “ring in” the grief that saps the mind, it is “ring out” the grief! It is not “ring out” the thousand years of peace. It is ring in!” There were just too many "ring outs" and "ring ins" in the poem!  How we wished...Tennyson could have written his new year poem a little simpler for memorizing!

One particular year, I was in Delhi at the time of Christmas and new year. Each city has some peculiar English pronunciation, that is unique to its soil. Delhi has one too, I discovered. “Merry” was pronounced with a slight elongation on the vowel-sound “e”, so that it sounded more like “a”. “Merry” was pronounced more like “marry”. “Marry Christmas yaar! Heppy new year! Marry Christmas yaar!” was the consistent instruction, across the city! For sure, the matrimonial equation was overly complicated in Delhi, with so many contenders for Christmas!

Wild celebration for the new year is now a part and parcel of mainstream culture. It existed, to an extent, back in the Hangama-82 days too. The partying folks parodied the "passing year"...as though, dressed like an old man, heckled him and drove him out! The enthusiasm was infectious. But at home, the revelry was tempered with grandparents, who sometimes watched the new year TV program, sitting alongside. “You see those fellows celebrating the new year…jumping like monkeys on a tree?  In all that jumping, they forget…that with each passing day, Kaala is cutting the base of the very tree on which they are jumping! What are they celebrating, I say?” grandma made a point. “Who is cutting? Who is slicing the tree?” I asked, wondering how the monkeys will cope with a wobbly tree. “Kaala! Kaala! Don’t you know? Yama…is sawing the trunk of the tree, day by day! What is the celebration about?” grandma clarified. It was sobering thought, but there is one counterpoint- the monkeys could definitely jump to another tree, in the worst case, isn't it?

Hangama, Ahangama, Tennyson, the monkeys-and-tree imagery…all vie with each other to complete my new year picture! Happy New Year!

 

 

 

Friday, 20 December 2024

Tomorrow's question paper...I am going to tell you now!

This is a real incident going back to 8th standard. Mrs. Kher, our Hindi teacher, entered the classroom. “Class! I want you to pay full attention. No fidgeting, no talking to your partner, no looking out of the window and no daydreaming! Tomorrow is your Hindi exam, right? I am going to tell you what’s going to come! Kaan khol kar sun lo!”

The boys could hardly believe their ears. “M’am! Tomorrow’s question paper! You are going to tell us…what’s going to come…now?”  “That’s correct! Every duffer and every donkey should pass this time!” Mrs. Kher explained, overflowing with the milk of human kindness.

Did we hear her right, did we? Since when did Mrs. Kher become so overly generous? There was absolute disbelief. Maybe, a different spirit was indwelling her frame, that made her talk like this?

But this was not the time to ponder over possibilities. Hindi exam was a tough nut to crack. Before Mrs. Kher changed her mind, we had to extract the question paper and copy it down to the letter!

Dinesh, the class monitor, immediately shut the windows and drew the curtains. You do not want secrets leaked carelessly. The class normally resembled a fish-market. It was now steeped in pin-drop silence- just the whirr of the fan and the occasional clearing of the throat.  

The notebook was on the desk and the pen was held aloft. We waited with bated breath. Mrs. Kher began in a hushed tone, as though the map to a hidden treasure was about to be revealed.  “Class! Write down, carefully. This is very important. There will be 2 sections. We start with Section-A. Prose (gadya) questions- 20 marks. Poem (padya) questions- 10 marks. Fill-in-the-blanks- 10 marks. Match-the-columns- 10 marks. That makes it a total of 50 marks. Correct?”

“We now come to Section-B.  Grammar (vyaakaran)- 10 marks. Use-the-right-idiom (muhaavara)- 10 marks. Comprehension- 10 marks. Essay (nibandh)-20 marks. This will be your paper tomorrow!” Mrs. Kher smiled, pleased as punch.

There was a stunned silence. It was a confusing silence. David, whose “whole body was brain”, could not contain himself, “M’am! You have revealed the entire paper! The entire paper! How can we ever thank you…m’am? How can we?” Once David set the ball rolling, others followed the template. More and more students were convinced they needn’t even study for the exam.

The class ended for the day. The students rushed out…like tearaway horses let loose. “We know the Hindi paper! We know what’s going to come tomorrow!”- collective screams rent the air, as the boys ran down the corridor.

By now, students from the adjoining classes mobbed us. “You know what’s going to come tomorrow? Please rey!  Share with us! Please rey!” Dinesh acted pricey, “Here’s the deal- you buy 2 stickers and 2 “gola” ice-candies at Jaadiya’s (hawker outside the school) and I will tell you the entire paper! Simple!” Business acumen was sharpened on those school corridors.

Amid all this excitement, only Sridhar wore a grumpy look. “What are you happy about? M’am did not reveal a thing. She just stated the obvious! Fill-in-the-blanks- 10 marks or 20 marks. How are you any wiser…man…now that you know?”  Sridhar was outshouted for being a spoilsport.

There is a reason why I remembered Sridhar. Earlier this week, one of the former legends of Cricket, wrote an article titled- “How Indian batters can go past 400” in the Test Match against Australia. The headline caught my attention. Surely, the article is going to share some pearls of wisdom, some rare insight, some subtle analysis.

The article went as follows. Reproducing verbatim- “India's batters will need to fire on all cylinders. India will need a good opening partnership. One of the top three batters will have to score a 'daddy hundred' (Note: “daddy hundred” means a score in excess of 150). Keep smart targets. The first 10 to 15 runs will be hard to get but once the batters are settled, they should make the most of the opportunity. If India keep this in mind, they can go past 400!”

This legend’s revelation was exactly like the Hindi question paper “leak”. Sridhar was angry with Mrs. Kher on that day. He spoke his mind, “Appun kya Alibag se aayaalai…kya? (Do you think I am a bumpkin from Alibag (a rural beach-town close to erstwhile Bombay), that you can take me for a ride…so easily?”

This Cricket article deserves Sridhar’s response- “Appun kya Alibag se aaya hai…kya?”

 

Friday, 13 December 2024

Owning a road-roller!

Let’s face it. Most of our cities have bad roads. The reasons are many- may be, it is the volume of traffic, may be, it is the unseasonable rains. You may own the fanciest car, but life is a great leveler. Your fancy car must negotiate a mud-road here and a ditch there, a pothole here and a crater there!  In the process, it gets all bruised and battered, and soon, it is reduced to a shadow of its former, pristine self.

Earlier this week, I saw a road-roller, parked by the roadside. It was a Eureka moment. It instantly flashed- why not sell the car and buy this road-roller instead? The more I thought about it, more overwhelming were the benefits…and mind you, not one…negative point. I couldn’t help patting myself, for stumbling upon this brilliant idea.

Owning a road-roller is like taking matters into your own hands, taking the bull by its horns, as they say. You feel totally empowered. Bad roads? No problem at all! The road-roller will level the bad road to submission. You pave your own path…literally! And once you’ve leveled the road, think about the rest of humanity. They can simply follow you, your road-roller’s footprint, rather. This is exactly what the poet meant when he wrote, “Footprints that perhaps another, sailing over life’s solemn main, a forlorn and ship-wrecked brother, seeing, shall take heart again!” What better social service than this, I say?

Many of us have an intrinsic desire to own a posh car- a Ferrari, a Porshe, a BMW or a Benz. Why do we want a fancy car? Why? Introspection will reveal- we do not want the car per se, we want that “attention”, to be a “head-turner”, a “cynosure of all eyes” as they say.  For this attention seeker, a road-roller is like manna from heaven. After all, the biggest head-turner on the road is the road-roller. It’s like riding atop an elephant! Who will not notice you, looking regal and majestic, as you hurtle down the road, on your road-roller?

Most of our cars are too delicate. Just one touch from a neighboring car, and it crumples like paper. Think about the number of times the fender has got dented, or the sides scratched? “Sir, we need to replace that entire side-plate. We cannot make any pointed fix!” the car mechanic tells you. Each time, you must pay through your nose. A road-roller will have none of these problems- no dents, no scratches, nothing! It is built like a beast, like a bison, like a Patton tank!

Any innovation will face initial resistance. Imagine…you are about to turn your road-roller into a mall. The security man rushes at you, all bewildered. “This is not allowed! Allowed nahi hai!” he may protest. You will have to combat him, “What do you mean this is not allowed? What do you mean? This is my vehicle! Arey bhai! Haan! Road-roller hi mera car hai! Samajh rahen naa aap?” He will likely keep you waiting, to get permission from his superiors. And meanwhile, the other cars in line, will curse you, for delaying them too…with this monstrosity ahead of them. Such episodes are possible.

Getting permission from the home department will not be easy. “I am planning to sell off our Honda!” Wife will ask excitedly, “What a sudden decision! What car should we buy? I heard “Duster” is a good vehicle. Or an “Innova”…” You will have to summarily interrupt her. “No! I am thinking...out of the box, this time. I am planning to buy a road-roller!” “A what?” “A road-roller! A road-roller! Don’t you get it?” Yes, it will take some convincing at home, for sure.

The apartment-complex folks will protest. After all, apartment parking lots are compact. It is possible that the front of the animal will stick out, inconveniencing other vehicles. You will have to counter the objection stoutly- “Show me! Where is it written in the rulebook, where is it written…that you cannot own a road-roller? Show me!” One thing is for sure- once you have parked your road-roller, they can do nothing. They cannot tow your vehicle away, much less, puncture the tires!

When we weigh the pros and cons carefully, the advantages of a road-roller outweigh the negative points, hands down. I am waiting for the day to drive my road-roller down Bannerghatta Road.

Aye! Aye! Aye! Here cometh the road-roller! Here cometh the road-roller! Get out of the way!

Friday, 6 December 2024

When the slippers slip away!

Last month's Udupi trip was eventful. We had a soulful darshana of Udupi Shri Krishna in the evening. As darkness descended, we visited the “Ananteshwara” temple. I was certain I left my footwear close to the stone obelisk before entering the Shiva temple. Once back, they were gone!

The first reaction when you see your footwear missing…is confusion. May be, you left the footwear elsewhere. You are reminded of the proverbial story of the man who dropped his finger-ring in Kumbakonam's "mahaamaham" water-tank, but desperately searched for the ring in the adjoining pond because the mahaamaham tank was too crowded!

You look around the place, shuffling other footwear. May be, yours is playing hide-and-seek. A part of your mind is sure, “No! This is exactly where you left them!” Still, there is disbelief. “Where did the footwear go? Where did they walk away? Did someone steal them? Did someone mistake them as theirs and unknowingly wore them?”  

It is the entry to the Ananteshwara temple, but footwear is littered all over.  Some are neatly arranged; others have been evidently kicked off in a hurry. Some lie straight, some lie on their side, and still others lie prostrate, with the soles facing the sky. Chappals, sandals, hawaai slip-ons, shoes- some new, some old, some worn out, some bruised, some battered, it is an ocean of footwear!

From time to time, there are “false positives”. You jump with glee on spotting something that resembles yours, but a closer scrutiny confirms it is not. Soon, it is evident, they are gone, gone for good. Resignation sets in. My friend had a novel suggestion, albeit too late, “You should separate the footwear. And leave each one, at a different place! That way, no one can steal them!” 

The anger is now directed at God also. He made me buy these new chappals. He got me to the temple. He did nothing, did nothing…while they were being stolen!

A part of your mind tries to console you. “God has better things to do than being your personal footwear keeper! No! It’s not like that, dear! Think about Arjuna. Karna fired the “naagaastra” at Arjuna. The missile was directed at Arjuna’s head. At the nick of time, Krishna pressed the chariot with his foot. The chariot sunk into the earth by a few inches. And now, the missile that should have knocked off Arjuna’s head, could only take off his crown! Like that, may be, something grave was directed at your foot. God intervened and ensured that only the footwear was impacted! Who knows?”  

You get angry with the mind for bringing up oblique arguments like these. The mind brings up one more counterpoint, “Why don’t you think about the 3rd anuvaaka from Shri Rudram? The answer lies there!” This was too much, like asked to crack a clue in a Treasure-Hunt game. Shri Rudram is that celebrated vedic hymn on Lord Shiva. The 3rd section of the hymn is dedicated to an enumeration of all negative elements. It mentions the “occasional-cheat”, the “pathological-thief”, the “land-grabber”, the one who walks away with produce from a field, the forest-brigand, the murderer- the list goes on and on. The section finally ends by saying…all these dregs of human society, they too are “essentially” Shiva and non-separate from him!”  How do you answer the mind now? He wants me to condone my footwear thief on these lines!

To bring the episode to a close, just a street away, there was a footwear shop. I bought a simple pair of slippers. The topic was done and dusted. The trip should have no more…no more…any mention of the word “chappal”! Yes, the mind may be “chapala” and fickle, but I refuse to do any more chappal-dhyaana, I said to myself!

Back in the car, our driver, Murti saar noticed. “That’s why I told you to leave the footwear in the car itself! Weren’t they new chappals? How much did they cost? Whenever you go to a temple….” he trailed away.

Just when the embers are about to cool down, the flames flare up once more!