Monday, March 26, 2012

CAPTIVATING KAHAANI


‘Kahaani’ lives up to our expectations. A suspense thriller, it is almost on par with the best Hollywood flicks of this genre. And Vidya scores again!

The film begins with a very much pregnant Vidya Bagchi landing at Kolkata International airport – she instantly wins us over – even as she single-handedly tackles the sea of taxiwalas almost pouncing on her to bag the prospective passenger. From then on we follow her in admiration as she undauntedly goes straight to the police station, then to the hotel, and soon to various offices – in her mission to find out her missing husband. Her heavily pregnant state and ‘no-nonsense’ demeanor and grit and guts completely win us over - along with the unbelievably chivalrous and soft-hearted police at the chowky – the charmed Rana is indeed Arjuna’s (Vidya’s) charioteer Satyuki – dropping her off, accompanying her and assisting and guiding her in her mission.

The characters are etched carefully and minutely – Vidya’s little mannerisms don’t escape our notice – her penchant for cleanliness even in the ‘less-than-mediocre’ hotel room, her playful amiability with the kids, her sense of humour with Rana, and her ‘one-track-mind’ which almost makes her forget her advanced stage of pregnancy as she restlessly flits in and out of overcrowded by-lanes and narrow buildings in the various scenes. The ladies in the auditorium can’t help gasping in concern – as the stream of pedestrians could bump into her and knock her down in their hurry! Way to go Vidya – thanks for packing more punch to women-empowerment! Undoubtedly Vidya Balan has already notched a place in next year’s awards nominations with her down-to-earth yet powerful portrayal. All the other characters are props but they leave an indelible stamp of their own – be it the soft-natured Rana, the tough-nut Khan, the gentle Agnes, the sleepy gunner Bob, or even ‘running hot water’ Bishnu.

This movie is an ode to Kolkata. Kudos to the cinematographer who has beautifully captured Kolkata in all its varied shades! We fall in love with the city (despite some of its dilapidated offices and ancient filthy tenements) – not only for its culture and metro and landmarks and a few modern buildings but also for the thronging crowds spilling out on the streets, and the yellow Ambassador taxis and hand-pulled rickshaws (we thought they had become extinct!). The early morning scenes bring a smile on our lips - and the only song in this movie is in Big B’s impressive baritone – haven’t we heard this one before? The dazzling Durga Puja scenes – with close-up shots of the Goddess in all her grandeur and glory are scene-stealers. The icing on the cake is the racy climax picturised amidst the Puja procession.

An edge-of-the-seat thriller from start to finish, the absorbing story and taut screenplay keep the audience guessing through and through. There is not a dull moment as we follow the protagonist who wastes no time as she tries to connect the dots to solve the mystery. The well-guarded suspense is maintained till the very last frame. Kudos to director Sujoy Ghosh and leading lady Vidya Balan for the crunchy treat! Certainly more than worth a ‘dekho’ – for the ‘kahaani’, suspense, thrills, Vidya and the visuals - not necessarily in that order!


© Copyright 2011. Brinda Balasubramonian.

Sunday, March 25, 2012

AMMA-SPEAK


(Penned on my mother's third death anniversary)

When I was little and made tall demands
Ma, you’d say, “Don’t ask for the moon!”
Soon a time will come when my grand kids
can plan their honeymoon on the moon!

With so much technology and advancement
can’t I hope for some 11G smart phones,
to call our dear departed
wherever they might be?!
Then my first call will be to you, Ma!
Remember you’d talk to me some 40 minutes
every single day for tidbits and updates.
I have a lot of catching up to do now –
It’s two – wait – three years since you bid adieu!

You considered your children as crucibles
to pour in your cribs and complaints –
Most of them insignificant and baseless,
A few grave, others beyond our control!
That was your nature Ma – harping on endless trivia!
And I’d typically pooh-pooh your unfounded fears!!

We’d go on and on about some day-to-day issue –
“The power-cut has been increased to three hours.”
“But Ma, you have the inverter, don’t you?”
“What will happen in the summer?”
“We’ll think about it then, Ma! Why, you can come down to my place."
“Oh, but I can’t use the lift there!”
“Why not?”
“Can’t trust the fickle power, that’s why!”
“As it is, you don’t go out much, Ma!”
“It’s all very easy for you to say!”
We did have good repartees, no Ma?

I know you never liked your ‘kids’ answering back!
But we too have our say Ma.
You simply loved to look for problems rather than solutions!
If they were minor ones, we’d let you cling on to them,
So you wouldn’t come up with fresh ones!

Some other day, your target would be the maid –
“You know Kala bai turned up an hour late!”
“It’s ok Ma! You don’t have any office-goers!”
“But I can’t have all the housework pending.”
“Well, Ma, she doesn’t have a watch!”
“Ok, go ahead and buy her one!”
Really Ma, you sure had a sense of humor even in your anger!

Another complaint was about the regular tender-coconut-vendor -
“He has not turned up for the past three days!”
“Have something else – ‘nimbu paani’ may be?”
“Can ‘nimbu paani’ equal tender coconut?”
I guess not – stupid me!
There could be no substitutes or adjustments for you, Ma!

Sometimes you’d be agitated with yourself!
“I keep forgetting and misplacing things.”
“Quite natural – you’re getting old, Ma!”
“Not me! Even you are forgetful – didn’t you say so?”
“Yes of course – though I’m much younger!”
“But you have your hubby to hunt for the stuff.”
What’s the connection, I’d ponder.
Stupid of me not to realize you miss appa!

At times you’d complain about sleepless nights.
“I took a sleeping pill prescribed by my doctor.”
“See that you don’t get addicted, ok Ma?”
“All very easy for you to say!”
“Ma! It’s a common complaint in old age.”
“How do you know when you aren’t old?”
I’d feel like tearing my hair but would end up
Clutching my head to retain my cool.
“Why don’t you make up with a nap?”
“A long nap will again result in a sleepless night.”
Always you had to have the last word, Ma!

‘Your brother hasn’t called for over a month.’
‘He must be globe-trotting as usual, Ma.’
'Tell me which country is so backward -
without phone facilities? 
And doesn’t he have the Blueberry or Strawberry….?’
‘Blackberry, Ma!’ I’d chuckle at your wit.
The next day you’d go ga ga over your son’s call –
His long conversation, his concern, care and affection.
You’d blow hot, blow cold – always spontaneous, always blunt.

Most days you had my sister’s company
at home and for small outings.
Some weekends you’d call me after your nap.
‘I’m bored – is there anything worth a watch on TV?’
I’d suggest a musical extravaganza or dance program
Which would have you glued for the whole evening.
Now whenever I’m watching them I can’t but think of you!

You were my window to our family, Ma!
Your calls would connect the dots
To uncles and aunts and cousins.
You’d talk nineteen to the dozen
And I’d be very calculative with my words!
Now I realize what I miss –
I wish I’d spoken what you’d have loved to hear
Rather than being just matter-of-fact.

I want to flip back the calendar by some four years -
Just to hear your non-stop chatter all over again.
Or I wish to get connected to you in the other world -
I know you’ll have lots to share about these three years!
I'm just waiting for another Steve Jobs with fingers crossed!
Believe me, it’s just a matter of time! Or isn’t it?

© Copyright 2012. Brinda Balasubramonian.

Thursday, January 5, 2012

PARTINGS ARE PAINFUL ........

What should we do with her? She is such a cutie - the very thought of parting with her is heart-wrenching. She’s so irresistible, so adorable! She’s petite – you might choose to call ‘her teeny weeny’ - as compared to the bigger or giant ones of her ilk. When we look at her we reassert ‘small is beautiful’ – for one thing she’s so convenient to handle – I mean in so many respects! 

When we brought her home more than 11 years ago she was the apple of the eye of the neighborhood – not a common ‘species’ – not yet - in the area – with her unique attractive color. Every passerby would turn around to give her a second look. But there were a couple of big little bullies around who tried to be rough with her a couple of times, permanently scarring her with a scratch or two.

We would take her out on drives in and around the city but never ventured to take her outstation. She would have behaved well, no doubt, but we were not very confident. During her 11 years with us, she was low on maintenance - she has needed expert attention only on an odd occasion. Once she broke down suddenly without apparent reason and we had to urgently get help before we could take her home.

In fact when we had to go abroad for 4-6 months, we’d feel bad leaving her behind – what else could we do – we couldn’t possibly tag her along. The first time we left her under the care of a good friend. But with our ‘outings’ getting more frequent, we didn’t want to impose her on others. So we opted to leave her under the supervision of our security guard and maidservant. On one of our returns, we found she had been teased by the mischievous little brats around and was not in a position to move! We got her treated immediately and she was on the road once again! 

We returned last month after a six months’ stint in the US. We expected her to be out of shape in our long absence – after all, who except us would treat her as their own? But she had sustained herself so well that she was up and about and driving us crazy.

We have no complaints about her at all – she’s oh so loyal and lovable – just one of her kind. But yes, it is time that we find her a new home – despite our great attachment for her. And we do hope she gets an even better owner than us! We are going for a new car, you see and we really can’t keep our good old Maruti! Good bye dear, sorry and God bless!
 
© Copyright 2011. Brinda Balasubramonian.


Wednesday, December 28, 2011

WELCOMING THE NEW YEAR .........


Skim the newspaper and you’ll feel the racing pulse of the city as New Year is approaching – ads silently screaming about New Year Eve bash inject adrenalin in youngsters as they polish their dancing shoes all set to groove. I’ve never put on (or even possessed) dancing shoes and am not likely to as I’m tottering towards sixty. So I just read them with a smile on my lips with no regrets whatsoever at what I have been missing all along!

New Year - when I was a child - meant nothing more than a couple of new calendars – loved to look at the red dates in each month and count them or admire the hypnotizing expression and chiseled features of the paintings of gods / goddesses. Another memory is of all of us making a mistake in the year during the first couple of weeks of the New Year whenever we wrote out the date – be it in our school work or dad’s letters / cheques. We still do so.
 
As I grew into a teenager, my fad was to collect beautiful single page calendars with ‘small’ months’ dates printed under a huge poster of one of my favourite stars – mind you I had a lot of them – from B. Saroja Devi, K.R. Vijaya to Sharmila Tagore, Leena Chandavarkar to Sridevi – heroines all! Mind you, it was more for the poster than for calendar value. Now I care only for 6-page calendars with just the dates of every month. And may be one exotic and exclusive one with half a dozen really attractive posters that deserve to be laminated! I politely turn down other calendars or simply hand it over to willing takers. And I also remember my dad getting a couple of new diaries – appa used one to write his diary – though on some days it would be no more than a line or two. Sometimes I would get one from him – to write down lyrics of film songs or note down interesting quotes from the books read – and I still have them! At times I sit and admire my ancient ‘pearl-like’ handwriting and wonder at my patience during my adolescence (today’s teens, are you listening?) even as I sing those old-times melodies.

I remember my parents once attending a New Year Eve party with my dad’s office folks – it was late night party alright – anyway I’d love to believe it was the New Year Eve. I was 12, my brother 9 and my sister 5. We had our maid to ‘baby-sit’ us at home. What is etched in my memory is the earthquake at midnight that tossed our cots so violently that all three of us and our maid rushed out of the house in panic and sat waiting for our parents on the verandah itself. Needless to add our parents too had felt the tremors and left the party early to rush home.

If you think I would have been excited about parties when I was in the prime of my life, you are mistaken. (Oh so you didn’t – after having read my first paragraph? Sorry, I shouldn’t have suspected your sincerity and concentration!) After my marriage my attitude did not change and my hubby’s was not different from mine. The arrival of our first baby in the second year of our wedding served as an excuse to insistent friends to skip the New Year Eve dance at the Officer’s Institute in the campus as our priority was our child and a couple of years later – our children! 

With television invading our homes, thanks to DD, we’d sit up and watch the New Year programs meticulously conceived and presented. A couple of years later Zee TV reached our drawing rooms as also color TV and we were more than happy to lap up the colorful presentations – a feast to the eyes and ears. Soon with more and more channels entering the fray, we were left switching channels and loyalties every 5-10 minutes for a number of reasons trying to have the best bites of every spread. The thrill waned in a few years as programs became lackluster. Or perhaps we got sick of the same stuff over and over again. Still, we’d keep channel-surfing till midnight, greet one another in the building and retire to bed cursing ourselves for having lost our sleep over such insipid and inane programs and swearing to have better sense next year. The process would be repeated the following year with expectation and hope of better programs. Soon even some channels started resorting to movies. With already an overdose of movies on the plethora of channels, we have become satiated. So before long, we started hitting off to bed at the usual 10 pm slot and chose to welcome the New Year early next morning after a rejuvenating sleep.

With advancement, western influence and the resultant change in attitudes, people are not holding their purse strings tight but love to binge. No wonder young couples no longer have qualms of drowning a cool 6000 to 10,000 rupees - if not more - on the New Year bash offering unlimited booze, eats, DJ and live shows, fireworks, poolside shows and what not! With a Mallika Sherawat charging a hot 4 lakhs per stage minute, what else do you expect? Shrewd organizers throw in the added attraction of special Kid’s Zone so couples don’t have guilt pangs about their kids. Some even promise chauffeurs to drive you home to prevent drunken driving – a case of pinching the baby and swinging the cradle?! Some resorts have a special scheme up their sleeve to squeeze more out of your purse – they dangle the carrot of special lazy brunch on New Year – at extra price, of course! Money has lost its value – middle-class mentality of saving for the rainy day is on its way out - but not fully for old-timers like us. Also it is a question of what is enjoyment to us – one person’s heaven is another’s hell! After the bombardment of songs on FM radios and same songs on television, grooving / listening to the same songs at full blast live is not our cup of ice cream. Again unlimited spread doesn’t beckon us any more as we eat limited quantity to be benign to our belly. Nor do we drink!

Now we find our young and not-so-young neighbours animatedly analyzing the various hotspots and happening places in the city. As they plan for the New Year Eve bash at hotels / resorts, they politely invite us also to join in and we politely decline. Such bash is not for teetotalers, vegetarians and senior citizens – and we are in the bracket of the combination of all! We are planning a modest get-together of like-minded friends and ring in the New Year with a little fun and frolic and food!

© Copyright 2011. Brinda Balasubramonian.



Thursday, December 22, 2011

INDIAN COOKING IN THE U.S .....


Hubby and I felt proud about our packing – we had definitely made a great progress over the decade - we couldn’t believe that each of us were carrying one whole baggage less than that allowed by international flights! Well, this was our eighth trip to the US and we had graduated from luggage-chugging passengers to luggage-savvy world travelers!

I remember the first time – way back in 2000 – when both my boys were students – we were on an 80-day visit. In addition to two pieces of carry-ons each, we had lugged along two suitcases each – no, not those monstrous sized ones – as both my hubby and me are petite-sized and were inching towards 60 and 50 respectively and could not vainly boast of enough muscle power to lift heavy stuff off the conveyor belts. And guess what? Two of them were stacked with eats, masalas and papads and ready-to-cook and instant foods and snacks galore – well, I wished to help my poor student-sons save a few dollars of their fellowship! But while we were filling up our Customs Declaration form aboard the flight we claimed we weren’t carrying foodstuff as we felt every question should expectedly be answered with a ‘No’. Luckily our lie went undetected or so it seemed - you see our baggage could not make it to the connecting flight unlike us and so we didn’t have to get them through Customs. ‘They’ bravely made it on their own and we don’t know what examinations they had undergone. But next time onwards we had become enlightened and would carefully tick ‘Food’ as ‘Yes’ and added a phrase of explanation - “dry, sealed, packed snacks”. Promptly enough our baggage would go through screening and we had to answer a couple of questions. Once the officials made us open one of our boxes and in particular a stainless steel container tucked inside while we were left wondering what they wanted to find out. On opening it, they saw the round ‘besan laddoos’ and asked us what they were. When we explained that they were sweets, they gave one another meaningful glances and burst out laughing. Putting two and two together, we guessed that from the x-ray, they must have suspected they were bombs!

Okay getting back to the 2000 visit, when we drove down to our son’s student-apartment in the university campus and opened the bags of goodies, my son and his Indian room-mate had a go at the snacks from day one.( I quickly tucked away a part of it – saving it for my elder son who was visiting next week). After the four English meals aboard the British Airways flights, we were eager to savor some Indian stuff. On examining the fridge I saw a bunch of giant tomatoes and a giant onion – that was all the vegetables in there. I made a quick tomato curry out of that and was nauseated at the thought of having it with bread (oh no, not again) when my son came to the rescue and proclaimed that they had Tortillas. “What?” “Tortillas – chapathi-like....” he started explaining. Like a famished kid, I grabbed them, heated them and relished them – anything close to chapathi tasted so divine. But if you ask me now, I’d say it’s a poor cousin of Indian rotis – at least to my ‘Indian’ palate!

I managed with all the ready-to-make eats I had lugged along and we pulled on till the weekend. Then my son took us grocery shopping to the Indian store. Prior to that, he had also given me a list of ‘to-make’ dishes/ delicacies. So I had a long grocery list. I was aghast to find that they sold stuff in giant packets – all pulses were sold in 2lb / 4 lb packs! That’s pardonable but imagine 400 gms of coriander powder/ garam masala – wouldn’t they lose their flavour during the limited use in the Indian homes there tending towards Western cooking? Or for that matter in the apartments of youths who give a once-in-a-week shot at cooking? I couldn’t bring myself to buy a 400 gm packet of mustard seeds for some 3.69$! “What? Rs.180 worth of mustard seeds? I wouldn’t have spent that much money on mustard seeds in an entire year’s cooking in India!”. “Cool it, mom. Need it? Buy it!” pacified my son. I regretted at not having got a 100 gm of mustard seeds from India. May be a 100 gms of cumin seeds too and ….well the list extended …jaggery – it cost more than 4$ for 2 lbs – tut, tut, too bad – I should have packed a kg and saved…When I voiced my thoughts to my son, to my horror, he seemed amused. He went on to explain - “Well, mom, if you convert the $ value into rupees, you will end up buying nothing at all. When I spend my dollars, we have to multiply by 10 if you want to know the equivalent in Indian currency.” “Pray, how’s that?” I asked totally baffled. He patiently explained – “You see, it’s like this – how much do I get as fellowship? 1500 $ per month, right? Well, I can live the life of a fresh-on-the-job-in-India youth – whose first pay check would be something like Rs15000 (in 1998). So my 1 dollar is equivalent to Rs 10. So that’s the equation – but if you are spending your dollar, it is equivalent to Rs.49, got it?” Okay, so that would not be as bad as I had thought. So jaggery would cost a little more than Rs 40/ kg – fine – but I couldn’t condone the fact that we had to buy a 400 gm pack of mustard seeds or a 4 lb pack of sooji – forget the price - I'd be cooking there just for a couple of months!

With the fridge and pantry well-stocked for a fortnight, I plunged into full-fledged cooking. I discovered that making chana didn’t involve a one-day-in-advance planning – I mean beginning with soaking of the chana the previous night. And I didn’t have to pressure-cook it for 24 minutes. All I had to do was make the gravy, open a couple of ‘chick peas’ cans, drain the water, wash it well and add to the gravy and let it simmer and lo, chana was ready! What a saving of cooking time! And when I’m on this factor of time-saving-and-utensil-saving-dish-washing-saving aspect of American way of life, I’d like to add the daily savings – we don’t have to boil milk, we don’t have to prepare curd, we don’t have to make chapathis – we just buy them all. If we don’t have time to cook, well, there are ready-to-eat MTR/ Gits packs to make instant dishes. 

Grocery shopping in the US is a weekly affair and we need a car to cart home the groceries – including milk, juices, buttermilk/yogurt, flavored milk, ….and fruits and vegetables and bread and eggs, ice creams, and other dairy products. It’s not like going for an evening walk and getting stuff on our return. Oh yes, if we have a nearby shop, we could walk up and get one or two absolutely essential items. Too many are ruled out because we can’t carry the giant sized ones.

Another thing is, I have never ‘paid’ for green chillies/ coriander/ curry leaves in India – I have evolved my own strategy by which my friendly vegetable vendor more than gladly obliges me with a handful of green chillies/ a quarter bunch of coriander leaves/ a two-inch-ginger piece/ half a dozen stalks of curry leaves. We are no big users of these spices, so the magnanimous ‘bonus’ would suffice for my cooking. But when I went to get vegetables in the US, I had half a mind to tuck in five green chillies along with some vegetable in the polythene bag, but my son told me that I use a separate bag for my ten chillies. I was surprised to see them getting weighed and charged some 15 cents. That’s one thing in the US – they will neither forego nor keep back the smallest cent! 

With subsequent visits to the US there were changes in our outlook and attitude. The boys had settled down in their jobs and I (it was never them) didn’t need to be very calculative! So whatever stuff was available in the Indian stores there (and that was a pretty lot) were eliminated from my list of ‘to-take-to-the-US’ list. Every subsequent trip saw us travelling lighter and lighter… Also the variety of vegetables stocked in Indian stores these days leave no cause of complaint or yearning – the frozen section has cut ‘tondli’, drumstick, ‘methi’, samosas, burgers and many more….. There are fresh chapathis and assorted parathas as well as idli/dosa batter and all leading brands of Indian sweets and snacks – you name it and they have it – to satisfy our craving for Indian food. At Trader Joe’s, we even found packaged Masala Dosa on the counter!

Well, all said and done, every time we return home after a six-month-stint in the US, I do go berserk when I go marketing and bring home a car-load – so irresistible is the spread of tender, fresh, modest-sized, and tasty Indian vegetables which seem so low-priced in comparison to the $ rates!

© Copyright 2011. Brinda Balasubramonian.



Teenage years ....

Teenagers – the most exciting and excited set of youngsters – bubbling with the effervescence of life. The popular notion is that they are tough to handle as they consider that they are grown-up while the elders do not! The elders claim that this is the toughest period of life while teenagers feel it is this self-proclaimed ‘well-meaning’ advisory committee that makes it so. Looking back through the decades, the common factor in the teenagers of different periods is the sudden surge of excitement and thrill of independence and the resultant feeling of assertiveness bordering on rebellion. Only the levels were different, so too the societal norms.
I have this good family friend of mine who’s known to me for more than three decades. A typical middle class family of urban India – they can easily be representatives of their generations – I present them as the mouthpieces to project the teenagers of their times? Let’s hear straight from the horse’s mouth.
Lakshmi – teenager of the early 70s
“My teenage years? Were they turbulent? I don’t think so; nor was it for most of my generation.
Parents had the last word and we didn’t feel the urge to argue – but my brother did - at times. Guess it was true of all the boys. Mom was a housewife and so she was always there for us. I have two siblings – a brother and a sister – we shared a room and our possessions. We shared our joy, our little secrets and our worries. Each of us being two years apart, we formed an excellent support system for one another.
Hm… what was our routine like? Early morning saw us rush through our rituals to be in college on time. Classes were demanding but had an element of fun too. After enthusiastic interaction with friends throughout the day, we’d get to speak to our friends only the next morning – not that we missed anything! After returning home and freshening up, we girls would spend time at home while my brother would zoom off on his bicycle for an outing with friends. Tuitions? That was for the ones who had to struggle even to pass!! We’d enjoy humming while listening to film songs on Radio Ceylon / Vividh Bharati / local radio station on our transistor. Then an hour or two of studies. Then all of us would sit down to enjoy dinner, exchanging the anecdotes of the day and then retire for the night. We’d have family outings on Sundays – an evening at the beach or park or a shopping spree or an occasional movie. Only once have I gone for a movie with my friends – all girls, mind you. That was after our SSLC exams. All the moms insisted we go for the matinee show and we girls had no option. We compromised on the theatre to save for snacks and returned home with a splitting headache after 3 hours in the non-A/C theatre. Four years later, when my bro had come down on summer vacation, both of us planned a movie programme but mom vetoed it. Her argument was that seeing us together, strangers / acquaintances who were not familiar with my brother (he was in hostel in another city) would have a misconception about our relationship. Such were the times. Teenage girls rarely spoke to boys – if they could help it… 
That being the case, need I specify that I went to a girls’ college? College was fun – yes, even then…. We had our fair share of giggles and groans and snores and pranks at the expense of gullible / inexperienced teachers. But everything was definitely in moderation and never affected the teaching schedule. But my brother would regale us with tales of classroom ‘hungama’ – echoing with continuous chants, catcalls and whistles drowning the novice-teacher’s brave bellows in retaliation! Boys wore bell-bottoms and sported side burns and aped the mannerisms of the chocolate heroes of the silver screen. 
Western outfits were very uncommon among girls - stuck to traditional clothes – half-sari if we were in South India and salwar-kameez if in the North. But we’d imitate hairstyles and trends of the most popular screen goddesses. I still remember we all combed our hair in such a fashion that covered the top half of our ears – my mom would object and I’d pay a deaf ear! That was rebellion, if you please! 
I was one of the toppers in college but as I hailed from a conservative family which believed in marrying off the daughter after graduation, I didn’t join a professional course but opted for B.Sc. – like so many of the girls. But since the town had only a coed college, we had no choice! Girls formed a very small percentage of the college population – after having been the cynosure of my teachers in a girls’ college earlier, I found here that the girls were being sidelined by the young professors – for whatever reasons! And we girls always moved in a group and kept the boys at bay – we would even commute by the first ‘girls only’ trip of the college bus to escape boys’ riddling stares and wagging tongues. We would exchange notes about studies with a couple of studious boys. That was it. The campus would come abuzz only during recess. As for the rest of the time, every one of us would be cooped up in classrooms. Library? It was mostly for issue of books and not a set of cozy corners for chit-chat – definitely with no real scenes like the cute reel scenes of the film ‘Bobby’. I can only remember one Romeo-Juliet love story blossoming in our campus in my three years there ….."

Preeti – teenager of the early 90s
"Hi! I’m Preeti. Lakshmi is my mom. I was born when she was 22; my brother two years later. Mom took up a job only after we had become sort of independent – that was when I was nine. And she’d be home by the time we were and so we never missed her. Some of our friends also had working moms and most of the households had two children.
My parents were still the conservative lot and sent my bro and me to convent schools located adjacent to each other. We commuted by the same public transport and mingled with all. We carried an emergency fund of some thirty rupees – just for emergency. A couple of our friends would show up on scooters on rare occasions and my brother had even sneaked a pillion-ride only to be severely reprimanded when discovered. Parents generally never allowed their teenage children ride scooters – they expected them to wait till they turned 18 and were eligible for license. Both of us had bicycles – we’d go our separate ways to meet some friend on some specific purpose if needed. Otherwise we did our own stuff – bro would be out playing cricket with friends or simply hanging out with them. I would catch up with the girls around. Cable TV had invaded our drawing rooms. Both of us would have a tussle for the remote – he would root for Star Sports / MTV and I for the sitcoms. It would be resolved when Dad took control of the remote! Otherwise our schedule was somewhat like mom’s in the 60’s & 70’s – an occasional movie with family / friends. I’d rarely call up friends as there was no need to and anyway very few had telephones. But we could if we needed – as every street had PCOs. 
Though both my parents were working, they still stuck to middle class mentality. Both of us siblings planned to go in for engineering and that might have been the reason for their caution and thrift. We would demand Archie’s Digest / Hardy Boys whenever we passed by any bookstore. Parents knew when to draw the line and sideline our request. I still remember how we treasured our books – ironing out the creases and dog-ears. My brother was fiercely possessive of his ‘Hot Wheels’ collection even as a teenager and never allowed any visiting kid handle them!
We had our share of fun in college – we’d even bunk a boring lecture now and then and trot to the nearby restaurant in a group for a snack and discussion – on studies, of course, what did you expect? Most of us were focussed – coaching classes had sprouted and many made a beeline to them for improving their scores in SSC and HSC. Very few like us stayed away from the temptation of following the crowd. But then we too ended up for the Test series for more practice. A few of my friends who had opted for the Commerce / Arts stream took up part- time jobs and started earning while learning. But the rush was for Engineering and Medical professions. Were teenage years stressful? Definitely – for the competitive ones! The studious ones were stressed - to get into premier institutes for higher studies, the hardworking ones – to make the cut to professional colleges and the rest – to postpone career options till after a basic degree….."

Aditya – teenager of the last decade
"I’m Aditya. Preeti is my mom and Sanjay my dad. Both of them are IT professionals. You see ours is a ‘DIOK’ family – like so many around. Yes, you’ve guessed it – ‘Double Income One Kid’ family. Though I have working parents, I do get to spend quality time with them. Do I miss a sibling? Not at all! I am the nucleus of the family and everyone revolves round me. Don’t I enjoy all the attention I get! On some weekends the three of us take off on long drives or to some resort at times to unwind ourselves. Otherwise I hang out with my friends while mom and dad are busy with their profession and social life. We believe in respecting our privacy and giving space to one another!
Of course I have an excellent support system in my friends too – and they are just a call away. I can bank on them to rally round me whenever I want. In fact we are together most of our waking hours – at college, then at the coaching classes, at one another’s homes – for combined study and discussions as most of us have very busy parents. Some of my friends are from broken homes; it’s really hard for them. My parents also let me have fun with my friends – we go trekking or biking or simply end up making a round of the hot spots in town or hip hop places or chilling at the malls or movies or pizza places.
Mom and Dad are very understanding – they know that times are changing and the world is not the same as before. My uncle who noticed that I go in only for branded stuff was quick to mention that he got his first Reebok for his graduation! I am lucky to possess an expensive cell phone and a resplendent bike – to keep in touch and to save time. And whenever I step out of the house I carry at least five hundred rupees if not my credit card – for emergency. Don’t you agree all this is perfectly justified – in the current scenario? But no, my grandma would raise hell about these issues whenever she is around. She’d accuse mom of spoiling me silly and giving me excessive freedom. I don’t blame her – generation gap, you see - but she simply won’t understand. Mom simply lets the storm in the teacup subside on its own. Another thing - I also give lift to my friends Sheela and Ann and Hasina … – we don’t see anything wrong with that. But I tell you, grandma would riddle me with her bullet-stares but I wouldn’t be affected in the least! Don’t I give rides to Alok and Rohit as well? Move on Grandma, times have changed!
If we friends have to move around it has to be on our own vehicle – even girls zoom around on two-wheelers cooing, “Why should boys have all the fun?” Quite right. And they dress up in jeans and top – the most convenient outfit to zip-zap-zoom! We boys on our part love to sport different hair styles and tattoo and ear rings, chains and bracelets. All campuses are abuzz with girls and boys - there’s no distinction – all of us are just students. Many of us are gizmo-geeks – while jogging we’re wired to our iPods. While waiting or even riding anywhere, we’re busy texting or talking on our cell phones. Our backpacks carry our laptops – needed for presentations and assignments. A few lucky ones keep downloading apps on our iPads. And some of us have the ‘Kindle’ for instant access to books/ journals. See we have everything at our finger tips – thanks to internet! We go to college of course – a lot of crowd is outside the classrooms. And we do gain a lot from the animated discussions with our friends. The craze is still for professional colleges – for Engineering and Medicine. Till we land up there, life is a never-ending whirlwind of school/college and tuitions/coaching classes. New fields are opening up and attracting students; fees are skyrocketing. But trust our parents to provide us with the best they can! Things have become highly competitive but all those who can afford, can still make it to the course of their choice. Some who don’t have the inclination or funds, opt for Commerce / Arts stream and they wisely take up Call Centre jobs and get training and a decent pay packet – even as they are swift in adapting themselves to the Western influence. Levi’s, Nike, cell phone, iPod, Blackberry … are symbols of the modern teenager’s status. 
Oh yes, in spite of being so very hectic, life is more than thrilling for today’s teenager!"
 
© Copyright 2011. Brinda Balasubramonian.

Friday, December 16, 2011

TALK (OF) THE WALK - 2

Read the piece 'Talk of the Walk' - 1? Now cut to a scene six months later – this time it’s a different place! No prizes for guessing the place!!

We get out of our housing society gate at the crack of dawn for our usual walk. “Which direction?” asks hubby. “Hm.. let me think … If we go right, we have the overflowing garbage bin raising a stink. If we go left we have to put up with the dug-up road.” It is like Scylla and Charybdis – we choose the former! Obviously it turns out to be the wrong choice. We have to hold our breath (pun intended) for a long stretch strewn with plastic bags and rotting peels and eggshells and what not - the huge garbage bin has done the vanishing act - again! The quadrupeds are having a field day as they excitedly vie with humans to extricate some redeemable stuff from the rotting pile! As it is we have to walk with eyes down to avoid stepping on spit and poop of dogs/ cows/ goats ….; at the same time, we should not swerve to the left or right otherwise the vehicle following us almost kissing our heels will knock us down. We need to look straight ahead too to be vigilant about the oncoming traffic. To make matters worse, there is a lot of traffic in this route due to the road repair in the other direction and we have to hop, skip and jump to avoid being run over by cars and scooters and cycles, not to forget the menacingly growling monstrous trucks! Some rash drivers honk so loudly in our ears or brush past us so dangerously close that they make us jump out of our skins. And those self-proclaimed lords of the roads zoom past us poor pedestrians with a proud smile of superiority playing on their lips and their puffed nose up in the air!

Some early morning walkers come armed with a walking stick (though they are not that old) or with a ‘lathi’ (though they are not from the police force or armed forces) or with an umbrella (though there is no sign of rain or sun). The reason? To keep stray dogs at bay! Usually there are at least half a dozen of them – at times calmly moving together, at other times chasing one another sometimes playfully and sometimes menacingly. Either way, we have to play safe you see! Some people even come armed with stones in self defence but there are a few others who come with bread and biscuits to feed them! The number of dog-walkers is also increasing – most of them have their dog on leash. Some others do not – and if the animal comes barging at us, they’ll grin unapologetically and assure us that ‘he’ doesn’t bite. But what’s the guarantee?

For a good brisk walk, it is best to get to the jogging track to escape the traffic and pollution. Many others think so too and make it a habit. So half the people there we know by face and at times acknowledge with a smile. The remaining are friends or acquaintances – with the former, we spend some minutes catching up with news about families and friends or indulging in harmless gossip; with the latter, we exchange pleasantries. So our walks are in a sense a part of our social life!

On the ground adjacent to the jogging track, we can watch local cricket matches – yes matches – sometimes two or even three going on simultaneously – nicely adjusted so that there is least intermingling of players and balls! And there are spectators to cheer them up! We too spend some exciting moments watching the game – it is at times more thrilling and lively than the matches on TV. But we move on soon – we have to – with our hand covering our nose and mouth - the dust hanging in the air is suffocating. There is also the danger of getting slammed by the ball! 

The primary purpose of our walk is maintaining good health – of course we feel we are benefited – marginally at least – if we schedule the walk well - at minimum pollution level! There is a secondary purpose too – buying essentials (newspaper / milk / bread in the morning or vegetables / fruits in the evening) from the numerous shops lining the roads or from the vendors dotting the street corners! There may not be expansive greenery or an array of attractive gardens to catch our eye but there is enough variety of stuff stacked in the little shops around craving for our glances! And for our purses too – this means we can’t dream of stepping out for a walk without our purse!

As we enter home we thank our stars that our walk has been accomplished for the day – with our body parts intact!

© Copyright 2011. Brinda Balasubramonian.