Category: Children

  • Rattu ka Dabba

    He could feel a few giggles right behind his back, he knew it was gone. Again!

    As Rattu turned back and put his hand into his bag’s tiffin box pocket, he felt plastic and not the usual steel, infact before the lunch break this is all Rattu did with his tiffin, as he always scared to eat it before lunch. He kept feeling his steel lunch box between the classes, and almost every day, he would find someone else’s tiffin box in his bag. A yellow colored plastic one, from the one for him (as declared by all his friends). His dabba was always swapped with his supposedly the one’s dabba which usually resulted in uncountable hours of leg pulling (aahhh…who would touch those beastly legs, like Wodehouse said long time ago) and Rattu going mad throwing his Milton water bottle all over his friends.

    But Rattu really liked what Vaifav Ghar usually did with his tiffin, mostly an omlette sandwich, it was always munched during the history period. Ghar used to stand as our history teacher looked somewhere else, showed the omlette bread to everyone, used to take a bow towards our history teacher and start hogging. Everyone giggled as the teacher talked about 3 points for 3 marks, 6 points for 6 marks and so on.

    Lunch break was always a nice time, there were different kinds of people, firstly the looteras. Loot lo iska dabba they said, and started running behind the ones with their dabbas intact. There was always a gang for whom lunch breaks meant playing leg cricket, it had been going on from very junior sections till almost Class 12th.

    As everyone did this Rattu with his group of friends usually used to enjoy our dabbas, saving them from the looteras on the open terrace. The paratha subjis, maggis, sandwiches, idlis, all of them being shared over general chit chat of cricket, entrances, studies, girls, new possible couples, boring classes, good classes, the smell from chemistry lab etc etc.

    Although there was always one weird thing about the lunch break, the girls were always quite. They used to finish off their dabbas, quietly, nicely sharing the stuff among themselves and then go back to the class mostly. Very peaceful. And unlike the boys they never had yellow oil stains on their uniforms.

    Talking of stains almost every bag had a very oily patch in the area where lunch box was kept. Speaks volumes about our Parathas, Subjis and Achaars.

    And then there was the case of Dabba not brought, which was then given to Dutta Bhaiya on the school gate later by the parents, and delivered in between a classroom by Dashrath Bhaiya.

    Rattu’s school never had a canteen once which was closed after cockroaches were found instead of aloo inside samosa.

    Post lunch break was the time for a nap, a slight nap. It was a deadly period to take for a teacher I assume. Much more challenging than anything to keep students awake at that time. Somehow Rattu never fell asleep in school, never ever, even after a nice lunch break. School was always so much fun.

    And so were the Dabbas.

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    Do you have any memories associated with school lunch box?

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  • The SemiPali Adventure

    Mondays were always like this, f**king boring, although I am not allowed use the F word as I am still in class VIth, it brings out the haaawww from you. So we have a Maths test tomorrow, I don’t know what happened to my school and they kept this routine of a weekly test, Kendriya Vidyalaya is so good they have a unit test, need to study once a month, we need to do it four times a month, although thanks to Gregorian, we sometimes have it five times a month.

    Mr Sharma, we secretly call him DK and laugh behind his back, is different from the rest, just this year they started telling us that other than numbers you can also play with a,b,c in Maths, hey but this guy is new, maybe he doesn’t know Maths at all, otherwise confusing English with Maths is a mistake, atleast something which I would never do. He calls this new thing Algebra, sounds like a Arabic Zebra, but my friends say that if you do this you get very good marks later in boards, and anyway everyone says you have to be good in Maths, they are the only test copies my father is interested in seeing, luckily for me I end up scoring good marks in this.

    So I have a Maths test tomorrow, and I can’t get the hang of it, these f**king (a,b,c)’s, so let me roam around a bit. Maybe Kartik would be studying too, let me bug him, he studies a lot anyway all the time. Kartik lives on the last home of my row, in township we have rows of houses, we even have gali rivalry, people from our row cross into other rows mostly to play cricket, pitthul and kabbadi and racetrip as we don’t have enough boys of our age group here, all are people from Tiny Cottage, those red dress wearing, nose wiping, small looking kids.

    I shouted Kartik’s name standing at his house gate, it may not sound civilized but this is the way we do our things, and he comes out in his trademark wide-assed shorts and a baniyan. By the way Kartik quite wide-assed, literally i.e., people had that observation when he rides his cycle, both the cheeks spread out like a vada-pav. Infact most of our brain works during that time only, we think better when we are on our cycles, we talk about girls in different way nowadays too while riding the cycle, things are changing.

    “So, how is the preparation, bore laga raha hai”
    “Yes Pattu, but I still have lots of course pending”
    “Hmm…, lets roam around a bit, get fresh and come back, you and Sunny always talk about that place right, with a small river and a bridge nearby”
    “SemiPali?”
    “Oh haan, yes that one, lets go there ”
    “Now? You must be out of your mind its around 10kms, no point today, we can go tomorrow”
    “Na na, today chal yaar, this algebra anyway doesn’t make any sense”
    “Ok, let me get ready then”. So Kartik puts on his trousers, wears a rough looking checked shirt, I am wearing a trouser too with some T-shirt. Trousers are in nowadays, my cousins from cities talk about something called a jeans but we don’t like that much, trousers make you look older than your age, and also its much better than half pants, we are in sixth now, so we are anyway allowed to wear trousers, it feels great, also with so many hirsute male legs around, it is a welcome move.

    So we pick up Sunny from his home and progress on our cycles to SemiPali, Sunny by the way is another of my classmate, I don’t interact with him much but Kartik so transitive ways I too, he is a good footballer and is creating a buzz on the township cricket scene too nowadays. SemiPali is a small village next to JamniPali, our township is located in village Jamnipali although it can be noway called a village with beautiful gardens, club, great homes, shopping centres and clubs around.

    Sunny talks about Semipali on the way, about how Kartik and he has been to the area before, how they found out that place, how one of his chachaji sat on a grave and had a cigarette.

    “Grave!!!”

    Yes he said, he told the river had a graveyard nearby, which was rumoured to be extremely old, and its closed now that means no more new burials there, but for me it came as surprise, recently they started Zee Horror show on television which I find very scary and anyway I am very afraid of ghosts and spirits and similar stories. The first episode was killer with the head of Archana Puran Singh served on a plate by a butler, although Butler reminds me of the sweet Butler from Ducktales, wonder what his name is though?

    We ride on this kaccha road outside our township, all Chattisgarh roads are kaccha mostly, and you just have to get out of the township to ride on any of them. As we continue on the road, we find a theatre on the way.

    “Hey, have been here saw Jurrasic Park here, what is it playing now”

    Some dirty stuff, people say its known as Porn or something, its not good for kids and newspapers and posters advertise it as above 18 stuff, I don’t know how being 18 qualifies you to see a movie, although the poster here doesn’t have any good hero-heroine also, who will watch it anyway. Also it seems Jurrasic Park is the only under 18 movie ever played in this theatre, because that’s the only one I saw here with Meenal (chronologically my oldest friend, about her sometime later).

    As we start moving ahead the small shops and business owners give way to lush wide paddy fields (quite a common thing in Chattisgarh) and half chopped teak woods in the way. This area is mostly red-soiled, you can conclude that in two ways- the ghadas made here are Red in Color and during Autumns when the leaves dry and shed off, they all get a reddish tinge on them from dust. They look simply amazing, even the Trees turn Red. Certainly not RedWood though, read in Britannica that they are found in USA. Right now though my Hercules MTB is getting a Red Tinge, lucky Kartik and Sunny, they have a Red Bike.

    As we moved ahead all three of us were pretty excited, both of them talked about the beauty of the place, while I was wondering how I could have missed this place. The road was sparsely populated, just a few cycles once in a while and even a tractor once. The slightly tiring long legs on the BiCycle keep moving though, crawling towards the destination.

    On the way you see small children playing, women moving around with Water in Brass Pots and men sitting and chatting, its almost 5:00 PM and everyone is back from fields. One thing about Chattisgarhi Women though, their skin is has this amazing shine, it shines as though tonnes of Coconut Oil has been poured on it, and when they carry the Brass Pots on their heads, the sheen and the contrast makes the whole imagery brilliant. That Dark Shining Skin reflects confidence and their hardworking character, which I find missing in people from township. I was seeing this movie Shaukeen the other day where even Utpal Dutt was appreciative of Chattisgarhi women, but in a not so goody way. Generally he is good but that time he wasn’t, he was a bit dirty.

    “Aha, so here we are”

    “Pahuch gaye” shouted Kartik while getting off from his Bike in a superb fashion which was possible for only Kartik to do. Jumping off and continue running, it was funny but took a lot of practice. He also had many other tricks up his sleeves on a bicycle of which I had tried at least half, and almost all of them had resulted in a fall, and Dettol being pured over me.

    It was beautiful. It was like well, lets see, a bridge, a leftward turn down a dusty lane, a small river, making the nice kal-kal sound. Smell of wet mud, aha, now thats something.

    “And, there is the kabristan” shouted Sunny. How the hell does one see that in between the scenic beauty. Anyway we rolled our cycle down the lane next to the bridge, took it to the river and gave it wash. It was shining, the sun was about to set and there was a beautiful orange light all around us, the cycles were shining too, although the shine was nothing compared to the skin of those beautiful Chattisgarhi women.

    And it was all so nice, we sat there, and it was all so nice, before…

    He was a silhouette, a sort of a shadow, a lean figure, short in height, he just kept walking, he came from the side of the kabristan. I don’t know what the others were thinking, I thought he was a ghost, a spirit, or something on those lines. He limped slightly, and then he came near Sunny’s cycle, a mid-heighted reddish bike, picked it up and kept walking. He didn’t utter a word, we shouted chased him, but we were so scared, we couldn’t do a thing, it was so weird.

    And he went away, and I sat there, scared and stunned, and suddenly I realised that Kartik and Sunny were running behind him and they were gone.How the hell did they have the guts to chase him. I felt slightly ashamed, or maybe weird that I didn’t support them. All I could manage to do, is cry.

    Yes, I cried!

    And I picked up my bicycle and started going back towards the township, the roads were empty and dark, there was hardly any street lighting on the way back. I felt ashamed that maybe I just left my friends on their own, or I felt that I cheated them, or I was just lost.

    Yes, I was lost!

    I was just going back, I found a drunk fellow on the way back, and there were no Chattisgarhi women with that awesome shining skin. I was crying and cycling back, running away from my first slightly super-natural adventure.

    It was an hour and then I saw light, ya, Mohan talkies was here and I had reached the edge of the township and once I entered I cycled back to my home.

    I had reached, somehow!

    I just ran to my room and sat on my greenish teak wood study table. I couldn’t concentrate, nor did I have the courage to goto Kartik’s home and ask about him.I was scared, and I wanted to read.

    I somehow tried to sleep later at night and just saw the same figure before me. I ran to the bathroom and saw him standing there again. It was so so bad.

    Morning finally came.I possibly had my first night out and somehow cycle to the college. I crossed Kartik, we didn’t say anything and rushed away to the test hall. I couldn’t see Sunny around, but later realised he sits in another exam hall. I couldn’t concentrate, nor could Kartik, I just wanted it to end.

    And it ended, and we met, and I asked?

    “How was the test?”

    Kartik told “ It was Ok!”.We met Sunny sometime later, he said “Hi” and moved on.

    What about the kabristan guy? What about the cycle? What about Semipali again? What about Maths test? How did you come back and how?

    The day ended and I just wanted to go back and sleep, I stepped out into the cycle stand and saw Sunny riding his red cycle. I wondered what had happened. Maybe I shouldn’t discuss this, maybe I was too sleepy!

  • Scooter ki Sawari

    Scene 1: I was behind him, on 4th gear but always afraid to go a bit faster, my foot always flirting with the foot brake, and then something strange happened. Bhippu was sitting behind him, and he the fearless Jubhash riding his bottle green some plain looking bajaj turned back, and said namaste. All this while the scooter kept speeding ahead of me.

    Scene 2: We were standing at our regular adda, doing bakbak, and the girl passed. The girl on the pink ladybird (well there were so many of them during those days), and Jubhash again went mad, he picked up Seepak’s awesome hulky looking cream LML and went behind her, I don’t know why but he went behind her. His best buddy Taanu accompanied him.

    He came back after 10 minutes, and then something strange happened, he stopped the scooter, and raised his hand, the clutch came out and he gave it to Seepak. He drove it for half a km without a clutch in place!!!

    Scene 3: He told me to release the clutch dheere dheere, and move the accelerator up at the same pace. Unlike making him run while learning the bicycle this was much much relaxing, and I learnt it in one day. He told me about his first scooter, a Vijay Super (made by UP government factory to capitalized on the growing demand and limited supply by Bajaj) which was bought by my dadaji.

    Putting it on stand and locking the scooter took maximum time to learn.

    Scene 4: Me and him and his Jijaji’s scooter. It was a very pale looking Bajaj, well past its prime, but we roamed around the empty roads of Gandhinagar on that, eating paratha shaak, sipping Trupti lassi and Gh-0 soda on the way back. All my bank work, taking people to Civil hospital, going to R-World, everything was done on that. It just went on and on, and I think finally it died a silent death, although much used it was, and it had a painful life. I wish we had treated it in a better way.

    Scene 5: I entered from the Kaveri Vihar end, parked the scooter there, and my friend used to enter from the Yamuna Vihar end, parking the scooter there, I always used to take aloo-pyaaz in the end, he used to buy it first. Subzi market in the township was the place where one realized the true power of a scooter. It was so easy to carry tonnes of it near your feet, and you can always show a thenga to bike guy on the Tuesday and Friday, days when weekly subzi market was there.

    Scene 6: It was my birthday, and it was bhoko’s birthday. Guys from NTPC were brilliant, they drove scooters, guys from MPEB had one thing in common, everyone drove Sunny, that plastic bag covering a m-80 which used to be present back in 90s. Tiddu thought he would drive bhoko’s Sunny and thrashed it to an electric pole.

    And then some one took a condom (one gifted to us on our 16th birthday!!!), blew it, and put it behind someone’s scooter, and they drove it away, wonder what happened next!!!

    Scene 7: Both of us went for back to back movies to R-World, it was strange and very rainy day and we were walking back. When we reached the highway, there was no auto, no tempo, no truck giving lift. We walked to the corner of the road to take a leak, I still remember the scene, lightening, empty roads, and everything very very wet. So both of us started emptying our tankers near a set of empty drums. He finished and started walking, I was about to and then something strange happened, someone screamed from within that pile of drums,

    “Kaun hai be, bhaag jaao”

    And he started running, and I followed holding my loose jeans, and we kept running and running (it was my first interaction with the supernatural and it literally took my pants off). We stopped after some 10-15 minutes and it was still raining loads. And then came a guy on scooter and offered both of us a lift. Was he a god, trying to save us from the evil?

    10 minutes later the scooter stopped, he asked us to push it, it didn’t work. We checked the tank and the petrol was over. No point now. Then he laughed and laughed. And then he and his Scooter started and whoosh he went. Both of us were scared, but we walked the next 8-9 KM and somehow managed to reach the beautiful DAIICT.

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    The post title is inspired from the Sudarshan’s classic Cycle ki Sawari. They were just my experiences with scooter, the best vehicle I have driven till date, adventures, racing, supernatural etc. Do you have any interesting scooter stories to share?

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    Featured image from my instagram feed

  • Katti and the Art of Bicycle Maintenance

    That thumb, the stupid angutha, the one which appears on Thums Up bottles and nowadays keeps fiddling with blackberry, goes near the incisors and gets itself a bite, and Katti is what is said post that. After every small or big fight katti was our way of expressing disgust, frustration and anger towards a dear friend. And then the friends stopped talking, started giving each other dirty looks, talked through some common friend, start going to different locations during lunch break, get in different teams while playing cricket, started sitting in different rows. But then that was the age of innocence, pyaarapan, so few days later one of them would always come and make up. It was all so nice, there was so much fun in katti. It also had other variations like Khi-Mi, and inti-minti, all similar in nature, but with different actions. Even Munnabhai came up with a differently named Jhappi for resolving issues, but he underlying concept was that of Katti.

    Today during a brilliant discussion on bicycle repairing we again discovered that bit of innocence, the tricks behind chain chadhana, the action which was required for filling air into the tyres, “puncture banwana”, the bhudak bhudak sound which came when the cycle repair guy used to dip the punctured tube in water, the rubber patch which he use to shine and polish and then stick it with a red adhesive, all for Rs 2.5-3.5. There was a simple and cost-effective solution for every bicycle worry and it was fun getting it repaired. Bicycle maintenance taught me that solving problems can be fun, lot of fun.

    Now when people fight, it is not as simple as the good old katti, it is much more complicated, or they make it unnecessarily complicated. Bachpan was certainly better, plus we had a fun-filled way to repair fights. Katti was our tool of relationship maintenance.

    The tool is out of stock now, and they have stopped manufacturing it. I hope they start making it again and even grown ups start using it.

  • The Times of Holi – Edition 1

    Sometime in 1996, somewhere in Chhattisgarh

    “Bhaiya kuch fugge (balloon) dena, arre yeh nahi, who paani waale”

    “Lo Beta, 5rs ke 100, rang wagera chahiye”

    “nahi bhaiya, who le liya, Thank you”

    Tomorrow is Holi time, this time it has fallen in between the exam, but we will play. Holi requires hell lot of preparations and we are all ready for that. I have my entire arsenal ready,

    • 2 packets of Gulaal– my favourite- Yellow and Violet, the weirdest of combos
    • 2 packs of water waala colour, 1 Solid (choti bottle), one regular in both red & green
    • This year I have given away with pichkari, no use, small streams of water are of no use, metal pichkaris as shown in Sholay are not good too. Me and my friends have come up with a set of plastic bottles, cut & twisted to form nice pichku devices with maximum impact
    • Fuggas which need to be made into chotu hand grenades filled with water color
    • A set of old clothes, the only festival in the world where o0ne wears that. Although on television nowadays they show people wearing Super White clothes on Holi I think it’s a stupid idea. Every year this was the day when we dispatched our worst clothes (mostly torn by EOD). Although one of my friends use to wear the same trouser every year for holi (something which I tried on later)

    I woke up early, and we did a small pooja at home. Post that I applied Parachute Nariyal Tel on my body & face and hair. A yucky feeling but its ok, as everyone says it will help in removing the colour later on. And then I move out of C-655 Kaveri Vihar.

    Apart from Patricks, there is no one else, so we put some gulaal on each other and moved to the row behind. This row has been amazing for my childhood, where I have played everything from Racetrip when electricity goes, to pitthul, kabbadi and obviously cricket. So we played holi here with everyone with our entire arsenal. All my grenades were transferred to a terrace and fired from there.

    Although as always there are two types of people everywhere, Good and Bad. We were obviously the good lot, and the bad ones use on Holi day are the ones who use Silver Paint, Grease, and play with even Gobar at times. Also they whistle and say bad stuff when didi log from our township go around on holi. All dirty people…

    After the first round we reload our arsenal and move towards Nucleus club where the whole of township assembles. Everything is arranged, from drums full of colour, pipes throwing up chilled water and water tankers supplying hell lot of it, holi style dhinchak music, jalebis and bhaijyas, my friends from all over the township, thandai (2 types, one for us, one for uncles with something called bhang in it which is like alcohol I heard). It ends with food packets.
    After playing for a long time, its back home and then the efforts to wash off the colours, and its bad if someone has put some paint or grease on you, bad people. Next day in school everyone would turn with pink cheeks and multicoloured hands. Holi also brings a lot of tiredness and a nice sleep on that day.

    Also the sad part is like Navratri it always either falls on sideline or in between an exam. Horrible timing for such an awesome festival, but I will always enjoy celebrating it.

    Never better than at Korba…

    This year I didn’t celebrate it after quite sometime, hoping this never happens again and keep on enjoying my favorite festival.

    Hope you have read the Navratri collection,

  • Another Kiddie incident

    Posted one long back on Kids. Today was time for another classic incident:)

    Words from a 6th Class Kiddo on the car backseat,

    “Virginity is a man’s gift to his wife”

    Couldn;t stop laughing for the next few hours, Gen Next/X/Y/Z/Whatever is really scary at times 🙂

  • कॉमिक्स और हमारा बचपन

    लुईस कैरोल की एलिस को कल्पना के उस अद्भुत संसार में जाने के लिए खरगोश महाशय के घर का रास्ता नापना होता था लेकिन मुझे (याने जब में बच्चा था) या मेरे जैसे कई भारतीय बच्चो को अपने घर के कुछ आधे किलो मीटर की परिधि में कोई सोनू या मनोज लाइब्रेरी ढूंढनी होती थी | उसके बाद तो बस अपने कल्पना के संसार में डूब जाने के लिए हम आजाद होते थे |

    नागराज, ध्रुव, परमाणु, भोकाल, तौसी, हवालदार बहादुर, बांकेलाल, चाचा चौधरी, बिल्लू, पिंकी, साबू और ना जाने कितने ही किरदार जीवन का एक हिस्सा बन गए थे | अब जब में पीछे मूड कर देखता हूँ तो यह सोच कर ख़ुशी होती है की भले ही चोरी छुपे या लड़ झगड़ कर भी मैंने कॉमिक्स पढ़ी है तो अच्छा ही किया है, वरना जीवन की ये यादें कभी नहीं बना पाता |

    जहाँ तक मुझे याद है कॉमिक्स पढने की खुमारी गर्मी की छुट्टियों में सर चढ़ कर बोलती थी | और कॉमिक्स खरीदना तो काफी महंगा सौदा था इसलिए लगभग हम सभी मित्र किसी ना किसी लाइब्रेरी के सदस्य बन जाते थे और किराए से कॉमिक्स ले आया करते थे | उन चौबीस घंटो के समय में सभी दोस्तों को एक दुसरे की भी कॉमिक्स ख़तम करनी होती थी तो बस फिर क्या कॉमिक्स लाइब्रेरी से ली और पढना चालू एक आधी तो घर पहुँचते पहुँचते ही ख़तम हो जाया करती थी |

    शुरूआती दिनों में जहाँ से मुझे याद है कॉमिक्स का किराया होता था पचास पैसे और डाइजेस्ट का एक रुपैया लेकिन हाई रे महंगाई बाद में किराया तय हो गया था कॉमिक्स के दाम का दस प्रतिशत याने ८ रुपैये की कॉमिक्स ८० पैसे में | कॉमिक्स न सिर्फ आपकी कल्पना शीलता को एक नया आयाम देती है अपितु व्यवहारिक ज्ञान में भी वृद्धि कराती है | जैसे आप देख ही सकते है की कभी न कभी तो आपने अपने किसी मित्र के साथ साझेदारी में लाइब्रेरी खोली ही होगी, और कुछ चव्वनी अट्ठनी का मुनाफा कमा कर खुश भी हुए होंगे | लो जी बन गए आप उद्यमी (entrepreneur) !

    लेकिन इन सब से बढ़कर बौद्धिक विकास में सबसे मददगार साबित होते थे मित्रो के साथ कॉमिक्सों पर गहन विचार विमर्श ! जी हाँ कौन सा नायक किस नयी शक्ति के साथ आया है, किस नायक को सबसे मुश्किल खलनायक से जूझना पड़ता था, यदि ये दोनों नायक साथ में आये तो ज्यादा अच्छा कौन लडेगा इत्यादि | बिना शक्तियों के दुश्मनों के मात देने वाला सुपर कमांडो ध्रुव मेरा पसंदीदा नायक हुआ करता था | और ध्रुव के खलनायको के ऊपर तो विचार विमर्श मैंने देशपांडे के साथ माइंड ट्री में रहते हुए भी किया था | उदाहरण के लिए चुम्बा, बौना वामन, चंडकाल हाँ लेकिन ध्रुव के दोस्त भी हुआ करते थे जैसे किरिगी, धनञ्जय, येती |

    अब तो कई सालों से किसी की भी सुध नहीं ली है | पर मुझे अभी भी यकिन है की ये सभी नायक अपनी जान की बाजी लगा कर आज भी विश्व को बड़े बड़े खतरों से बचा रहे होंगे और इसलिए आप भारत में या यूरोप में या अमरीका में चैन की नींद सो पा रहे है !

    A mail by my friend Kapil. I think so many of us would identify with the same. Plus I love his hindi writings (read a couple of his entries secretly in Bengaluru along with Mathuru ;)). Till he has his own blog, this one will be kept by me :).

    Also for my friends doing MBA, this is what a Dimdima should feel like, so maybe something like this would have determined your pitch for selling Dimdimas.

    Although this is a thinking of a kid 15 years back, things have changed now.

  • It’s Children’s Day …!!!


    It’s 14th November. It’s Chacha Nehru’s Birthday.

    HAPPY BIRTHDAY


    14 years back in history me as a standard 2 student would have been receiving chocolates packed along with Poppins, a Lollipop and Kismi all wrapped with a Parle-G at school. And there would have been a function celebrating the same.
    Nowadays don’t know what is happening with kids. I mean media covers everyday as some big thing but me completely out of sync with what happens in school on Children’s Day now. Radio stations cribbing on it all day along with all the news channels.

    Being a kid is not so easy anymore maybe. Right from peer-pressure (don’t know when that thing originated in India), padhai likhai ka pressure, affairs in school(things like stupid MMS DPS RKP scandal put us down) and the much talked about super-kid syndrome.

    But this is the story of kids who can afford to be super, for so many kids across the country it’s still a struggle for livelihood, making a living, saving themselves from crime, selling chai, working at homes or in factories. The recent bill on banning the use of Child Labour at Domestic and commercial establishments is a step in the right direction but it is more or less a Vicious Circle which I discussed here,
    Vicious Circle of Social Reforms

    Whatever be it there is nothing better in life than being in your childhood. I had a stupid discussion couple of days back with my friend on this and almost all seem to agree. Anyway its Children’s Day so all the baccha log enjoy.

    I am putting one of my favourite song’s up here for the occasion, from the 50’s Nehuvian style Raj Kapoor classic. Even Nehru loved the movie very much.

    HAPPY CHILDREN’s DAY!!!

    Technorati tags: , , Bollywood, Society

  • Vicious Circle of Social Reforms

    I came across this strange Geometrical figure in secondary school through an Ogden Nash poem on Visit to Dentist. These are the lines from the poem “It’s going to hurt just a little bit.”

    And this, O Fate, is I think the most vicious circle that thou ever sentest,
    That Man has to go continually to the dentist to keep his teeth in good
    condition when the chief reason he wants his teeth in good condition
    is so that he won’t have to go to the dentist.

    OGDEN NASH.

    The then figure became a reality for me when I visited one. Now my social ecosystem teaches me more about this bizarre figure.

    Mostly Geometrical objects vary as a function of Space. This figure evolves around both space and time certainly being n-dimensional in nature. And it maps itself to everything it could this time for instance mapping itself to social reforms.

    Child Labour ban couldn’t have come at a more appropriate place. The ban in hospitality and domestic work means 12 million kids between the age group of 5-14 get affected. No one can argue that the decision is wrong but India is prone to make decisions hastily and without thinking.

    Ok so the boy at nearby Chai Gulla or the girl working at your home will get released from the perils of child labour, but where do they go? Boy gets into drug peddling or goes join some small pick pocketing gang. Girl gets sold to join world’s oldest profession. And what happens to their families many of whom depend on the kids directly or indirectly for support. For some sections of the society still producing kids is a means of survival for the family. So another small circle lies there. What we get is Ring whose sphere of evil is not less than anything which was being practiced. This is a circle which pushes them from one profession into another defeating the cause of removing them from a profession in the first place.

    What happened last year when the so called immoral Bar Girl dancers in Mumbai (75,000) of them lost jobs? Most of them got into World’s Oldest Profession. Does that mean that the city became more MORAL? Everything good to remove the bad has loads of ugly to go with it. So what’s needed sometimes is to go along with the bad also as to suppress the ugly.

    So what do we do, let’s keep the kids working is what I am saying? Definitely not. As we all know rehabilitation package for a small bomb blast take years to get distributed so what are we expecting in case of 1.2 million kids involved. This is a circle of solving one problem and then not following up with the problem and taking it to the end. Something similar to distributing BT cotton and then keep the farmers dieing in Vidarbha due to production cost increase due to supplements involved and in turns losses- Of money and most of times LIFE.

    We as a society can’t expect to change so quickly everything. We should realize that in India still we are producing kids at a rate which is much handsome than BRIC countries growth prospects. Human Resources (uff that word reminds me of a person who syncs with nonsense, someone heading it) is something which can be nurtured for something better in future. So rather than imposing a country wide ban chucking states from child labour one by one and then carrying the model on a larger level would have helped.

    Anyway no Child Labour is near to impossible, just imagine someone saying you to go off your job one day and say that you are not allowed to work. It’s a job for them and if they don’t work who works? Social reforms leading to cutting down of working population…hmm. Then price of everything goes up and our circle takes a new path of inflation there. Already I and everyone sane enough are quite sick of growing prices.

    Finally I think I am just moving in a circle, usually I say a statement X and then follow it with negation of X. So let’s wiggle our heads to cut the circle and find the path out of this maze.

    As of now though we will keep orbiting…