Back in the 90s, rising population was a hot topic. “The rate at which India’s population is growing, it will overtake China in the years to come”, experts said. Unfortunately India wasn’t happy with this achievement. This was much before India had discovered a way to utilize its plentiful population.

Doordarshan, in those days the sole entertainment channel, joined the Government’s drive to spread the message of population control. And so happened a host of advertisements featuring condoms. While most of the ads made viewing television with family uncomfortable, there was one ad that I had started to dread.

It goes on like this.

A police wallah sees a man hiding something in his pocket and gets suspicious. The man hesitates to produce the thing when the policewallah asks him to. This makes him more suspicious and he decides to use force. The man gives into his forced request and offers a short view of the thing in his pocket- it was a condom and the man was too shy to flaunt the thing.

And there started my troubles.

In those days Nani had come to our place. Nani used to sleep with me. The TV was placed in such a way that both we (Nani and I) and my parents were able to see it from the other room.

Nani wasn’t able to see clearly because of her poor sight, but she would follow all serials and also advertisements. Each time this condom ad appeared on TV,  she missed just that part where the man gives a short view of the condom. And she would instantly question me what was in the man’s pocket. I didn’t know what to answer and I would somehow escape the question with useless bantering.

But the questions didn’t cease. This happened almost everyday. Since there was no fixed timing for the ad to appear, I started missing TV altogether until Nani went back to village.

I looked for the advertisement on Youtube but couldn’t. Maybe you can send me the link. Talking of old Indian ads, I came across this blog that features a lot of them. http://ddnational.blogspot.com/. Go through this and bring back the old memories.

Hardly had the train left Dhanbad Station that it stopped on the outskirts of the city.  It was around seven in the morning and people were just starting their day. As if to prove this, a large number of people were lined on both sides of the railway tracks, reliving themselves. Unable to resist the scenery and the smell, I turned my head towards the book that I had bought on the platform that day. Uninteresting as it was, it wasn’t able to contain my attention for long.

But my ears picked up a conversation between a woman and her husband. As the train had stopped, even the soft talk of this couple was very audible. In fact, this was not soft talk. The woman was complaining to her husband about her in laws. As if home was not enough that this woman had dragged her in-laws even to the train.

I drew this from a cover of Chandamama

“If you cannot protect me, you have no right to ask me to stay here”, said the woman.

“Hmm”, the husband said meekly.

“And don’t come to take me until you have shifted to another house”.

“Okay I will talk to mother about this”, the husband said.

“Oh your mother! I am not one who has been taught to disrespect elders, but it is your mother who is after my life”. Tumko malum hai wo hampar shaque karti hai ki ham tumpar jadu-tona kar diye hain.

“Arre shaque to bitiya Sita maiya ne Lacchman ji jaise devar par bhi kiya tha“, said an old man who was sitting in the same compartment as the couple.

“Accha! ye kab hua tha baba“, this was the woman’s husband, but his voice was no longer meek as before. His voice evinced his interest. Or may be he saw this as an opportunity to escape the battle that his wife was throwing him into.

Yeh tabki bat hai beta when Ramji decided to leave Ayodhya and make a living in the jungle along with his wife Sita and brother Laxmana. Once when Surpanakha, the sister of the Rakshasa king Ravana, was flying through the sky, she happened to see Rama. She had never seen such a handsome man and instantly fell in love with him. Coming down, she asked Rama if he will marry her. He expressed his regret saying that he is already married. Why don’t you marry my brother Laxmana instead? He said while pointing towards the direction where Lakshmana was busy making arrows. A look at him and Surpanakha’s love for Rama vanished instantly. She moved towards Laxmana with the desire to marry him. But he was not a man of easy virtues. Out of anger, he cut Surpanakha’s nose.

Accha! Tab toh Surpanakha bahut gussa hui hogi.

Arre siraf Surpanakha nahi beta; even Ravana was very angry. He instantly decided to teach the kids a lesson.

And he reached their hut. But before that he did two things. First he dressed up as a Brahmin bhikshuk and second he asked his servant Marich to disguise as a golden deer. When the golden dear passed Sita’s hut, she was instantly taken away by its beauty. She asked Rama to fetch it for her and she knew no reason. “I want that golden dear”, Sita said. And Rama had to give in to his wishes.

“Dekho us jamane me bhi pati log apni patniyon ke agey har hi jatey the“, the man said this to lighten up the mood. But the wife took this as a remark on her. She gave a ugly look at her husband and then turned her head towards the window.

“Arre ham tumko thorey na kuch kahey“, the man rushed to calm his wife.

But the old baba was not a bit diverted by this. He continued with his story.

To hua ye ki Ramji to nikal gaye sone ki hiran khojne aur bahut der bhi ho gayi. Here Sita ji started to get tensed. Just then she head a scream from the direction in which Rama had ran. This was actually Marich who had taken the form of a deer. He cried like Rama so that Sitaji can send Laxmana too to the jungle. This way she would be all alone and Ravana can easily kidnap her.  Yes, this was Ravana’s way to punish Rama and Laxmana for the thing they had done to his sister.

Meanwhile the man had tried to calm his wife. When she didn’t respond, he too had become disinterested and was looking outside the train. Baba had lost a follower but he didn’t stop his story.

When Sita ji heard the scream of Ravana, she started panicking.

“Laxman bhaiya dekho na jakar…lagta hai tumhare bhaiya ko kuch ho gaya hai“.

“Arre nahi bhabhi, don’t you know how powerful your husband is?”

“Still, I am afraid. Please go and check”.

“No, I cannot go leaving you alone. I have strict orders from Bhaiya.”

“You have orders from your bhaiya or you just don’t want to go. So that you can have me after his death”.

Bas Sita ji ne dil ched kar rakh dene wala ban chor diya tha. Laxman ji wasn’t able to say anything but a drop of tear fell from his eyes. He had never in his life hoped to hear such a thing from a woman who he treated more than his mother.

“Toh dekha na bitiya is tarah se Sitaji ne Lacchman Ji par shaque kiya tha“.

Bitiya didn’t even turn to acknowledge her approval. Neither did beta. Both of them were staring outside.

But Ramayan Path had to go on. I heard it until the part where Rama agrees to help Sugriva regain his wife and kingdom after killing Bali. Then my eyes gave way and I passed into dreams.

In the week of Makar Sankranti, it was almost customary for the rain gods to wet the coalfields. As temperatures dropped, people further draped themselves in woolens. Since blowers were unheard of, it was the old coal stove (coal was available in plenty) that kept the house warm.

Some creatures missed out on the warmth though. What made things worse was that this was their first winter on earth.

Football, Hunter’s daughter and now his wife, had given birth to five handsome puppies around two weeks ago. Their eyes had opened and even though I had put a barricade around their small tent that I had constructed for them, they followed their mother outside in the cold.

They were growing up and little did I know that misfortune was coming their way.

A mad dog has entered the colony – Mumtaz Chacha had come with the news in the evening, and other dogs were attesting to its truth with their continuous barking.

Dogs, suffering from rabies, become outcastes in their tribe. The disease spreads if the affected dog bites another dog. Dogs protect their territory and themselves with their continuous barking. The young ones are more vulnerable. Normally it is the mothers who would stay with the puppies to ensure their safety.

Although I had books before me, I wasn’t able to concentrate on studies. My attention was diverted each time I heard the soft barking of puppies from our backyard.

Papa had strict instructions for me to not go outside. Mad dogs also attacked men and the treatment involved fourteen injections in the stomach.

Although I feared injections, I couldn’t stop myself from secretly opening the back door to see that the mother-son group was safe. Each time Football wagged her tail, as if telling that she is guarding the fort valiantly.

As night drew, the barking of dogs didn’t cease. So did my concern for the puppies.

“Shall we not bring the puppies inside”, I pleaded to Ma.

Although Ma had a soft heart for dogs, she was a pious Hindu woman as well. There was a drain close to the puppies’ tent and they often fell into it. Each time I pulled them out of the drain, Ma would have me bathe in the open. The puppies weren’t potty trained and so couldn’t be brought inside the house.

“They will need their mother’s milk”, she gave an excuse. She was my last hope. I had little hope from Papa who had become apathetic to dogs ever since Tiger passed away (He lived with us for his full 14 years and I saw Papa cry for the first time when Tiger died of Pneumonia).

I wasn’t able to sleep that night. The back door was locked now and the key was under father’s pillow. A wall stood between me and the backyard. I brought my ears close to the wall and tried to listen to any sound. Ensuring that I don’t wake father, I made a sound. I was relieved when one of the puppies reverted with a soft bark.

Although I had planned to keep vigil the entire night, my eyes closed in the wee hours of the morning.

When my eyes opened the next day, Ma was standing next to my bed and looked very guilty but nervous. I knew instantly that not everything was right. I jerked off the bed and ran for the backyard.

The tent had been razed. I had constructed a barricade of bricks. It had been brought down and bricks were lying around a foot away. It looked as if a fight had ensued here. I pulled the tarpaulin to check if any of the puppies was not caught inside. There was none but I saw some blood stains on the tarpaulin. They were still fresh and it appeared that the mad dog had attacked around 4 o’clock.

Just then Deepak came with the news. Around a few metres away, he had spotted something white in the drain and suspected it to be one of the puppies. I ran towards that direction. Mother followed me with a stick.

It was really one of them. The mad dog had had his prey. His head had been torn of his body.

I began to cry holding mother. Just then another soft bark attracted my attention.

Football was standing some distance away, along with her four children. She had spent the last night under a staircase. Oblivious to all that had happened a night ago, the puppies were busy sucking milk from their mother’s nipples.

A smile returned to my face and I ran to embrace them.

Man swine flu death is here in Delhi.

Although Delhi had one of the highest number of swine flu cases in India, there were no deaths until now. But three deaths have already happened. Two deaths were of people who were related to employees of hospital treating Swine Flu.

WHO says that the desease has no co-relation with the climatic confditions, but I don’t believe. I have lived in Pune and I know that it is worst affected because of its cool climatic conditions. There were also some news report on the same. And I always feared that conditions will worsen in Delhi once the climate gets a little cool.

Waise masks or at least a hanky have become more common sight these days. A few weeks ago, there were not many people who were wearing masks or putting handkerchief to their faces. But as people became aware (earlier it was panic, thanks to the media) prevention methods have become more used.

I too have become more aware. I was going to buy a mask but news reports showed that it is only when one is going to a hospital. One day an interesting incident happened. I boarded a bus and just then I remembered to put on my hanky. I didn’t notice that an elderly man coughed a little. He got embarassed when I tied the hanky to my face. He thought I was suspecting him for swine flu.

I don’t think there is any need for embarrassment. People are just protecting themselves from the epidemic.

Did you know Facebook too is gearing up for immunity from Swine Flu. A new group has come up on Facebook called the FluFighters. The mission statement of the group reads “Prevention through Immunity”. So can we be safe from the disease if we have greater immunity. I too am trying to learn. I am already a member of the group. You too can join the Flu Fighters group.

This year Rakshabandhan will be a special one for our family.

My neice, who has turned one and half years now, would be tying rakhi to my nephew. Unfortunately both are in two different corners of India. So we are eagerly waiting for the good old postman to deliver the rakhi. The kids hardly know what is going on. Bhabhi was telling that Kukku, my neice, liked the colorful patterns on the rakhi and wanted to tie it to herself. My nephew is much younger to do even that. He will turn half an year old in the next month. I will post some pictures of the festival later. Here are the photos:

Rakhi

This Rakshabandhan is also special because for the first time we are purchasing rakhi. Every year, this was the time when I would feel myself unlucky since I didn’t have a sister. I would eagerly await the rakhis of cousin sisters. In those days, letters were not delivered to our home address. Everyday I woould pester father if there were any letters. While I liked the colorful rakhis, the small letter was what interested me most. The normal letters hardly had  any content for us other than “give love to Lal, Anupam and Aditya (me)”. But the Rakhi letter had more material for me and I would take special interest in answering them.

With time most cousins forgot that small routine of sending rakhis to us. Except for one. I remember to call her about the Rakhi. It hasn’t arrived until now.

And here is my nephew. Tell me how he looks.

Now that it is more than two weeks after this incident happened, I can now safely talk about it in the web. Lately I have disclosed this blog to my network, and I don’t want the person in question to find him being talked about in the public. Actually it is not he that I am going to talk about. Just using his case as a backdrop for today’s post.

Hua ye ki this guy (a colleague) appeared on a TV marrriage show…obviously to showcase his marriageability. But he flunked on two points, or did he?. First he diplomatically answered that if the bride’s side wants to give something to the girl, he won’t object. To this the girls at my office were very furious. How can he talk about dowry? That too on national TV.

Second (and the backdrop of my post) he said that his prospective wife will need to do purdah whenever there are elders at home. His parents lived in a different city and would come once or twice in an year. He had said this and everyone was like…hey he is so conservative.

And I was transferred into flashback when the same purdah or ghunghat had become a issue in my family.

A cousin brother, much elder than me, got married. The girl, a city bred, was never used to purdah. For the first few weeks, she was excused from this tradition on the ground that she was a nayi bahu. But the liberty was not for long.

One day my masi called mother. “Do you know she wouldn’t take ghunghat even before her father-in-law? I don’t know what to do?

Then someone talked sense to the girl. It’s difficult to challenge such age-old traditions. So she took the easy route. She practiced purdah whenever there were people from outside. At home, she continued her old habits. Masi agreed to this adjustment. At least partial victory for her.

By the time my elder brother got married, purdah system had become quite an obsolete custom. Yes, bhabhi had problems with touching every elders feet. How can I, without knowing who the other person is? She had point. But again a tradition was being challenged. So I talked sense to her. Why not touch their feet than enter into a conflict with your mother-in-law; my mother? She agreed, although the reason was a bit different. Each time she touched an elderly woman’s feet, the woman would compare her to her own bahu who didn’t practise the tradition.

My latest bhabhi would have wanted to keep a ghunghat, but cannot. It doesn’t stay on her head. Even during her marriage, it didn’t stay up there and her mother had to finally fasten it with a clip.

Coming back to the present now. Did you know the guy was a big hit on TV? According to a friend of his, his inbox was full of messages from prospective brides. Strange na, that girls are sending proposals to him although he was so conservative in his thoughts. Or because he wanted to find an easy way than challenge age old traditions.

Yes I am on the lookout for Content Writers. This is for my new organisation that I have joined in Gurgaon. So I would be preferably looking for guys who are residing in Gurgaon or closeby. Some other details about the job are given below:

Designation: Content Writer

Experience: 0-1 years

Job duties:

a) Basically your work will be in Social Media Optimisation (SMO) and Online Reputation Management (ORM). Check out the links for wikipedia to know more about these. They are quite new in India, and my organisation is one of the first agencies to work on this.

b) Also you may be required to write and edit content, articles, PR etc.

Qualifications:

BA (English); although I am very sure that good english is not the forte of english graduates. So anyone with good written and oral english may apply.

Salary: Actually best in industry. Take my word for this.

Those interested may leave their resumes at my email ID – ujjual dot aditya at gmail dot com. Or leave your resume with the comments.

What is common in “Agle Janam Mohe Bitiya Hi Kijo” and “Sabki Jodi Wahi Banata Bhagya Vidhata”? No it is not the longish titles of the serials. Neither is it that the entire plot is woven around the female kind. These are too commonplace nowadays.

What I want to bring to your attention is the serials’ Eastern Connection or more specifically the connection to the Hindi heartland of UP and Bihar.

While Agley Janam is a hugely popular serial aired on Zee at prime time, the latter is shown on Colors during the late afternoon show. Both serials have the Eastern states of UP/Bihar as their backdrop.

For the Hindi entertainment world, this is not a new phenomena though. Until the 80s, there used to be films with the lead actor or actress portraying a rustic character from the East. After that it was mostly city breds that got screenspace in movies. When that ended, it were the Punjabis and Gujaratis that ruled the entertainment arena. Thanks to them, the movies and serials moved from hand-to-mouth characters to those living in large palatial homes.

And now back to square one.

It’s not a spelling error. Feri-wallahs or hawkers are the talk of today’s post.

Gopalpura Colony, where employees from Eastern Coalfields Limited were housed, was about an hour from the nearest market place. Until a few shops opened outside the colony, the feri-wallahs were the prime suppliers for everything, from grocery to clothes to cosmetics to small electronic items.

The residents of this colony were affluent, thanks to the regular and generous flow of cash from the coal company. And while the markets were far, it were the hawkers who were making gold. At least a few deserve mention here.

How can I forget that Mihidana wala? He would come twice or thrice a week. Mihidana is a bengali sweet that resembles bundi or bundiya with the only difference being that it is relatively small, thereby getting its name (Mihi means small or fine in bengali). With a small aluminium vessel atop his head and brimming with yellowish-orange mihidana, he moved like a pied piper throughout the colony. Children followed him as he moved from from one locality to another, shouting at the highest pitch. Fifty paise was all you needed to devour on the sweet dish; yet it was not a very easy task to get even that small amount from mother.

Shanichra didn’t have to be so ill-omened to be named thus. Because he visited the colony on Saturdays that the ladies named this hawker of sarees as Shanichra. Thanks to him that the ladies didn’t miss out on any new fashion that hit this small town. Also he was willing to extend credit – thus many ladies who couldn’t have purchased one because their husbands had not yet received their salaries got a way out. Somesh’s mother would buy her favourite sarees and show it to her husband only on the salary day – he would believe that she purchased it only after his salary.

Once Somesh’s mother offended a hawker selling cosmetics. A teenager, he sported a goatee; but was mistaken for a Mohammedan instead. They were Ramzan days and she enquired if he too was observing Roza. He turned out to be a Hindu and the analogy to a Muslim angered him. But the other ladies soon came to the rescue of Somesh’s mother. “Hey, what’s the problem with being a Muslim?” And certainly the people in the colony didn’t feel otherwise. We would join the Muslims in their festivities. I still love the different types of halwas prepared for their festival Shab-e-Barat. Okay no deviation from the main topic, i.e. feri wallahs or hawkers.

As I said once in some post, my window was where most hawkers laid down there wares. A sabji wali used to visit from the nearby village. Thanks to her, our vocabulary was strengthened with a lot many vegetable names in Bengali. Kacha Kola (green banana), Lonka (green chillies), Begun (this one was not very different from our baingan or brinjal) and many more.

With winters came the Kashmiris with hundreds of wool patterns loaded onto their bicycles. Woolmark was unheard of; and so were readymade sweaters. Besides it kept women engaged. And when the Kashmiris returned to their homes at the end of February, their wallets were bulging with the profits they had earned during the season.

There were many more. The bioscope wallah caame once in a blue moon. Snake charmers were quite frequent though. There were also magicians. Can’t forget how they hooked their audience, especially small children. “If anyone of you will leave this place before the show comes to an end, your skulls will burst”. And even if it was unbearable to continue seeing, the children were not able to leave.

I think this is all I have for today on my nostalgic journey. Will talk about some more of these feri wallahs later.

There’s a good news.  I am not going to Bangalore now. I just got a job in Gurgaon, in a big online advertising agency, and so I am staying back in Delhi. Would be joining from this Monday onwards.

But there’s a new problem now. That of commuting daily to Gurgaon.

I have visited my new office twice and I took public transport. It took me more than 5 hours for the to and fro journey. Also both days it gave me a severe headache and partial heatstroke symptoms.

I have arranged a cab wallah to pick me from Mukherjee Nagar. Since it returns around half an hour earlier than my office timings, I will have to do my own arrangements for the return journey.

If you guys are in the knowledge of some cab or rideshare arrangement in my route, you can tell me through your comments. I will be really obliged.

Some more details of my trip are as follows:

Office timings: 9.30 AM to 6.30 PM

Source: Outer Ring Road/Wazirabad/Mukherjee Nagar, Delhi

Destination: Sahara mall/ DLF Phase I, Gurgaon

Work Days: Monday to Friday

Budget: 3000-4000

See if you guys can help me.