The ‘Sh’ Factor

Outside the Delhi railway station, I asked the Auto driver if he will go to Salimar Garden and his face glowed with a smile. Once inside the auto, brother told me it is Shalimar, not salimar. “But I said the same”, I defended.

This was my first day in Delhi and my tongue was hardly able to appreciate the difference between ‘S’ and ‘Sh’, thanks to the years of living in Bihar, a state best known for its rustic ways, popularised by its rustic ambassador, Laloo Yadav.

Delhi had separate tongue twisters for the different ‘Ss’ though. There was a regular S for words like school. Then there was an Sh for Shabd and Shubh. Also Delhites could rightly pronounce Shatkon, which is another S with a variation.

And that too without any formal training in pronounciation. Even we had all those variations of S when we studied the Devanagri script. But never did we learn to use them in our usual conversations.

This was paying off now. I was a laughing stock each time I told the DTC bus driver to stop at Salimar Garden. Once he told me not to maro so many sali (wife’s sister).

I have to do something with my pronounciation – I decided – like several thousand biharis who come to this place – only to make things worse.

Several days spent in twisting my tongue with the tongue twister : she sells sea shells on the sea shore. Irritated my brothers in the process. The end result was Shamoshe…ha ha.

In the end I gave up trying to improve my tongue, or rather using the different Ss at the right places.

However, other transitions were not as painful.

I quickly took up ‘main’ than ‘hum’ used at my place.

So “Hum ja rahe hain” quickly became “Main ja raha hun”. And in a bihari group, I could easily transition into the original version.

Thankfully I didn’t falter here like one of the jokes where a Bihari says “Hum hoon na” instead of “Main Hun Na”.

So proud had I been about my pronounciation – winning at least one elocution contest. The impression was shattered now. I used to make fun of Bengalis who would stretch words like forwaaard and backwaaard. Each time the Gurkha watchman would greet father with a “Shab ji”, I couldn’t help laughing (Unlike biharis who can’t pronounce the ‘Sh’, Gurkhas only have ‘Sh’ in their script). I would bully a Tamil guy almost everyday with ‘ille ille pon’. Also I laughed at a sardar boy for telling ’sakool’ instead of ’school’.

Now was my turn.

Chhath Pooja is being politicised. What about Ganesh Chaturthi or Dahi handi

MNS chief Raj Thackeray said yesterday that he is not against Chhath Pooja (after going against his earlier statement that he was opposed to the festival being organised by Biharis in various parts of Mumbai).

However, this turnaround on his last statement is on one condition – that Chhath Pooja will not be politicised. Mr. Raj Thackeray, can I know what do you exactly mean by politicising the festival?

Does politicising the Chhath festival mean alleging support or funding the festival?

If yes, I would like to show you a quote by one of your own party members during the recent Ganesh Chaturthi festival. Source: Indian Express

“Leaders across parties will be funding and supporting Ganesh mandals this year because elections are approaching. It is our festival and with the recent focus on the Marathi issue, it is a good publicity technique for the parties,” said Raju Palande, an MNS leader.

One more leader of your tribe says:

“We have put up five times more banners compared to last year. We have put up names and photos of local office bearers so that they can be recognised by the people. We are gaining in on the publicity garnered over the last six months,” said Andheri vibhag MNS leader Sandeep Dalvi.

What do you have to say on these Mr. Raj Thackeray?

I hope you will have answers ready to prove that this is not politicising. I think you will apply the same “son of the soil” alibi to save your face now; i.e. you can do such politicising of your own festivals because you are the son of the soil.

By the way, you seem to give more such illogical logics these days. Only yesterday you said this:

“When Lalu Prasad was the Chief Minister of Bihar, there were 1,200 murders. But, there was no demand to book him under NSA. When Biharis were killed in Assam, there was no uproar. A Goan minister opposed starting of a Goa-Bihar railway by saying that the state did not want more beggars. Delhi Chief Minister Sheila Dixit also spoke against people of Bihar and UP. But, only when Raj Thackeray speaks, there is a nationwide uproar and the Prime Minister has to intervene.”

Does murder and exploitation become legal if many people are doing it?

You really seem to be a maniac Raj? God knows when these political parties will be tieing your hands rather than just gaining political mileage of the situation.

My humble plea to all mumbaikars who have decided to do Chhath in mumbai is that they do not believe Raj Thackeray. Who knows what act of yours gives him the excuse of defining your act as political and he rampages your festival mood. May Chhath ma give him some sense and restore peace in Mumbai.

Delhi Blasts and Mumbai Meri Jaan

On saturday, Indian Mujhahiddin, the notorious SIMI in a new form, once again struck delhi with 4 blasts killing 25 people and injuring hundred others. 4 other bombs were diffused just in time.

Delhi Blast Suspects

we had plans to visit karol bagh that evening – fortunately, we decided to visit bhajanpura instead. a relative informed us of the chain bomb blasts when he saw the news flashing on TV. without wasting time and without panicking, we went to the parking lot, took our bikes, and returned home.

almost every channel was airing the same news. there was a chain blast at 4 different places in delhi. two places in CP, karol bagh, and greater kailash. at india gate a live bomb was detected just in time, averting a bigger casualty, as this was just near the children’s park.

it was heart-rending to see the plight of people who had died or were injurred. there was a girl who couldn’t walk because of injuries in her leg. there was a woman who laid dead just close to the pavement. the dustbin in which the bomb had been placed had completely come apart. there were people running with fear. there was blood all over the place.

i remembered suresh who works close to barakhamba road and often visits the central park that hosts cultural programmes in the evening. but all cell phones were jammed. I could reach him at 8. called another few friends who i suspected could be at the spot.

then once again got back to surfing channels. but i couldn’t move away from ‘mumbai meri jaan’ when i came across it on one of the channels. i had heard a lot about the movie (it has been rated 4 – rare in present times when the critics are too stingy in rating films).

mumbai meri jaan is the story of five personality types that emerge in a scenario as bomb blasts, communal riots etc.

Mumbai Meri Jaan

KK Menon – he heard about the bombings on television and has since come to believe that every muslim supports the terrorists and therefore it is the duty of common men like him to rid the society of muslims. until the time when an enlightened paresh raval enters the life of KK Menon. K K Menon understands that not all muslims are terrorists or supporters of terrorist activities. he makes friends with yusuf, a muslim youth he forever believed was a terrorist.

Madhavan – he has barely escaped death due to bombing of the train. had an insurance agent not insisted him to travel by second class, he would have travelled in the first class and would have lost life or at least a limb (as his colleague). he is so moved by the close shave to death that he forever fears being killed by another such bomb. He takes a taxi instead of commuting by train. He also plans to shift to the US since he believes it is safe. However, in a dialogue with a friend who resides in the US, Madhavan comes to know that no place in the world is safe these days (there was a world trade centre in one of world’s safest places- the US). he shuns plans to leave india. and once again begins commuting by train that he believes is more environment friendly than personal cars.

Soha Ali Khan – she has lost her fiance in the bombings. until this turn of events, she was a successful journalist who would cover similar manmade and natural calamities and yet the pain didn’t touch her a bit. but she is devastated now. for the first time in her life, she understands how difficult it is to deal with journalists trying to poke you for answers. However, time plays a better healer of wounds.

Irfan Khan – an ordinay man who has learnt to misuse the bombings to his advantage. a shopping mall ousted him for window shopping. he has taken a dislike for all shopping malls – and calls the police about bombs here – all hoax calls. he enjoys the pains the mall owners take to empty the premises and the loss of business for those few hours. until the time when Irfan khan’s pranks on shopping malls disturbs an elderly citizen so much that he suffers a stroke. he knows the vileness of his act. he cannot forgive himself until the man safely comes out of the hospital.

Paresh Raval – an average cop who is about to retire and as his last duties has been assigned to work on the mubai bombings case. he would have gone by the custom followed when any such bombings take place in india – book people from the another community and beat them until they reveal the names of others involved – then book the people named – hand them to the law which takes years to judge their acts before which they are again freed by hijackers at the cost of innocent people’s lives.

mumbai shows it is not frayed by the bombings. the mumbaikars come together to pray for the deceased and peace for the city by observing a two minutes silence. the entire city comes to a standstill for those two minutes. local trains, the life line of mumbai stops. so do passengers who stand up to show their support.

just then i remembered that deep lives at borivali and regularly takes a train to travel to and from office. as soon as i take up my cell phone to call him about his safety that i remember that i am watching a film – wake up aditya, this happened in the past – yaar, what am i doing? i didn’t know what happened to me – may be the film was really very touching or the fact that “it (one of those dead) could have been me“.

Operation Eunuch and the Murphy’s law at work

My neice is the result of several prayers – the entire family worshipped almost every god to bless my elder brother and bhabhi with a child. four years into their marriage and bhabhi had not still conceived. Finally, with the blessings of all the gods and one special person, our neice was born on the 8th of january, 2008 – a new year gift to our family. I devote this post to that special person and the related travails.

when brother talked about the problem to his colleagues, someone suggested getting bhabhi the blessings of a hijra. each such advisor has numerous instances supporting his suggestion; about how someone’s wife became pregnant immediately after she was blessed by a hijra. although this was very common for us, we didn’t see any problem in trying it for once. may be, it strikes this one time.

a hijra is a eunuch, who we come across very often dancing at public places with their characteristic clapping style. They can be found in abundance at bus stands, railway stations, markets, and near houses that have recently witnessed some good news like marriage, child birth etc.

but that day was different.

the four of us- father, mother, bhabhi and me – were out in search of a eunuch. the summer was at its peak and we decided to leave early in the morning to escape the sun. bhabhi had to eat nothing until we met the hijra. mother too didn’t eat anything (she strongly believes that she can win over god through penance). father and I didn’t feel like eating anything so early in the morning.

ISBT or kashmere gate bus depot is the closest from our home- also many eunchs can be found here. almost everyday they raid our bus and people have to give them not less that Rs. 10 if they want to save their face.

Thus, operation-hijra began at ISBT.

since the others would have done little than increased commotion, i asked them to comfort themselves on a bench while i went looking for a eunuch.

although i feared talking to a hijra and also there was some embarassment, i took the initiative.

i went to every nook and corner where they are generally found; near the public toilets (they stink), bus stand, and similar other isolated places. but they were nowhere to be seen. on that particular day, the hijras had done a complete disappearing act.

i once spotted a person who resembled a hijra, but didn’t have the guts to ask her. there were no visible symptoms to prove that he was a hijra.

are they on some kind of a strike? However, to the best of my knowledge, hijras or their association is not striking work; in fact they never have.

after half an hour of futile search, i came back to the place where my parents were sitting. it was already 8 and bhabhi was feeling uneasy with hunger. she was a bit angry when i returned empty-handed. she was pacified only when i informed her about the tight situation.

since our search was a little weird, we couldn’t also take the help of any other person. women though are quite adept at handling such situations. mother quickly gathered information from another lady sitting closeby, about the kashmere gate market where several eunuchs stay and can be easily found. the lady looked at us in a strange manner. god knows what mom said to her.

although i wasn’t sure of finding success, i had no choice. so we headed for our next destination. the kashmere gate market – majorly known for its auto parts market.

there were many fruit stalls around here and bhabhi started purchasing apples for her fast that fell the next day. she dropped her plans when mother asked to focus on the immediate task at hand. but soon her attention was diverted to nail cutters. mother decided to ignore her.

once again, i went out in the search for a eunuch while the others stood near the fruit stalls. father insisted on coming along.

No luck here too. after spending more than an hour with father, no hijra was found.

it was already 10 and the temperature was rising. also the place was unclean. so we decided to head for purani delhi railway station (old delhi railway station) which again is known to house hundreds of hijras. don’t believe me? just check on any of the trains originating from this place and you can find many of them. you will have to cough up as much as Rs 50 to escape their terror. they do embarassing acts. the only way you can escape their terror without any payment is when you are with family or there is a women in your compartment.

father insisted on taking a platform ticket. he is very strict about going by the rules.

One seldom visits a railway station except when he/she is travelling by train or receiving people from back home. and here we were for a completely different reason. thankfully, there was no compulsion to visit any particular platform.

everyone was drained of energy by now. while they relaxed on the bench, i left to unearth the hijras from their cover.

Before starting off with operation eunuch, i decided to make a strategy. since there are several platforms, i decided that the best way would be to keep moving on the flyover and move to a particular platform when i spot a hijra downstairs. However, the futility of the super strategy was exposed in three rounds of the flyover. i decided that it will be easier that i resume the search on platform number 12, which has the largest crowd. something within my mind said that i would surely spot a hijra here. and i did find one. but the things that followed will be forever remembered.

he was all alone (they normally operate in groups) and looked ready to leave after recovery. i spotted him when he was some 200 metres away from me. from his actions and clothes i was pretty sure that he was a hijra, and i started moving towards him.

since he was a little far and i didn’t want to miss this one last hope i started taking bigger steps now. to my amazement, the hijra too began moving faster. he had spotted me from the corners of his eyes and mistaken me for a police wallah or some local gunda planning to steal away his cash.

unable to match pace, i began running. the hijra too started running. until we were on the platforms, it appeared as though we were both running to catch the train. however, very soon it was clear that i was running after the eunuch. God knows what everyone would have been thinking. but i wasn’t embarassed. strange. i had the mission in mind and i was running to complete the mission.

because of the skirt he was wearing, he wasn’t able to run as fast. he was soon within my reach and i blocked his way. before he would have reacted in any other way (they are often equipped with weapons. or else, he could have shouted and assembled the public), i begged audience. i told him my purpose and he agreed to do the needful – his only grudge- why did i scare him so much. “you could have told me earlier”. “sorry” was what i was able to utter while breathing heavily. i had ran after so long

i came back to my waiting parents with the prized catch. everyone was happy. the hijra blessed my bhabhi and said that she would be mother to five sons. “no, i don’t need that many. just one would do”, bhabhi said. “okays your wishes will be granted”, the hijra said. strangely, he didn’t accept any money in return. before he left the place, mother couldn’t stop from asking him. “why is it that there are none of you visible today.”

he didn’t have an answer. but i had. The murphy’s law was at work.

Single in the city

sushmita bose of “single in the city” fame will not write for the column on hindustan times any more.

she announced her decision to quit the column (she is quitting her job with hindustan times) in her last to last weeks column.

it was sad to know that we no longer would get to know of the travails of sushmita in the big bad city of delhi. it used to be one of my favourite sections on sunday’s newspaper and i would never miss a single issue.

she was also my inspiration behind this blog, although it is not half as interesting as her section.

all the best to sushmita in whichever venture she is choosing next. i hope she has a blog where she will continue writing. Lemme assure her that i will be a loyal reader.

India’s internet story

When the US pioneered the use of internet as a part of a military project in 1958, little did it fathom that it will be such a big hit commercially as it is now. Today internet users account for 16.6 % or 1,093,529,692 of the total World population. Now that’s what is called a revolution.

Internet’s story in India is no less revolutionary.

Back in 1958, had one referred to the internet, he would have received the same blank glares as Aristotle would have when he first proposed that the earth is a sphere.

India took half a century to recognise the vast potentials of internet.

A bus service named Mayawati

do you know what people call the yellow buses run by UP roadways between ghaziabad, noida and delhi? mayawati. that’s because it was mayawati, the present chief minister of UP, who restarted the bus service between noida and delhi.

during the reign of mulayam singh yadav, the ex-chief minister of UP, the bus service between the two states was snapped. while those at the top were unaffected, it was the people who commute between delhi to noida and delhi to ghaziabad who were the worst hit.

My tryst with internet

it was 2001 and there was an unsent admit card that was vexing me. there were only a few weeks left for the exam and i had spent more than a thousand on the form. phone calls to the institute didn’t help. someone suggested me to email the concerned people for help.

email?? what’s that? when i was leaving for the cyber cafe, brother asked me to take some hundred rupees. may be they would charge similar to a STD call.

the cyber cafe wallah was too co-operative. from creating my first email id to sending my first mail, i did it all here. and all for just Rs 10/ hour.

Where is the civic sense in Indians?

if mumbai is infamous for its gang-wars, delhi rues about the rallies that are organised here almost everyday.

just a day after mayawati brandished her support with the crowd collected from all parts of northern india in delhi, BJP and akali dal decided to hold a rally of its supporters from punjab. so there was an entire punjab on buses, trucks, and all forms of vehicles on the roads of delhi. they had come here to pressurise government to waive off the loans to farmers. whether the government was moved by such pressure tactics is still unsure; however, this really brought traffic on the outer ring road to a standstill.

Delhi To Noida

“Where can i get a bus to Noida”, I asked this young gentleman on the corner of the road. Go towards the depot and you will know. The answer appeared vague that time, but i soon learnt what he meant. Naveda, Naveda – bus conductors were shouting at their highest pitch to draw in passengers to their buses in that typical western UP style. Barely had I disclosed my intention to go to Noida that i was literally forced into a bus. Route 347 runs from ISBT to Noida.

“What time will the bus start?”.

“8.15″, the staff answered.

“But it’s already 8.15.”

“That’s by your watch. In my watch, it’s still ten minutes to 8.15.”