Did we say it was a Monday?

Champa, our maid, simply ordered us to remain seated in the bed so that she can mop the floor without all of us flopping around. I do not know if maids elsewhere have the same habit of either talking to themselves or addressing someone throughout the process of their sweeping and mopping. In India, they do. Particularly if you have hired a Bengali housemaid, DBS comes as part of the package, whether you asked for it or not (for the uninitiated, DBS is Daily Broadcasting Service that doles out essentially unconnected news, randomized depending on the mood of the broadcaster, and aired whether listeners are tuned in or out). Today the broadcast was about mothering children in the 'modern, tech savvy world'.

And, as is perhaps typical of every mother, she complained about her fourteen year old son's addiction to smart phones. 'Chapat, chapat (indicating the key pad beeps his phone makes), chapat , chapat, all the time'.

'You know, he kept asking me every five minutes "mom, has it become alright?" throughout the other day when his phone had some glitch and I had given it for servicing. Till it came back, every five minutes it was "mom, mom and mom". Now that it is back, for the past two days, mom simply doesn't exist'.

The half hearted way in which she made the complaint brought smiles on our face. It was wonderful to feel the pride that her son was tech savvy and the 'loss' of attention he gave her before the smart phone arrived perfectly balanced in her tone. But that was not all.

Addressing my niece sitting on the edge of the bed, Champa continued.

'Look at my daughters. Twenty four hours (round the clock) it is cartoons and more cartoons on the TV. It is as though movies and other soap opera do not exist. Walking into my own house, do you know how I feel? As though I am a cartoon myself.'

I just couldn't stop myself. My niece was actually trying to avoid Champa's gaze. Giggling happily at the niece's cost, I told  Champa that she should repeat the last dialogue to my niece's mom.

'Why?'

'Because you are telling this to a person whose mom feels exactly the same way you feel about cartoons on TV' I said.

'Ooi, maa' she exclaimed the way only a Bengali can. 'Look at who I am complaining to'.

By then, the entire household was laughing. Can you ask for a better start on a Monday, I wonder.

What you do for a living?

I was on a short trip in connection with some academic work. It happened to be a town on the seashore and quite accidentally I stumbled upon a cottage on the shore at throwaway rent. Listening to the waves humming and crashing alternately just about 100 ft from your feet throughout the night is a spiritual experience. I had a blissful three day/nights and came back totally revived. But that is not what I was about to say.

Here was the 'owner' of the cottage - a man who controlled cable TV operations in that area, undertook contracts for civil works and in his own words 'dabbled in politics for safety'. An extra ordinary (please do not read as extraordinary) chap who could easily be missed in a lonely street!! He rides a cycle for commitments nearby, a weather beaten motorcycle everywhere else and owns three cars. Usually wears a plain white cotton shirt over a well worn pants that could have been purchased anytime after he started wearing pants. He never seeks to sit while talking to you and prefers to stand in a corner with hands folded like a humble domestic help. Incidentally, you do not get such 'humble domestic help' even in India any more!! While describing the local political situation, he displayed his excellent sense of humor - 'if you look up to politicians as great men who will change your destiny, you will only get heart attacks. Look at them as street comedians who have come to entertain you for five years and you will get a life time of laughter'. 'And free', he added for emphasis.

Then what about your political clout? I asked him.

'That is for safety, sir, safety', he laughed. Then asked me as to what do I do for a living.

As a matter of fact, particularly in the recent past, even I haven't thought about such a serious question - what do I do for a living? I became pensive, thinking hard and long as to what do I actually do. He waited patiently, perhaps expecting me to say that the last time the Tsunami struck India, it was me who was readjusting the tactonic plates or some such thing big. After a long wait, I told him that I write.

He looked at me without any expression first. Then he gestured the act of writing on paper with his hand. Looking at me quizzically now, asked, 'you write?'.

I said 'yes'.

'I understand' he said. 'Some people do take a long time to learn to read and worse, to write'. Adding on a consoling tone, he further said, ' do you know that I never bothered? So what if I cannot read or write. I do make a decent living. Nothing to worry, sir, nothing to worry'.

It was my turn to go further blank at his next question. 'So how much do you earn by writing?'

'Well, ok, that a few friends manage to read what I write and hopefully like it (for most of them choose not to say anything, perhaps for fear of hurting my fragile mind). It doesn't fetch anything, I tell you. I just get along by God's grace', I told him.

He shook his head in sympathy and asked me to pay only half the specified rent for the cottage.

I do not know whether writing pays or not. But I can tell you it can reduce your room rent by half. Have fun, write your heart out...   

For all those who hate science....

Reading a book that has been sent by a friend for review, I came across a statement he made: "Love is chemistry and attraction is magnetism". I was wondering if love is chemistry and attraction magnetism, can there be anyone in this world who can say he hates science?

My own experience suggests that this chemistry and magnetism can at times result in economics, biology, physics (please do not read it as anything else) and as the years go by, history. Who says physical sciences are distinctly different from social science and humanities!! I recall an instance when chemistry turned into athletics and spirituality.

Mohan (my FPG some thirty years before) and me walked into Kamaths wanting to catch up on breakfast. I took a seat facing the hotel's entrance and Mohan sat opposite but at an angle to me. We finished our dosas and called for the inevitable coffee when a young woman (don't expect me to say handsome. Perhaps this story wouldn't have happened otherwise) came to sit in the table behind Mohan, facing me. Mohan and me had a penchant for engaging in intense debates and I was loading my next torpedo into the tube in my mind when this young thing happened. The torpedo stuck in the tube and before long even I realized that I was ogling. Women in any case know it intuitively when someone ogles at them and here she hardly needed her intuition. And, in the processes of freezing on my tracks on my top floor, I had made a fatal mistake. I did not notice that she was accompanied by her father.

Realizing that I was 'stuck' and sensing the trouble rising behind him (literally!!!), suddenly Mohan got up, seized my elbow and before I blinked, paid out the bill in the counter, pushed me into the street and goaded me to pick up pace. It is only when we turned the corner and were well on our way back to the room that I realized that Mohan had actually saved my skin.

From chemistry to athletics to spirituality, reflecting on this 'history', I realize that sciences, humanities and spirituality are inseparable. No man can ever say with certainty that they are separate from our own lives irrespective of our likes and dislikes for a subject. Did someone say he or she still hates science?

Think again!!!     

Small Things in Life!!

There are a number of things which you can write about but what remains etched in memory are those that touch your heart. They could be from trauma to trivia or from triumph to temptations.

During our recent visit to Gangtok (Sikkim), on two days we hired the same taxi, an Alto, driven by Anup. He was Sikkimese, a Buddhist, bachelor and about 25 years of age. Contrary to the slit or small eyes, he had bulging big eyes, sported a scrabble on his lower jaw and a thin pony tail that resembled (pardon me, Anup!) a rat’s tail!! What made the impact was his easy going chitchat, friendly disposition and one of the most polite behaviors that I have experienced of cabbies.

He talked incessantly, pleasantly recounting stories of Sikkim and other trivia about the places that we were visiting. He always had something to say of a place that made you smile or say “oh!!!” He would choose to play songs that Sashank (my son) could sing along or Chitra (my wife) would say once more please!. He would hold the door for my wife to get in or out of the car. He would come out with wise quips on education, women, politics or as to why the younger generation must study and work hard to make their future.

When Chitra asked whether he was married he would say, “How can I, when my elder brother is still a bachelor? Ladki tak nahi dekhunga jab tak uska shaadi nahi ho jata”. On politics, “apna ghar achcha hona karke sochna nahi, sir, public achcha hona karke sochna hein”. The best was on Chinese goods,” MADE IN CHINA, EK DO MAHINA!!”.

He was only a cabby and received his payment for the tour that he took us around. But then, there are things beyond money that always manage to touch the heart. No job is great, until you manage to touch someone’s heart!!