I dream….

All of us dream something or the other, here is one such dream. A nano dream of a little Indian girl. No…I dream not like Nehru –the midnight dream, I dream not like Dr.Kalam of development and growth….I am just an ordinary gal dreaming for her country the ordinary dream. One of my unfulfilled Indian dream is traveling in a empty (with place to sit ) Air conditioned bus, sitting on a seat not hay stacked over metal wishing I travel again but that would be an utopian fantasy so lemme go on…I wish… there be a time when I would be waiting at a public bus stand with routes mentioned on a board, at least that the posters covering them over still steal a glance at the routes I want(selfish me!).I wish they go all out of the way to make the busses stop at the bus stop, at least somewhere near it. I wish…. people queue in to get into the bus….at least don’t pull me down when I’m trying to get into one. I wish our people learnt to care for others, the old, the young, the weak hearted(like me)….at least not stamp over me when I fall on the road while climbing into a bus, okie…forget that, at least SEE what they are stepping on—a living thing, one that’s extra-sensitive and would probably thank them for not spitting on her instead of on the road on which she fell down. I wish I would once in a while be allowed to get into the bus….I have never quite seen the inside of a bus in months, standing near the footboard and on lucky days being permitted to stand somewhere near the conductor’s seat. I wish…women wouldn’t get harassed while traveling in public transport, at least other women or the victim herself raise their voice against it.I wish…people don’t get adapted to harassment so as to say…”it happens” ,nope it shouldn’t be happening! I wish…there were a concerned lot who would offer seat for the old, pregnant and sick, at least don’t push them through every time they climb in and out.I wish…little boys stopped thinking its fun to cling unto window grills(they later grow to be the impressing romeos) and stopped jumping down a running bus—true it’s Indian style to adapt to over-crowded busses and saving time getting down where you want. In fact there are many wise souls who justify this as efficiency increase—decreasing waiting time, increasing freight and even in the worst case decreasing population. On the other hand it would do good to develop some patience and take calculative risks. I wish…school gals learnt to flatten me up instead of my toes,that ache and smell after being autographed by their shoes. I wish….schools considered the space school bags alone occupy in public busses!!!I wish…then men learn to hold while satnding in the bus(wish they had been taught the law of inertia at school) and not fall right over the pretty female scarred to death already. I wish one wouldn’t be given vitriolic speeches for not carrying the right change. I wish…busses would no longer be the school to learn the perfect swearing words. For aeons people have been justifying this humility called traveling by public transport with a number of reasons—the cheap cost, country’s population and worse a mention of the starving million who wouldn’t even dream of traveling in such a bus(sure they are sensible).Infrastructure investment especially in public transport would go a looong way in feeding the starving millions and meanwhile some of us can live with grace and peace of mind. You can say it’s a small wish but in it lies a HUGE change! Developing a little common sense, a little care for other beings, learning to be polite, making the right decisions, being a bit more responsible and far more making yourselves proud of your country and its transport. Well….its just a wish, at least I wish director Shankar considers me for his next project. whatdya say?

Instilling fear…!

Among the species that inhabit my neighborhood is a little girl, the young one of a homo sapiens with qualities inherited from an ape ancestor. Having been 1 year since it landed on this side of the solar system it now has began what I had been dreading most…walking first into my house and then into my room! Having now been blessed with the independence to choose her visit to my place, she perpetually lives here. By the way I am no hater of children…so much that I love kids a lot. But the problem here is the clash of objectives of 2 kids-one within and the one outside. Objectives here literally means ensuring my helmet is not transformed into a bucket (worse a water closet),my keyboard not being made a surfboard and the burden of my bookshelf not being shifted to the dustbin. She leaves her trails everywhere…my torn record, the colour splashed walls, opened up every Pandora’s box like my cupboard where all the skeletons have been hiding. It was at one such clash that I discovered the powerful weapon to control her, and as I came to realize probably control anyone else! The weapon of “the fear for the unknown”.In her case the “patcha”(might rhyme similar to badshah but has nothing to do with him)!The “patcha”,the Malayalam word for cockroach. She was awe-struck to see this omnipresent and similar species(J).Being surprised initially by its flight when she tried to catch it, I made up this story about how it grows in size everyday if kids didn’t listen to elders(read: me).With a little exercise of her imagination, to this little girl it began to mean something close to giant sized two tusked creature that walks through my home invisible until little kids stopped behaving themselves. It goes beyond my memory how I convinced her of such an existence but this little one who once walked the planet unmoved by fear had for the first time sowed within her my strange card of control. Though she didn’t change overnight, it gave me a sadistic pleasure to watch her look at me every time she climbed on my laptop and then say…”patcha?”.If I nodded, she would hesitate for a second, then climb down and run into my arms and open her hands to mean…BIG patcha. My mom resented me scaring up a poor little kid with wild stories and my dad insisted I tell her that they are no such things .It set me thinking….like when I was made to fear the darkness with wild stories of demons. Initially there were the white dress clad, long haired, Colgate teethed, funny creatures from Chandralekha,then they invaded all life on earth-snakes, lizards, none were freed. Even when you realize at some point that those ghost stories and the ghost movies that caused some certification of their existence were but animated deceit, doesn’t it still scare you when you walk alone at midnight through a deserted road. Consider watching a movie at 12 midnight unaware of the storyline when someone tells you it’s a horror movie…every scene from then on would set our heartbeat setting new records. All of us fear something…darkness, semester, commitment, crowds, and every often ourselves. In agent smiths terms-“deceit of perception”. Though most fear comes from within, a lot of it is instilled into our mindset externally. Hasn’t someone or the other at some point of time been sadistic enough to make of stories about paranormal “real” happenings. Then they made us fear fear..blame “darna mana hai”.Fear is the genesis of all evil, a depressant, a handicap to take on life’s endeavors. I am wondering if should break it on her, she’s been asking me to misbehave so that she can catch a glimpse of the “patcha” eating people. Phew! wish I asked that as a kid, wouldn’t have grown up to be this scared. Even as I am typing this I receive an mail, one of those spooky messages with a video of a ghost in motion. She’s asking me what it is. My dad was right I needa tell her about the non-existence of the giant patcha…atleast so until spielberg rediscovers it. As I desperately forward the mail to foes and friends alike,I’m thinking if patcha has found its successor, wouldn’t hurt much would it? Atleast I wouldn’t feel like I made it all up myself!!!!