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Ahmedabad’s Not Happening

The following is an extract from I Am Ahmedabad, a collection of short stories

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Sabarmati flowing bank to bank; if only it could happen a couple of years earlier!

You know, this is almost a symbol of things. Here even the river with seven bridges is dry. Dry, that’s the word for Ahmedabad.

Yeah right, so why don’t you go back to your goddamn south Mumbai? Ahmedabad’s not happening, my foot!

Two years since, I still remember every detail of that last fight with Ritu. Though, time has ensured that thoughts about her no longer make me sad. I guess now they just add to the emptiness. Sounds funny doesn’t it, the more thoughts I have the more empty I feel!
Luckily, in our city people talk loud enough to shake anyone off his thoughts. And so did, what seemed, a newly wed couple while passing me by. I think I clearly heard the guy complain to his partner:

Badhi waar maarej kyam sharuvaat karvi pade chhe? Kyaarek tu aagad wadhi ne mane kiss nathi kari shakti? [Why is it that it’s always me who takes the lead; can’t you at times take charge and kiss me?]

You either want it or you get it. You can’t have both. I can never forget the day when my relationship with Ritu was, quite literally, sealed in public. Hugging a friend as a greeting was the norm with our group at CEPT, especially when meeting someone after a longish period. I’d just hugged Neha and Mamta and was about to hug Hanif when, suddenly, Ritu came from nowhere and kissed me full on my mouth. Amidst loud cheers and Ritu’s wicked grin, I was clearly at the receiving end of wits.

I thought today’s a nice day to go official with our thing – Ritu couldn’t help hide her glee on catching me off-guard.
Coming merely an year and a half after my falling for her from day one, I thought it was a bit too fast for me! But I guess she’d not only heard the first thud but had also come to know me well by then –

I don’t think you were ever going to do this, were you?

Of course not, you must be kidding! If only I could say even that much. But it wasn’t necessitated. Our thing was already, as she’d put it, official.

Unlike me, Ritu wasn’t unanimously popular at CEPT. Maybe because I was just a regular sports guy and kept my talking to a minimum while Ritu was the quintessential ‘you know, I think…’ kind. Now when I think about it, I suspect it might also have been because she never believed that she was ever going to stay back in the city.

Oh, the couple, by the way, has stopped just a few steps away from me, laughing, at some joke I guess. Seems they have already made up. They must be coming here everyday to share some togetherness away from the family. Whatever. But they look contented by the way they walk away, holding hands.

Thinking about me? [Ritu SMSes during a lecture]

Feel like having a walk out in the rain holding your hand. [I reply, thinking that was the first time anyone had ever told that to his girlfriend!]

Why do you always get stuck at holding hands? 😉

What have you got against holding hands?

Nothing, except that by the time your hand reaches my shoulder, it would be time to get married. 😉

So?

So… then if we are in Ahmedabad, we would be sitting on a bridge or at a roadside paav-bhaaji stall or a multiplex, like one boring married couple. And yes, we would be holding hands ….

Things were getting increasingly agonising. Can’t spend the evening like this. I rush towards my Maruti 800 and almost dangerously start speeding towards Escape, the only discotheque worth its salt in the town. It was a favourite with Ritu. She had made weekends at Escape a habit for both of us. You should’ve seen how completely at home she’d felt amidst the disc’s partly global and largely ‘me too’ populace. But then, she’d felt comfortable even with me! All thought and dismissed, even I used to look forward to the weekends. Ritu’s company and music the way I like, loud, was a heady concoction.

But today it’s feeling so different. No satin to hold on to, no fragrance to breathe, no nectar to fill my years and no bliss for my lips. Today it is just a crowded place playing music that bounces off your ears. I look around to find a friendly face, in vain. Even the in-house DJ has changed.   Back on the highway: I can’t help but think about the mails that Ritu and I have exchanged since our resolve to go separate ways. The last one was special. It carried the memoirs of our first date anniversary at the Science City, about 4 years ago. We had celebrated the day with the first ever show of an IMAX movie in Ahmedabad. The mail also recollected how she had first talked to my mom that day. And how we had almost broken off after I’d refused to streak my hair, in spite of her million requests.

And then suddenly the car engine stops humming – right in the middle of the bridge over Narmada Canal. I give a few futile shots to the ignition key. Damn! I get out of the car and kick the front wheel in despair. Not by any stretch of imagination, does it feel like the day when Ritu and I were stranded here three years ago. Of course, when you are in love, even getting stranded on a highway seems romantic. That day, we had walked down, along the side of the Canal. Those who’ve been to the Canal would know how the place hosts a few couples every hour of the day. As we walked further down, we crossed one oblivious couple after another, hugging, kissing and at times getting a little naughty.

When in Rome, do as Romans do. I clearly remember an excited Ritu’s nervous urge.

We went to the place many times after that. In fact, gradually we had found out all the possible places along the Sarkhej-Gandhinagar highway for a little intimate rendezvous under stars. But after tiding over the initial Everest of hormones, car breakdowns had become dangerously close to heartbreak.

There goes Ahmedabad’s favourite car again.

In those early days, I was too much in love with her to give any thought to such comments from Ritu. But soon, her contempt for anything Amdavadi became the crux of disagreements between us. And before we knew, heated exchanges had become a daily affair. Till we had that final big fight.

Pushing a car on a desolate, non-lit stretch of highway while thinking about a lost love, wow!

One look into the bonnet when under a street lamp and I realize that it is the same old carburetor. 11:30 PM, the car stereo clock tells me. Cursing my luck, I get down working on the darn thing.

It’s 12:30 AM. Moments ago I’d brought an end to a torturous evening. Not wanting to do anything is one thing and doing what you do anyway is quite another. So I get down to checking e-mails. Sure enough, I can see one from her.

Two years and 3 ‘happening’ boyfriends later, I’ve realized that while Ahmedabad used to invite me everywhere, Cuffe Parade wouldn’t Have … if I were different…. like you.  And the truth is, after living out every fantasy, I’m finally becoming like you. I know I am … because my friends tell me that I’m no longer happening…

… I’ll be in Ahmedabad this Navaratri, wanting to start a new life for myself. Will you come to receive me … with that ring?

God! I immediately go for my trouser pocket; and take out my wallet. Yes, my God yes, it’s still with me. I had forgotten to throw the ring in Sabarmati today.

Phew!

Categories
Writing

Tumhe mere doodh ka vaasta, lauta doh mujhe mera raasta

With the Gujarat high court getting tough on stray cattle on roads, Jignesh’s, Jigna’s, hamari, tumhari and the nation’s mataa is left with no option but to appeal for her rights to form colonies on roads. She gets furious as she talks of all
the things that she had to do to raise us all Amdavadis.

Moo! Myself Bhuriben Chavvawala. And I am writing this to let you all know what a piece of flea-caught-in-a-dry dog-pile you are. After living at our mercy and on our milk, chhaas and cheese on pijjha, you have the cheek to throw us out of our home? I don’t know about others, but you’ll have to have a clear road over my dead body. For I ain’t going anywhere. Have you forgotten, “gaai hamari maata hai, road pe unka khaata hai?”

I was born right on this road. At 2 in the night, when my mom was crying in agony, one of you had thrown a stone at her, asking her to shut up. Do you know that the stone had actually hit me? At 2 in the night, seconds after my birth? Even though I could barely understand her – come on, I was barely born – my mom had told me plainly, “road na kutra aney lokon na pathra thhi hamesh bachi ne rehje”.

At least dogs know why they bark at us all the time. I mean I hope they do; because I’ve never been able to understand why they just keep on barking and do nothing more.

Anyway, they bark at us for territory issues or they play the dogs that they are; but what is the issue with you people? What is the issue between you and me?

You don’t want to live on the roads, do you? And as for traffic, after acknowledging for decades, our contribution towards saving on the cost of speed breakers and road dividers, why have we suddenly become a nuisance? And did you say nuisance? Saala nakhkhotia, taaru satyanash thaai. Maney nuisance boley chhe!

Carl Lewis had once said that more than the Taj Mahal, the thing that he liked was the way his car had to be stopped every other then because of cattle on the roads. I say, bring him to Ahmedabad. Make him stay at Taj Ummed and ask him to cross even the airport circle to reach the airport. I’m sure he would never want to go back only. In fact he would call Michael Jackson also. All that foreign exchange only because of us.

But that would require a little foresight. Something that you people don’t have. Have you ever realised that unless you make alternative arrangements, all the Amdavadi roads would become one garbage box full of plastic bags? Who would clean them if we don’t eat them? If you want we can give milk directly in pouches.

I don’t know anything. Either think of it as interest on my milk or my plain challenge. Either agree nicely or I know how to MOO you.

Categories
Journalism

Heard of the Right to Information Act?

We’ve heard the noise alright. But have we heard the voice? Here’s a snapshot of the RTI act,  a right that our parents never had. We would have no else but us youth to blame if we don’t make use of it to make a better Ahmedabad, a better India.

What is Information?

Information means any material in any form including records, documents, memos, e-mails, opinions, advices, press releases, circulars, orders, logbooks, contracts, reports, papers, samples, models, data material held in any electronic form and information relating to any private body which can be accessed by a public authority under any other law for the time being in force –  Section 2(f)

What is a Public Authority?

“Public Authority” means any authority or body or institution of self- government established or constituted —
(a) by or under the Constitution; (b) by any other law made by Parliament; (c) by any other law made by State Legislature; (d) by notification issued or order made by the appropriate Government, and includes any — (i) body owned, controlled or substantially financed; (ii) non-Government organization substantially financed, directly or indirectly by funds provided by the appropriate Government

What is the application procedure for requesting information?

Apply in writing or through electronic means in English or Hindi or in the official language of the area, to the PIO, specifying the particulars of the information sought for.

Reason for seeking information are not required to be given; Pay fees as may be prescribed (if not belonging to the below poverty line category).

What is the time limit to get the information?

30 days from 30 days from the date of application; 48 hours for information concerning the life and liberty of a person; 5 days shall be added to the above response time, in case the application for information is given to Assistant Public Information Officer. If the interests of a third party are involved then time limit will be 40 days (maximum period + time given to the party to make representation). Failure to provide information within the specified period is a deemed refusal.

What does Right to Information mean?

It includes the right to – (i) inspect works, documents, records. (ii) take notes, extracts or certified copies of documents or records. (iii) take certified samples of material. (iv) obtain information in form of printouts, diskettes, floppies, tapes, video cassettes or in any other electronic mode or through printouts. – Section 2(j)

Who are Public Information Officers (PIOs)?

PIOs are officers designated by the public authorities in all administrative units or offices under it to provide information to the citizens requesting for information under the Act. Any officer, whose assistance has been sought by the PIO for the proper discharge of his or her duties, shall render all assistance and for the purpose of contraventions of the provisions of this Act, such other officer shall be treated as a PIO.

What can one complain about?

The Central Information Commission (CIC) is an autonomous body set up to inquire into complaints received from citizens. You can complain that you have been refused access to information. You can also complain about how the public authority has handled your request, for instance: (i) failure to respond to your request within 30 working days (or failure to explain why an extension to the 45 days is needed); (ii) failure to give you proper advice and help within the stipulated time (iii) failure to give information in the form in which you asked for it (iv) failure to properly explain reasons for refusing your request, for instance if the public authority believes that giving you information would harm a criminal investigation.

What is the fee?

Application fees to be prescribed which must be reasonable. If further fees are required, then the same must be intimated in writing with calculation details of how the figure was arrived at; Applicant can seek review of the decision on fees charged by the PIO by applying to the appropriate Appellate Authority; No fees will be charged from people living below the poverty line. Applicant must be provided information free of cost if the PIO fails to comply with the prescribed time limit.

For all the information about the RTI Act, please visit http://rti.nic.in   www.righttoinformation.gov.in

Categories
Journalism

Adalaj’s WOW … err … VAV!

Every time we take the SG highway and turn left – just before the bridge – to go to R-World, we fail to realise that turning right at that moment can take us to one of the most magnificent heritage structure of the nation. Want to try the next time?

By now, we’ve learnt one thing – that this page is one of the most loved page of League. Probably, it takes you to places that you’ve always wanted to go; but could not go because of pressing business. We say, take the first step and before you know, you’ll be on a life long journey with life.

This month, we take you to Adalaj, a sleepy village, 19 kms from Ahmedabad and 5 kms from Gandhinagar.

There are about 120 vavs or step-wells spread across Gujarat. However, the vav situated in Adalaj is clearly the most popular one with tourists from far and wide. The Adalaj vav is in fact a na vav, literally meaning an upside down architecture of a step-well.

The legend behind the origin of this step-well is as interesting as its architecture and is shrouded in beauty, romance and tragedy. In AD 1499, the area around Adalaj was known as Dandai Desh and was ruled by Rana Veer Singh of the Vaghela dynasty. Around this time, Mohammed Begda, a Muslim ruler of a neighboring state attacked Dandai Desh and killed Rana Veer Singh. The beauty of the slain king’s widow, Rani Roopba, enamored Mohammed Begda who sent her a proposal of marriage. The heartbroken but determined queen agreed to the proposal on the condition that he complete a five-storied step-well (vav) for her. The Muslim ruler, enticed by the charm of the queen, readily agreed.

The construction of this well had begun years ago under Rana Veer Singh but had to be stopped later. Begda resumed this project with great enthusiasm and got the well completed in record time. When this five-storied edifice was completed but for the dome, Begda renewed his proposal. The next day, Roopba took a round of the well and saying a final prayer, flung herself into the water and drowned.

In the vicinity of the well are graves of the six masons who were instrumental in erecting it. It is believed when Mohammed Begda asked them if another vav was possible, they replied in the affirmative. This proved to be their undoing and they were instantly put to death. Perhaps that is why the Adlaj step-well stands unrivalled till today.

Mohammed Begda immediately stopped further construction but did not get the monument demolished probably because Roopba had employed Muslim masons who had decorated it with Islamic motifs. The incidents, which led to the erection of this unique well, are detailed on the walls and pillars of the vav in Sanskrit and Pali (an ancient language).

The Adalaj Vav is a classic example of the Indo-Islamic style of architecture and has features of both the styles. The intricate floral patterns, which are a part of the Islamic style, can be seen in harmony with Hindu symbolism, which includes depiction of animal and human forms.

Built entirely of sandstone, one can enter into this step-well from three sides, which consist of octagonal andings with huge carved colonnades and intricately carved niches.

The main attraction of this step-well is the pool of water at the lowest level. Besides this, there is a niche here that houses an ami khumb or a pot that contains the water of life and a kalpa vriksha or a tree of life made out of a single stone slab.

Unfortunately, there is only as much that you can write about a place as magnificent as this one. We say, take your 2-wheeler and hit the SG highway.

Categories
Writing

Relations are Mere Relative Descriptions of Emotions

What do we mean by the term ‘relationship’? Or by its parent term ‘relation’? Does the meaning of either derive itself from concrete scientific explanation or do the terms reflect the ‘evolution of societal nomenclature’ over a period of centuries? Importantly, how flexible are the terms?

From ‘are you in a relationship’ being the question of life and death for a teenage boy chatting with a girl of his age on Internet, to ‘aakhir tumhara uske saath rishta kya hai’ being the bread and butter line of all Hindi film script-writers of yesteryears to a more universal ‘worsening of relations between the two faiths’ because of war on Iraq, we are surrounded by a stream of consciousness that has a central role for this all-encompassing entity called ‘relation’ or ‘relationship’.

Keeping aside Einstein’s theory of relativity and all things scientific, let’s think aloud about what do human relations stand for?

Oxford dictionary defines ‘relation’ as ‘the way in which one person is related / connected to another’ and ‘relationship’ as ‘state or instance of being related’. However the interesting one is the description of the   colloquial usage of the word ‘relationship’: ‘emotional (including sexual) association between two people’.

There you are – the modern, colloquial expression equates ‘relation’ with ‘emotion’; thereby reflecting the gradual, but definite, evolution of every aspect of human life, including its meaning itself.

Whether we consider human life to be a gift by God or we go by Darwin’s theory of evolution, one truth that emerges is that the early humans – of a particular geographic location – would have formed groups on the basis of both emotions and functional needs. The rugged ones would have formed a group and would have gone together for hunting and then later distributed the ‘booty’ to others. And so would have started their living together. Either by might or sheer attraction of their physicality, women would have later joined the ‘family’. Brothers, sisters, in-laws etc were not a part of the early vocabulary. Well, when there was no language itself, the question of nomenclature becomes redundant for that era  anyway.

‘Kinship’, another term for ‘relation’ in western societies, and defined as the most basic principle of organizing individuals into social groups, roles, and categories, was originally thought to be determined by biological descent. But American anthropologist David M. Schneider in his work on Symbolic Kinship (1984, A Critique of The Study of Kinship) had challenged that assumption. He had claimed that while anthropologists had founded the domain of ‘kinship’ on the notions of human reproduction and the biologically-defined-relatedness of their own Euro-American culture, human reproduction and notions of biological relatedness cannot be presumed to structure people’s social relationships in other cultural contexts.

In other words, ‘kinship’  may not stand for the same thing in different cultural contexts!

What explains the uniqueness of ‘relation’ with respect to a culture subset is ‘ Kinship terminology’. It  refers to the words used in a specific culture to describe a specific system of familial relationships. Translators usually find it impossible to translate directly the kinship terms of a society that uses one system into the language of a society that uses a different system.

What else is a relation – except and only except between parent(s) and child – but an emotion or expression of that emotion?

And yet, how many times have we heard that when the son grows big enough to wear his father’s shirts, the father should start treating the son as his friend? It is even more pronounced for women. The moment a girl hits puberty, her mother almost instantly becomes her biggest ‘friend, philosopher & guide’.

Functions change; thereby bringing a change, first in emotions and then in expression of those emotions.

For example, in Sudan, no two relatives share the same term. While in Hawaii, they classify only in terms of sex and generation. So, grandmother-grandfather, mother-father and brother-sister are the only names for everyone else in the family.

Clearly, if every woman of my parents’ generation is called ‘mother’ by me (as in Hawaii), there’s not much of biology involved there, right?

One can argue, and naturally so, that whatever might be the logic, biology is involved between me and my mother after all.

Yes there is, but unless you substitute a polar bear with a royal bengal tiger, even a mother would not be able to tell between her own two-minute old baby and some other baby of the same age and gender. So, if Kishore Kumar were replaced by Anup Kumar (if they were of the same age), both the ‘altered’ set of mother-son duo would have gone ahead with life the way they eventually did!

Often, the difference between the bond amongst ‘related people’ and strangers is measured in terms of the ‘acceptance of obligations’ – towards each other –  by the ‘related’. “The more I owe you, the greater we share” seems to be the whole idea. Is that how life was meant to be?

One thing that ‘relations’ do is add a sense of obligation between the ‘related’. So, even if giving respect to age does not come naturally to you, you give it to your parents because you ‘owe your life to them’. Considering how many old-age homes are springing up in Ahmedabad and elsewhere in the nation, one would assume that the obligation theory is not working too much, eh? Or the fact that parents / elders can still be seen living with their children / youth is actually a testimony to the strength of the ‘obligation’?

Hope that is not the case. Because if that were the only reason for living with our parents and / or ‘relatives’, then this world could hardly be expected to last too long. How far can an universally unhappy and compromised world go anyway?

I live with my parents because I like to live with them. So do you. We of course owe our life to them. And hence it is our ‘duty to look after them’. But it is not the reason for my love for them. I love them for what they stand for. Just as I would love your parents for the values that they stand for. If I can call both my parents and my wife’s parents ‘mummy and papa’, why on earth should I not call any and every elder by that name, if I feel like? I don’t owe my life to my wife’s parents. I won’t be owing my life to your parents too. But I can still see the ‘idea of mummy-papa’ in your parents. The birth of that idea of mine in your parents is what ‘emotion’ is all about.

Yes, every relation is basically about emotions that every human carries for the fellow humans. So, what’s the fuss all about?

Categories
Journalism

Real Worth of a True Self: Anna Hazare

Army Truck Driver Kissan Babhurao Hazare

You last heard him going for a fast-unto-death to oppose any dilution of the RTI act. But Anna Hazare is a life spent in taking up social causes. Here, we profile his work as a village-cum-social reformer.

Eighty kms from Pune, towards Ahmednagar, there is a small village that is as much a fantasy of idealism as it is the truth of human enterprise.

Forget starvation, the people here are well nourished, there are no traces of any disease, the environment is clean and wooded, all the young are at school, the farm economy is booming, there are no social divisions, women are empowered and no one wastes time or money on movies, tobacco or liquor.

Take a pause; read again and don’t ask us anything. All of that is true.

Twenty years ago only about 70 to 80 acres out of the total village land of 2,200 acres were irrigated through wells. The village was destitute : about a fifth of the families ate just once a day; half to two-thirds borrowed grain from other villages at a high cost. There was little work in the village. Men went outside to earn a pittance breaking stones; women suffered prostitution. Family after family was in debt. A major proportion of the land had been mortgaged to money-lenders. With no other source of income, people had taken to manufacturing liquor : there were 35 to 40 liquor stills. Drunkenness was common; and with it came feuds and crime, specially against women. The village had a temple around the samadhi of Yadavbaba. It had broken down. The wood from it had been used as firewood in the liquor stills!

And then entered Anna Hazare. With his provident fund of Rs. 20, 000, Anna began the revolution by firstly renovating the village temple. For, he believes that “God is everywhere, but a child is first introduced to him in the temple. It is here that he receives education on the important values and morals of life”. Soon, inspired by his selfless devotion, villagers slowly began to rally around him and began gathering there everyday to discuss their problems and matters related to the welfare of village. The rest of the impossible was a little simpler.

Watershed development soon followed and it brought crops, money and joy back into the village lives. Formation of grain bank ensured that no one had to borrow money for food, while uprooting of alcoholism and untouchability completely turned around life in the village. But the biggest step was building the school building and using education as a meaningful input into integrated development.

Go and see for yourself what all of the aforementioned has achieved!

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Now, isn’t this wonderful?

In order to foster a sense of unity in the village, the Ralegan Siddhi family celebrates Village Birthday on 2nd October of every year. The following, worth-emulating activities take place on that day:

  • The eldest male villager is honoured as father of the village.
  • The eldest female villager is honoured as the mother of the village.
  • New clothes are stitched for every infant born in the village during the past year, irrespective of the child’s cast or religion.
  • New brides who have come to the village during the past year are welcomed with the traditional offering of coconut, as they are the daughters-in-law of the village.
  • Students who have been successful in education are honoured
  • Youth from the village who have achieved something special are honoured

All villagers gather in the evening during this occasion and have dinner together to celebrate the event.

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