Even freedom comes @

Have you noticed how you fail to enjoy things that come free? Be it  free of cost or effort. Anything availed free will haunt you for the rest of your life in some way.

Avail anything price-free and watch unpleasant thing/s following or a hidden sting piercing through you at a time in the future, when you would have long-forgotten what you even availed of.

Consider these..
Groceries - The fewer the currency notes you exchange the quicker the vegetables/fruits rot in your fridge.

Apparel - Not brands - the everyday middle-class stuff if picked up for their rates rather than fabric, then you see their colour run or hem torn even before you've quenched your desire to flaunt in them.

More seriously...
Jobs - If you are offered a salary more than what you actually deserve, then surely you'll get to see less of your family or worse still be made a scapegoat for your superior's mistakes.

Favours - If you seek of someone, rest assured you will have to compromise at the most demanding of personal times.

Most profound...
Education - If you avail of free school education (consider the government-run institutes in the SubContinent), then you'll be free the rest of your adult life!

Worse still...
Degrees/certificate - If you were to get degrees or certificates free of the effort required, then rest assured you will be accountable for others' lives. Consider the fake pilot licences, fake surgeons and teachers' cases battled out in the corridors of power in India alone.

More examples later...

Thankfully, poultry owners and farmers do not require certificates to get about their businesses.

Brains come free in our package. Let's use it to our whims and not trade it with @. Lest we become 'dom' and free - a lethal combination!

Stinky secrets

My experience as early as in high school taught me that superstitions can be silly, screwy and even stinky. The last classification I had forgotten until I met an ambitious colleague at the workplace recently.

As for my personal tyrst with superstitions, it began and ended with mynas. One for sorrow, 2 for joy, 3 for letter, 4 for boy, 5 for silver, 6 for gold, 7 for stories yet untold, 8 for a wish, 9 for a kiss; 10 for something never to be missed...

Know not when the myna myth built a nest inside me. As teenagers we loved looking out for myna pairs in college. And if we saw one then hurriedly looked for its partner or alternatively looked for a crow. The belief - a crow can take away the sorrow of the lone myna from affecting you. What logic!

However, it was only mynas in pairs or sorrowful singletons. Never dared a kiss and I didn't know what I missed. Finally, when the smooch-time struck, I lacked patience to go looking for nine chocolatey birds up in the sky. Because...I will reveal no more. Strictly censor personal stuff.

However, in general, when it comes to superstitions the most private of stuffs tend to call the shots.

In one of our math periods in Class X, my friend shrieked 'I knew it', on getting her test papers. While, all heads turned towards her, she revealed in whispers to me..."You know this is the 6th day I've worn the same pantie...Whenever I wear this I get good marks."

But why 6 days in a row, for Pete's sake?

"Didn't Ma'am say we'll get the papers on Monday. Have been waiting for it every day. How can I risk changing? No babaa!"

Stinky! Phew.

I had almost forgotten this incident, until I made friends with a  colleague in office. She's a self-confessed ambitious and over-driven workaholic, striking the same pose every time she enters the conference room for the weekly meetings.

Pulls the chair with the right hand. Transfers the file and pen from her right arm onto her left palm and places them on the table. Picks at the strap of her bag from the right forearm and keeps it on the floor on the left side and walks around the chair to enter from the right. Thrusts her chin up and shakes the hair off her shoulder as she lowers herself into the chair.

Then she adjusts diagonally in the chair with one butt lifted and the leg corresponding to that side of her arse crossed over the opposite leg. She calls it the 'commanding position'. "It shows confidence," she says. All through the meeting her nose and chin perform the attitude-throws and palms dismiss unwanted proposals but the propped-up section of her behind remains static as if fixed with glue in thin air - no matter how long the meeting runs.

Am sure there's a pantie-secret to it. On meeting days probably she jumps into and manages to pull up some decades-old, ill-fitting undie for things to go her way! I bet.

BTW, I was too curious and did try the 'commanding posture' at home. Shit, it hurts. That's what I call a real pain in the arse!

Sick of Osama and Obama...now must bear the dog, too

One man is finished. Got his share of hoopla even in death. The other man has done it. Has received his share of euology. 

Only when I thought we've moved on, a dog began stalking us.

Limits!

The media seems determined to keep bin Laden alive. It's almost a week since the most-wanted terrorist was lowered at the Arabian Sea, and still prime-time minutes and reels of newsprint are being wasted on him.

With nothing substantial coming off discussions on where the US-Pak relations stand following the aftermath or the US' modus operandi, the hot topic now is whether a dog was involved in the operation.

Its breed, its skills, its temperament, its training, its intelligence, its agility...oh my! just stops short of its poo!

As if the dog's vital statistics will reveal all that Obama refuses to say.

Do laymen care if the Pakistan President was aware of the attack or their intelligence were unaware. Or whether bin Laden's end is the beginning of second-term dreams for the other?

What people really would like to know is if Al Qaeda will explode in their neighbourhood. In the name of revenge will we be the next victims? Can anyone gurantee our lives?

Well, world leaders echoed.."with Osama bin Laden gone it is not the end to terrorism, the battle continues". Thank you for the wise words.

Now can we leave the Os behind and move on? We need to take care of ourselves.

The day my child's teacher let her down

Primary school children idolise their teachers - their word is The Bible. And my daughter is no exception.

There are days when she jumps out of her school bus beaming and runs towards me...In that splash of a second I conjure up 10 reasons for her happiness. She possibly received a reward; no, a compliment could
be; or possibly her friend's birthday...

But she'll wrap her hands around my waist and announce: "You know what mamu, Ma'am asked me to be the leader again today." Or "You know what mamu, Ma'am wore a pink skirt today. Oh! she was soooooo beautiful." One day it was her touch. "You know what mamu, I touched Ma'am's palm. Oh, sooooooo soft. Really." [The really comes whenever I smile.]

My child's you-know-what-mamu-incidents are stress busters for me. The little happenings in class hold immense importance to her. She feels majestic when asked to lead or feels special when her friend takes her
around to distribute sweets on her birthday. And when her teacher showers a compliment...WOW! I'll need a tranquiliser to calm her down!

But last week, my child got off the bus with a pout. It took her a long while to get speaking. And when she did I had reason enough to believe my child was let down. Let down by her teacher!

Painting competition 

The school management was selecting students for a painting competition.

"You know mamu, my art teacher came to our class yesterday and said who all can draw nicely, raise your hands. So some of us did and ma'am asked us to draw something that will show friendship."

The chosen few followed their art teacher to another classroom. At the end of the period, their teacher walked in to collect the work.

"But it was break time. So ma'am said, those of you who did not complete, can go to your classes and complete the drawing and submit later."

Yeah, then what happened?

"Wait, I'll show you." I thought she had got her work back from the teacher.

"But you know what mamu, Dolly. Remember I told you she was my partner. Ah! that Dolly, she came to class, took our Hindi text book and copied the picture from this chapter. See this picture? She drew
the saaaammmme. Same picture."

And her pout grew bigger.

"That's bad manners," I assured her.

And there flowed the stream. She hugged me and cried..."But mamu, she got selected. She copied and ma'am selected her. We all drew from imagination.

"And you know what mamu, Dolly says, ma'am said we can copy. But I didn't hear ma'am say that. Everyone can draw nicely, if we copy. This is wrong, isn't it?"

As I stood clueless about what to reply, she continued..."I went to art ma'am and told her."

Zap! My ears stood up. "You complained about Dolly?"

"No. Why should I complain. I wanted to know if ma'am said we can copy."

Innocent, my child! What was the use. Too late, anyways. But I restrained myself at the last moment from thinking out loud.

"Ah? What did she say?"

"You know what mamu, ma'am said 'yes, we can copy and draw'. And when I said Dolly copied this picture and she got selected, ma'am said, 'it's ok. She will practise for the competition'."

"All of us can practise and draw nicely."

...and what did you say, I asked?

"I said ok ma'am, thank you and went to my class."

I prayed my helplessness didn't pass on to my child as I held her close.

"It's ok, my darling. Only true talent will last, I explained. And the most important thing is you were sincere in your approach. So what if you are not selected. I'm proud of you."

"Only you! What about papa?"

There that's my child back in her elements in a jiffy with a tight hug.

A ghost has left me in the lurch!

There's been a host of spooky stories doing the rounds of late. Such as cooking range turning on by itself, headless bodies floating around, figures sitting on sofas in living rooms, kids' defunct toys functioning and so on...

I've heard several such first-hand and retold-accounts over the years [below are a selected few], and have duly ignored all of them. But for the latest one. I'm still reeling under its effect.

Stories/incidents

1. A family in Allahabad would hear the sound of a woman's anklets  everyday precisely around midnight. The sound would enter the house from the garden and walk off into the courtyard and disappear. The
narrator, who told me this, one night questioned his aunt about the sound. She, inturn, casually said. "Remember the bhabi who passed away a few years back. She comes to check on us. In fact, I keep water in the courtyard for her every night. Haven't you seen?"

2. While on the topic of water...my maternal grandmom doesn't have breakfast without offering the plate of eateries, including glass of tea, to her son who left her almost two decades back. She says the
'offered tea' is tasteless, sans sugar, when she drinks as her son has had it.

3. My editor told me of his father visiting him while he was fast asleep one night. On hearing someone enter his pitch-dark bedroom, he reached for the switch, only to see "dad in his trademark headgear and
payjama" sitting crouched beside him on the bed, "looking worried". The old man requested his son to get married, who in turn had to assure him he was capable of taking care of himself and pleaded with him - "please go back to where you have come from and rest in peace".

4. My senior said how he waited anxiously to check out a silhouetted figure of a woman in a burqa pass by the corridor. Every evening, around the  same time, if he sat with the front door open he would see
the woman walk across. But all his attempts of taking a closer look was in vain. The moment he ran out to pursue her she would vanish.

5. Another incident in the same building relates to three headless bodies suspended in air hanging out near the balcony that leads to his bedroom. These 'objects' made an appearance quite late at around 2am at night. When the narrator stepped out into the balcony one night, these 'objects' started to come nearer to the wall. Apparently, they had no distinctive features, yet they resembled human heads. He told aloud: "My God protects me. Don't enter my home. Whatever it is you'll want to do, it should be outside the walls of my home." And he saw the 'objects' slowly float away.

6. A man was knocked down in a north India state after peeing on a cemetary. The blow was so bad that it took him almost a month to walk unaided. This guy, a non-believer, to prove his people wrong went to
the place a few days later and did the act again. This time not only was he knocked down unconscious but on regaining his senses, the hitherto desi guy spoke only French. It is believed the tombstone belonged to a very distinguished and learned man from the days of the British rule in India. "He felt insulted."

Well, it's up to each reader if you want to believe in jinns and ghosts and spirits or not. I guess the effect defines beliefs. If the experiences affect you [in some way, positive or negative] then they become incidents else they remain stories...

But one such tale has left in the lurch...

Househelp saga

"My husband hits me. He pulls my hair and throws things at me. He refuses to eat what I cook. I can't lift my arm..." These are excuses my househelp gave me last week minutes before she announced, "I cannot
come from tomorrow."

I'm no elitist. Trust me. But cannot fathom how domestic help across boundaries cite similar problems to switch jobs!

"So what's your salary expectation," I ask. And there she begins singing my praises. It was an impromtu act, else I would have recorded it to bargain with her successor. "You are the best madam, I've worked for. You gave me more than what anyone has ever given me..."

I didn't hear the rest as I was zeroing in on friends who could give me househelp contacts.

Well, the long and short of her announcement is ever since she moved into her one-room sharing accommodation a year back, she's had no peace of mind. Because years ago a woman was murdered by her man in that particular room. Since then, couples renting the room have been fighting with each other, told neighbours. So she's found a safe place on the outskirts of the town and cannot commute everyday to help me out.

So much for the ghost who hates families...I'm left in the lurch!

Let there be more Doom's Day prophecies

At last Nostradamus seems to have got a break!

In the recent past Mayan followers have been warning mankind about the world coming to an end next year, but now certain independent Christian groups have joined in the apocalyptic predictions. They are ranting about the ultimate day being even closer - May 21, 2011 - a little over a month from today. However, they've stopped short of calling it the Last Day. Instead, it's called the Judgement Day to be followed by the end of the world after five months on October 21, 2011.

Now is that some sort of a grace period given to push the maximum numbers through. I'm reminded of instant exams we had in college. Students who failed in no more than one subject were allowed to take 'instant exam', conducted within 45 days so they do not lose an academic year. It not only benefitted students but also institutions that showcased a better pass percentage. Similarly, those who haven't so far accumulated the required scores, I guess, will receive a five-month grace period to pull up their socks when the final callsheet will be marked in October when they get the previlege to hang their boots!

The Dooms Day theory goes something like this...(the little I understood from the cacophony around) people who are adamant about not improving themselves, even after next month-end, will be left on Earth to suffer post-October.

Family Radio Worldwide, an independent Christian Ministry, based in California is the one pulling out all stops to propogate their so-called logical prophecy, simply because they claim it to be Bibilical.

So where do people get to see their progress cards? Hope Camping (leader of the Family Radio) will display them preferably online or on his favourite platform - billboards. 

Interestingly, Mayan followers are quiet after Camping and his brood took to the roads. Probably adopting the wait-and-watch policy to alter their stance. Lucikly for them there's more than a year. Have enough time to alter or even edit their prophecy. However, they seem to be more practical or rather astronomical!

Their explanation is in 2012 the Milky Way galaxy will assume a rare alignment which occurs once in about 25,000 years. And that may cause a shift in magnetic poles, which in turn will affect weather patterns.
There are other groups who associate this shift with the inner self... of spiritual awareness or consciousness.

Then we have the ever-potenet Research Sect suggesting the Sun will release solar flares disrupting life on planet Earth, which they themselves say is not unusual.   

Any proof. Well, wait and watch. As for Family Radio and Mayan prophecies, pick up their respective books and decipher the so-called hints. That is if you care.

Remember the Millennium talk in the last quarter of 1999? Of how the computers would go blank and the self-prophesied geeks going crazy taking back-ups of stored data because they thought many computers wouldn't know what the year 00 would be? What happened? People ushered in the New Year rather the New Millennium and logged in to send greetings. 

Similarly, last month the tale going around was that of the Supermoon. When the Japanese were struggling to cope up with the devastation, astronomical fanatics were debating their assumptions of how the Supermoon was the cause of the killer tsunami. If it was a coincidence that the earlier tsunami in 2004 was close to one such Supermoon, then we need to wait at least two decades to prove it. As astronomers say such a phenomenon will occur only after about 18-odd years.

So let's wait for at least two more decades to see if another killer tsunami will follow a quake which in turn will follow closely or precede the Supermoon or choose to go tangent. This will also buy us time to check on the Mayans, the Campings, spiritual leaders and any other sect who would want to join in the melee.

The more the participants the more the theories that will unfold and even more the confusion that will ensue. And the more the consfusion the better the reason to live - don't we wake up each morning with a purpose of proving another wrong?

Why cricket should be the National Sport of India

Rightly anticipating the reaction if India becomes the new cricket champions
of the world, I was determined not to write a piece on anything even
remotely associated with the game - that is even if my nation were to lose
the finals. No, it's not disrespect or attitude (Gosh! I treasure my ribs in
place). Coming from a land where cricket is religion, don't I know better.
The truth be told - I can't think of unused superlatives and frezied one-
liners that began inundating the media from the run-up to the finals. How
much do I tweak the already consumed words to sound different? Friends
sugested a comment on the final day performance or the individual scores or
even the future of the champions... Well, leave me alone, I'm no game.

However, if I still choose to waste time and space on the hit-and-run
issues, it's because the chases and misses have crossed the borders. Was
heart-warming to see Pakistani Prime Minister Yousuf Raza Gilani and the
Indian Premier Manmohan Singh sit close together without much ado and
presumaly enjoying a game very unfamilar to the one they are masters at.
After the hype of political presence at the stadium even days before the
actual semi-final match, it wasn't surprising to hear the Foreign Secretary
issue a statement. Yet I think any other lower-ranking official could have
read the statement.

If the might and power of this game is such that it is expected to boost
cross-border camaraderie, then shouldn't it be upgraded as the National
Sport of India? Hockey players haven't ever received the same attention,
forget adulation, in free India. They've tried playing, then comparing,
pleading and complaining...miserably falling short of even the deafest
of ears.

Well, the debate has been doing the rounds since a while. Popularity,
remuneration, win-loss statistics, trophies, ground realties of the two
games have been compared and rumenated over the years to no definite
conclusion.

Now, here's one reason why cricket should replace hockey as the National
Sport - the government has endorsed the game. Period.