Uff those trains, and travel !!

It's been ages since I travelled in sleeper class. I don't remember when was the last I travelled in a second class compartment of any Indian train, before my recent trip to Hyderabad that is!

And this travel paved the way for a plethora of emotions in a short time (well, not exactly - the train took its own sweet time of 20 hours to reach our destination). We got into the train at 11.30 a.m. and till almost 4.30 p.m. there was nobody in the bogie - everything around was quiet except for the chugging of the rail engine and the sound of the wheels on the tracks (which probably wouldn't have been so prominent had it been an AC coach). In fact, it was so quiet that my husband and me could fight peacefully for about 5 minutes without inviting glances, comments or intrusions :-).

The train was quite empty too but for those unplanned travelers with a general ticket trying to catch a seat in the sleeper coach just by requesting the TC. And, apparently the TC obliges in most cases - how does it matter if the passengers with a reservation are inconvenienced as long as he gets to fill his pockets before he can call it a day! His logic: 'you should be a little patient and cooperating sir. They are only day-journey-ing. You won't be sleeping till night anyway - hehehehe.' What an argument sir-ji!

So far so good - till a couple got in with their two daughters in tow and a truck-load of luggage - somewhere after Visakhapatnam. They pushed, pulled, and tugged at our only suitcase and somehow managed to squeeze in every bit of the luggage they got into the coach while the entire khandaan waiting outside to see them off tried getting into the compartment to help them arrange & re-arrange their stuff, hug the kids, say goodbye, exchange last-minute pleasantries - what a chaos! I was literally waiting for the train to start so there will be just 4 people around, and not 40. Having received many packets of chips, biscuits, and chocolates from their loving relatives, the little ones started attacking their loot the moment they got in, making a mess of the place.

Hmmm! If you thought that was messy, think again. Two stations and an hour-and-a-half later, another couple boarded the train with their two little children (a boy and a girl this time) and claimed the first couple's seats as theirs. There were mild arguments, comparison of tickets, compromises, and finally a long wait for the TC to resolve the issue - it turned out that our first couple got into the wrong compartment - S1 instead of SC1. Ahhh, what a relief!

No, wait, I was wrong. Who wants to move with bag-baggage to the other end of the train when one can make friends, and a few adjustments, here itself! So, both the couples and their 4 little devils plonked themselves well and started a conversation in such friendly tones that I wondered if they were long-lost twins separated at the Kumbh Mela!

Meanwhile the husband in our second family wanted me and my daughter "to move and hand over the window seat to them as it is theirs and they have small kids who loveeee the window seat." That's it, I totally lost it and out came a rude reply - "I'll move, just hold it. We also have a window seat but we didn't demand it back from our co-passengers as they are travelling with a 7-month-old baby. Neither you bought the entire train nor I did. Be a little patient or make sure that all four of you occupy just that one seat and not move to our part as we've the other two seats reserved for middle and upper berths."

Wicked! wicked! I know, but I just couldn't help it - I was bearing all kinds of weird behavior with a blank expression since afternoon! But S was wicked-est when I told him what happened. He was standing near the door for most part of this amazing conversation I had with my co-passenger (my husband hates crowded places and ill-mannered crowd). He almost told them, courteously though :-))) , that he wants to sleep and wants to use his own berth - the middle berth that is! Hehehe! I think that shut up the angry-young-man forever!

Their incessant chattering went on till 9 p.m. when both the guys finally decided to slowly move the luggage of the first couple to their actual compartment at the other end of the train. Gawd, finally!!! I guess some sense dawned on them as their kids were sleepy and cranky.

What a nice way to travel I say! Squeezing in a smaller space scared to even get up in fear of losing that little space too, being forced to listen to friendly exchanges of information, getting dragged into unwanted conversations -- please, whoever told you I'm interested in knowing where you live, what you do for livelihood, what're the names of your little angels, how good/bad your in-laws are, how your neighbours trouble you, and how both ye couples are married within the family, and that too to your maternal uncles (wow, what a coincidental surprise!).

So????? For God's sake, I'm not a friendly person - not in an over-crowded sleeper coach of Visakha Express at least! I told S (for the 100th time I think) that I'll travel ONLY in an AC coach during my return journey, and for all my future trips too.

Did I hear someone yell SNOB! Maybe, but I'm like this only... God save me! Or, better still, my fellow passengers from me!

Can you still say India is free?

This is a riposte (that I chanced upon and totally enjoyed reading) to a speech delivered recently in Hyderabad by our honourable ex-President Mr. Kalam about India being a great nation of scientists, and patriots (?). He probably used this speech, as he always does, to inspire umpteen youngsters who, at their impressionable age, might find it truly inspiring, completely agreeable, and extremely motivating. Maybe Mr. Kalam's success can be attributed to his incredible feat of being able to reach out to the right age group at the right time!

But what about cynics like us who find the facts of his speech and the so-called scientific achievements totally questionable? Agreed we also want an India which is shining and whose future is bright. Nevertheless, when we critically examine the contents of Mr. Kalam's speech and carefully scrutinise some of the issues discussed, people like us might want to understand the nature of the speech, question the motive behind showcasing India in such richer tones of greatness or whatever else he tried to attribute to the country and its scientific temper!

However, in true Indian spirit, I'd still love to offer a sincere salute to my country on the occasion of her 62nd Independence Day. Jai Hind!

When disaster(s) strike...

... they strike disastrously. Or so I feel at this point in time. First it was the earthquake that woke me up at 1.25 a.m. and kept me on tenterhooks for the next 15-20 mins. I was sleepy, and I was a bit worried too - not knowing whether it was a real quake or if it was a forceful wind playing its night-time tricks; whether it was true or if it was a fit of my dreamy imagination; whether I should pick up my sleeping daughter and run out of the house or stay and wait for the next tremor.

I was unsure if everything was all right, and if it was safe for me to go back to sleep. I was finally convinced that the quake was not unreal when my worried cousin working in the USA heard of a 'possible Tsunami' warning, and called us around 2.10 a.m. to find out if we were safe and how far are we from the sea, and safety! Oh my God! So the cot really moved - for full 20 seconds - and I've not imagined it at all. Hmmmm!

After a restless night with barely 3 hours of sleep, I woke up the next morning at my usual time only to find 15 minutes later that my daughter got up with a high fever. And this was the first time in the past six years that her body temparature touched 103 F. Why now? When we just moved to a village, choosing a totally different lifestyle. All was well so far - so why is this happening now? Suddenly!

Not just this!! Just a couple of days before these two nightmarish experiences occured, my loving husband came down from Hyderabad in our silver gray Maruti Alto car (in an act of affection and chivalry) so I can use my own vehicle and not depend on autos or public transport here. We hired Abhimanyu (a driver from Dharampur), bought him a ticket, and sent him to drive my husband down. Within a couple of hours after their arrival, Sr. S was down with fever, cough, cold and stomach infection (no, it's not swine flu).

Clearly, that was no joy ride for him - 900 kms of non-stop travel in a matchbox-ish vehicle when he had to fight sleep to make sure the driver was fully awake, and the speedometer did not indicate 80+ KMPH. And his arrival was nothing like homecoming :( . He was still recovering from the bout of fever and backache when the earthquake rattled our cot and indicated an impending disaster. Then came our little one's tryst with viral fever.

Obviously my mind was home to many questions and doubts! Did we do the right thing by leaving a city to settle down in a small village? Did we make the right choice at the right time? How can we justify ourselves if my little daughter S is unwell for long without proper medical aid? How can we forget that we're at a place with bare minimum facilities - medical or otherwise - with no good medical practitioner, leave alone a paediatrician. Will it be okay to get my 66-year-old mother here in the next couple of months as planned? Will we always be so alert and energetic to rush to the nearest town some 16 kms away to get a simple medicine for fever or flu!

I don't know if it's okay thinking this way!! But I wonder if we're justified in sacrificing our little daughter's life and future for a cause we are so passionate about! I've no answers now but this much I can say... the struggle (both in my mind and outside) will go on for many more days to come. And I'll probably learn to live on... with it!

My moral dilemma...

My daughter is participating in the parade at school on August 15. It's one of the many firsts for her ever since we moved from Hyderabad. And she's supposed to learn and sing a Hindi song on stage. After careful thought, and a lot of debate with my little princess, we both chose the title song from Hum Hindustani (which was released in 1960 and featured Sunil Dutt, Joy Mukherjee and Asha Parekh). And I felt it was very apt at this moment, not just for me but for all of us Indians collectively.

Aaj puraani zanjeeron ko tod chuke hain

Kya dekhe us manzil ko jo chhod chuke hain

Chaand ke dar pe jaa pahuncha hai aaj zamaana

Naye jagat se hum bhi naata jod chuke hain...

But have we, really?

Aao mehnat ko apna imaan banaaye

Apne haathon ko apna bhagwaan banaaye

Ram ki is dharti ko gautam ki bhoomi ko

Sapnon se bhi pyaara Hindustan banaaye...

Are we ready yet, I wonder!

As I was making my daughter rehearse her lines, I could only feel bitter thinking about the progress (or the lack of it?) we made in the past 62 years in Independent India. Orissa that way brought out the cynic in me. I'm not negative or pessimistic but I'm definitely cynical at this point looking at the roads, the (non-existent) drainage system, lack of basic amenities, or agents to supply gas within a 15-km radius, pathetic public transport, and what not!

That reminds me of my trip to Berhampur last week in a local bus (not run by OSRTC but by a private bus service - something like Setwin buses that ply in Hyderabad). I set out on a cloudy afternoon along with my nephew. With a spirit of adventure, we got into a Mahindra (called so in honour of the company that manufactures these buses - or mini-buses rather - in bulk) and travelled for nearly one-and-a-half hours one way (it normally takes about 30-35 mins in an auto).

Our primary aim was to buy Windows XP Home edition original software - available with great difficulty after a lot of search. On our way back we walked to a megamart in the viscinity and did a little bit of grocery shopping, walked out satisfied with all our purchases, and finally got into another Mahindra to get back home.

It started raining soon and within 10 minutes after starting at Berhampur, the bus started leaking from top at one of the seats. So, the other passengers shifted, shoved and moved a bit to make place for the two guys who were getting soaked by the water dripping from above their heads. I really admired the camaraderie the passengers shared. Hmmm... not for long though - as we realized slowly that it's not just one spot that was leaking. Soon, water started seeping down from every part of the bus and there was not a single person in the bus who was not soaked wet.

Should we thank our stars that we're on the road in a bus and not on the sea in a boat that's leaking? And most passengers in the bus are fisherfolk people who can easily relate to the analogy of the boat! I had a myriad questions in my head through the rest of my journey.

Are these people any lesser than the other mortals living elsewhere in the country or the world? Why are their living conditions so pathetic? What powerful force is it that's stopping them from getting their basic minimum amenities? Is there something one can do about it or are we just part of a deaf and dumb system which silently watches and goes along the flow?

I'm still wondering if I should go ahead and file a Right to Information (RTI) demanding to know where and why the OSRTC is failing to provide buses to rural areas? Or should I approach the State Human Rights Commission and narrate the incident? Or should I just mind my own business and be content with being the perfect housewife? What should I do? Let me know your thoughts.

Bonding on the beach...

Ah, how glad I'm to be a mother after 6 years. No, no, don't get me wrong. I'm not expecting again - hahaha! I meant mother in the true sense to my 6-year-old daughter. Somehow I've never had the opportunity to get to know my own daughter while I was ever so eager to make a lot of friends-for-life outside of home. And so, it felt nice when I tried a bit of bonding on the beach with my daughter this Friendship Day!

As soon as I woke up on Sunday, I've made up my mind to spend a lot of quality time with my daughter - not just do the regular stuff but something more meaningful, something different from our usual routine, and make it special for her. So I had an unsigned agreement with Srishtii that by the time I finish cooking, she should be done with her homework so we could go to the beach and play in the sea. She didn't believe me initially because whenever I take her to the beach she only gets to play in the sand - I don't let her venture out into the water. That's something only her dad does!

Nevertheless, she completed her homework and, as promised, we got ready, crossed the road and walked on the sand as fishermen weaved their new nets and boats were being rowed to the shore. I paused a while on the sand - just enough time to check if Srishtii would be disappointed, but she wasn't :-). She only looked questioningly (not accusingly, mind you!) - an inquisitive expression writ large on her face - as if she's still wondering if we're getting into the sea to play with water or not.

I cannot forget the jubilant look on her face, and the excitment in her eyes when I asked her to remove her chappals as I did the same. Slowly we walked towards the sea, into the water. The first wave barely touched our feet as my daughter was still apprehensive about me being able to hold her tight, without letting her fall, while she swims in the waves. As I nudged her a bit, she gave in, though reluctantly at first, and let the water surround her legs up to the knee. That did the trick, I must say! And she didn't want to let go of the feeling of being engulfed by the sea. Immediately, she sat down and got wet completely.

After all, she's our daughter -- isn't it only natural that she inherits the fascination we both have for the sea, the beach and the water!! And there she was - a living proof of our shared passions - soaked in water and sand from head to toe :-) . Watching my little baby play without a care in the world and with unending excitement for over 45 minutes was the best gift I could ever ask for on the Friendship Day.

Have I succeeded in becoming a proud part of her list of 'friends' - which includes quite a few classmates, bus-mates, cousins, friends' friends, my friends too - I wonder! I've no answers yet, but I might have soon - someday in the near future, or perhaps when she grows up to be a teenager. If the base of this bonding is strong enough to last a lifetime that is! And I'm eagerly awaiting my answer...

5.30 to 11.30 !! Yes, but I got a life

A few of my friends and cousins seemed intrigued about my routine, rather what my day-to-day life at a remote village is like! Okay, let me think. I do quite a bit of house-wifey stuff, and yes I'm slowly getting to know what it takes to be a "perfect housewife". Never again will I be able to say, even in jest, that housewives are a happy lot who laze around at home while workingwomen have a 24X7 job to do - both at home and at office! Nah! Not true at all!

Actually, I must admit that from a 9-to-5 job to a 5.30-to-11.30 routine, I've come a long way. So what do I do everyday that keeps me so busy from early morning to close-to-midnight? Hmmm... let me try and list it out, or describe a day in my life and see if I can make sense. In a nutshell, it goes like this:

5.30 a.m.: My sleek-n-stylish Nokia 3600 slider mobile rings the alarm and I'm forced to get up (yeah with a little practice, I've learnt to get up immediately rather than snooze it for the next 10 mins)

5.34 a.m.: Fill the bucket with water and plug in the immersion rod to boil water for Srishtii.

5.37 a.m.: Take out yesterday's milk from the fridge and boil it; get things ready for Srishtii's lunch-box (today it was sweet dosa made with atta, rice flour, jaggery soaked in water, elaichi).

5.50 a.m.: Make a cup of Boost for my daughter and switch on the water heater.

5.53 a.m.: Get Srishtii's uniform, tie, and belt ready. Keep the baby powder, bindi and comb within reach.

5.54 a.m.: Polish her shoes, and keep them ready.

5.57 a.m.: Re-check to see if her bag has everything she needs. Sharpen the pencils if needed.

5.59 a.m.: Pack her lunch-box and put in in the bag, fill the water bottle.

6.00 a.m.: Switch off the water heater (water is hot and ready). Try waking up Srishtii (in vain for the next 5 minutes)

6.05 a.m.: Switch off the fan, mosquito repellant, pull the rug off my daughter and the princess finally wakes up.

6.06 a.m.: Carry my half-asleep daughter to the loo, and make her sit on the potty.

6.08 a.m.: Brush her teeth in precisely 3 minutes.

6.11 a.m.: Push a reluctant 6-year-old into the bathroom and give her a bath. (I keep wondering why she doesn't want the bathing ritual to end, after just 2 mugs of water!!! Strange are the ways of kids, I say!).

6.16 a.m.: Pat her dry, apply powder, dress her up minus belt and tie.

6.20 a.m.: Force the boost down her throat while she is still thinking of ways to make a fuss, and trying to find reasons to not drink milk!

6.24 a.m.: Comb and plait her hair, make her wear shoes, tie and belt.

6.28 a.m.: Collect her bag and water bottle, my mobile, and finally step out of the house.

6.29 a.m.: Lock the house while Srishtii climbs down the stairs.

6.31 a.m.: We're on the road, waiting for the school bus.

6.35-6.45 a.m.: I try bonding and catching up with my little princess while the bus takes its own sweet time to arrive (I still haven't figured out the exact bus timings - sometimes it comes at 6.35 and sometimes around 6.45 :-)

6.45 a.m.: Wave my daughter a sleepy bye-bye and get back home.

6.50 a.m.: Brush my teeth while playing Venkateswara Suprabhatam or some old Telugu/ Hindi songs on my good old cassette player.

7.00 a.m.: Soak clothes to be washed.

7.10 a.m.: I'm still sleepy, how about catching up on an hour's sleep before my maid comes (while trying to read leftover columns from yesterday's newspaper!)

8.15 a.m.: Maid knocks on the door (I wonder how much progress India would have made if every Indian is as punctual as my maid Lakshmi is!!!)

8:20 a.m.: Switch on 9X on TV to watch Dil Se (or rather listen to those nice Hindi songs while cursing everytime there's an ad or some stupid what's cooking kind of tidbits in between).

8.30 a.m.: Keep browsing different channels lazily while my maid cleans the utensils, sweeps and mops the floor.

8.35 a.m.: Make chai for Lakshmi and myself as she sets out to do the last chore for the morning - washing clothes (mind you, I was doing all these things till 10 days ago since I couldn't find a maid immediately after shifting here).

8.45 a.m.: Lakshmi finishes her chai, makes a rangoli pattern in front of the flat, empties the dust bin and is ready to leave while I continue to watch TV.

8.50 a.m.: Boil water, have a bath, light a diya for the God, and feel at peace with myself. What a refreshing way to start a day!

9.20 a.m.: Milkman comes with fresh buffalo milk finally!

9.25 a.m.: My stomach growls with anger, oops... hunger and I need to pacify it. Please hold on for a bit while I make myself some breakfast... usually my nephew comes around this time for his daily visit to make sure that everything is all right with me and check if I need anything from the bazaar. Sometimes we have breakfast together, and at other times I enjoy my solitary breakfast in front of the TV.

10.00 a.m.: Ah, the newspaper vendor has knocked on the door - God! how long do I have to wait for my share of gossip and news everyday.

10.10 a.m.: Make myself a hot cup of coffee - fresh and invigorating - and settle down with the newspaper.

11.00 a.m.: Time to start cooking lunch - usually a simple fare with dal, subzi, rasam and rice.

12.00 noon: Lunch is ready - so I wash my face and apply a red dot with kumkum.

12.05 p.m.: Lock the house and go down to wait for my daughter's school bus.

12.15 p.m.: That's usually when the school bus drops her off.

12.18 p.m.: We reach home, and my daughter removes her socks, shoes, tie, and belt, changes her clothes, washes her face and switches on Cartoon Network while I fix lunch for her.

12.55 p.m.: Srishtii is done with her lunch after constant reminders and a bit of screaming asking her to "eat fast warna no CN".

1.00 p.m: I've no more energy left and I'm hungry too! So, I settle down in the red plastic chair (left by my kind landlady for our use) next to my daughter with my lunch.

1.30 p.m.: Time for Srishtii's afternoon siesta. A little bit of cajoling and a lot of screaming does the trick.

2.00 p.m.: Madam finally sleeps off giving my throat and mouth some rest! And no, I don't sleep in the afternoon.

2.00 p.m. to 4.00 p.m.: I either read a book, watch some stupid Telugu or Hindi movie on one of the channels or browse the net, blog, chat with friends.

4.00 p.m.: It's time to wake up my daughter.

4.05 p.m.: My princess opens her sleepy eyes, reaches for me and asks me to lie down next to her.

4.15 p.m.: She wakes up finally and washes her face while I make Boost for her and tea for myself.

4.30 p.m. - 6.00 p.m: Srishtii completes her homework and also eats some snacks.

6.05 p.m. - 7.30 p.m.: We take a jaunt to either the beach, or to my in-laws' house. Of course we have to say our hello-s and bye-s to half-a-dozen people on our way, and back. But we do make sure that we're back by 7.30.

7.30 p.m.: Help Srishtii with her studies - explain whatever has been taught in school that day, make her learn difficult spellings, etc. But no more than 2 subjects everyday.

8.15 p.m.: Make dinner (usually rice or rotis to be eaten with morning's leftover dal and subzi) while still helping Srishtii with her lessons.

9.00 p.m.: It's time for Srishtii's dinner - she eats while watching Krishna on Nick or some other show on Cartoon Network - the only two children's channels that are shown on cable here.

9.30 p.m.: I've my dinner in flat 10 mins, and force Srishtii to get on to her bed. She wants a story read out from one of her fairy tales books.

10.00 p.m.: Srishtii is fast asleep and I switch on the computer to chat with my husband or blog some more.

11.00 p.m.: Oops! I forgot to get Srishtii's bag ready with the notebooks and textbooks required for tomorrow as per her time-table.

11.05 p.m.: Ah! I'm done with everything for the day and I settle down with a book to catch up on my reading before I fall asleep around 11.30 p.m.

Well, that's how my routine goes, day after day -- with slight, or almost no, variation (except perhaps on Sundays)! Still, neither do I get bored nor do I regret it - as I love the simplicity of this tension-free lifestyle! Now, this is what I would call 'Getting a life'! What do you think?