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Sacred Saffron: The smell, the sight, the scare.

“Kesar joiye che biju?” 

The word kesar immediately conjured up images of kesari dhwaja everywhere in the city. Coincidentally, I was preparing mithai on 22nd January 2024. And my mom had called me to ask if I needed more saffron for my mithai preparation. 

January 2024 was the month of saffron. Saffron was omnipresent. And now, it seems, it is omnipotent too. The demand for saffron flags had skyrocketed, generating earning opportunities for the seasonal hawkers. Suddenly, roadside hawkers, who make a cameo appearance before the 15th of August, 26th of January, and 25th of December, selling miniature Indian national flags and Christmas caps, showed up out of thin air even this time. There was a surge in saffron flags and banners of varied sizes with the image of the deity, His devotee, and His controversial abode. Huge saffron banners covering the length of high-rise buildings were also put up to remind people of their culture and religion. 

Is it just the colour people need to remember, or even the associated conduct? 

I completely respect people’s love for their religion. After all, India is known for its varied range of religions. But what confuses me is the frenzy attached to religion. And for that matter any religion. As the date of consecration ceremony was approaching near, I felt more apprehensive.

What if such a show of a particular religious belief led to some unforeseen disorder and disturbance?

And then, the next month was the month of red. Suddenly, we see a sea of red across the city. A display of red clothing and lingerie in shop-fronts. Gift shops display paraphernalia related to Valentine’s Day – all lovely reds. I am not sure if even today this day is celebrated with the same fervour as in the days of Archie’s card. I remember seeing huge cards in gift shops with poetic messages for loved ones: even red and pink teddy bears and soft heart-shaped cushions. I was blessed enough to see them, but not enough to receive any.

With time, the idea of cards and gifts seems to have changed just as the understanding of the meaning of valentine. During my time, the celebration was limited between lovers: a boy and a girl; a husband and a wife. Oh! The romantic charm of yesteryear’s tokens! Today, not many people would want to make an effort to go out and shop for their loved ones. BTW, love is not just a feeling; it’s an effort. Now gift items like flowers, chocolates, jewellery, and so on are just a click and a doorbell away. So, no more the moral Sang(h) and Rang to worry about. No more worries about saff-run (to your houses). Love is still in the air. 

You must be thinking why am I celebrating vasi uttarayan now? Because even today when I sit back and think about these events, I ponder – Do we need religious tokens in excess to establish our religiosity? Do we need to make a show of it? Do we need ostentatious religious rituals to prove that we are religious? And nationalists as well? 

*****

Of course, we do need tokens of love. Even if hearts fly across the screen.

Friend: Maryada Purushottam Ram is a vyavahar (demeanour).
Me: Agreed. It’s not a vyapar (business).

Posted on by nikita

From a Hush to a Hash

Gone are the days of indistinct murmurs, funny gesticulation, and coded language. It seems so after 2018. The year when the Padman made an attempt to break the taboo around menstruation.

The recent debate in the parliament tells us that it is no longer a hush-hush subject of discussion. It is no longer smothered within the four walls of several households. And such open acknowledgment of their emotional and physical pain might have brought a sigh of relief – a hash –  to many menstruating women and girls. 

No. By no means do I want to argue in this blog about whether the Indian parliament should pass any law on ‘paid period leave’ at workspaces or not. What about those homemakers who have to cook (because their culture or religion allows them)? 

I am happy with the idea of people talking about periods, even though the conversations are through paid period leaves. Acknowledging the fact that periods are exhausting in every way and immensely painful for many. (At least for me.) And it’s not simply periods, more than that the rules and prohibitions that come along in many cultures in the name of religion. Again, I don’t want to delve into any discussion about whether gods passed any such law that women shouldn’t do certain things and not be in certain places while they are menstruating. He must have had more pressing issues to be addressed in His discourses. 

Sorry, but I have not been able to put this thought out of my mind for a long time. You can also ponder over it. 

Just imagine God sitting on the highest pedestal or the divine peak of some heavenly mountain sermonizing a vast assemblage of His followers. Patriarchy at its peak? Would He talk about menses or values like honesty, kindness, compassion, forgiveness, truth, love, non-violence, and so on? Is it that He must have instructed the women gathered there, “Please don’t come to me when you are in pain? Menstrual pain. I can’t help it. It’s your biology, your problem”. Or, do you think He must have said, “Hark, fair ladies! Thou hast sinn’d and transgressed, hence thou art destined to be women”! What if a woman dared to respond, “Thou, Heavenly Father, art born of a woman”.

Anyway, the point here is about having a dialogue. Even if it’s in the name of equal rights for women at workplaces or any other hidden political agenda, MP Manoj Kumar, without covering his face with his hand, debated on the topic of paid menstrual leave with the bahu of BJP in the parliament. 

Seems like we are progressing, even if it’s at a slower pace.

Because even today there are families who don’t talk about menstruation openly. Recently, a friend of mine called me. I asked him about the absence of his wife at a particular event. He said, “Enathi avai evu nahi hatu. Aaram hato”. Even when I was growing up, people in my family and friends used to talk in coded language. Personalized euphemism to make it sound polite. Phrases like ‘wicket padi gai’ or ‘out of order’ and gesticulations like tapping the head or a thumbs down were used to send the message that the woman was menstruating. The fun part was, and is, that the absence of the lady of the house at family functions, or festivals would indirectly send the message to all the relatives that she was going through the three painful days of the month. So, something that was supposed to be a hush-hush was out in the public. The amusing paradox of a woman’s life ha! 

Friend – What’s your take on ‘paid period leave’?
Me – Pondering. Period.

Happy Progressive New Year

Posted on by nikita

An order that brought disorder to an odd-er mind. What if…

colorful drawings on wall

‘Hello! I am Tarun. I am here to assist you today. Hope you are doing good. Please tell me how can I help you?’

My communications – chat and telephonic –  with agents of the largest online retailer would start with these professionally pleasing words. For almost a week, every time I had to narrate the same story to different agents. Almost 9-10 agents. (I would get calls from their Customer Care Service every other day. Thus the numbers:)) At one point I wanted to tell them badly – Please, change the narrative. Let’s just get down to business. No pleasantries. No formalities. But, still, I hadn’t lost my sanity to the point of being disrespectful. 

I would just repeat the same question – Where’s my order?

No sooner had these words left my partially cracked winter lips, than I was bombarded with a volley of counter questions.

Ma’am, could you please tell me the date when you placed the order for these two items? Ma’am, could you please confirm your mobile number and address? Didn’t you get any call from the delivery agent? Did you call him on the sms-ed mobile number to track your order? Ma’am, could you please share the tracking ID of your order?

And every conversation ended with empathetic words from them – I can understand.

Did they really?

Is it possible to feel empathetic at all times? 

I pondered, what if – 

A man tells a woman I can understand your frustration when your pics on IG do not get ‘likes’ in 2 digits along with some positive comments. 

A woman tells a man I can understand the relief you feel when you shed a few tears you are accustomed to holding back. 

A teacher tells the parents I can understand the hopelessness you feel even when your child’s indefatigable endeavours do not give the desired result. 

A wife tells her husband I can understand your annoyance when even on Sundays you are deprived of peace of mind due to the mayhem around. I witness it daily.

Akshay Kumar tells Ranbir Kapoor I can understand that unspeakable disappointment when your films turn out to be a massive failure in a single year.  

Jacqueline Fernandez tells Nora Fatehi I can understand the mental trauma of accepting expensive gifts from a con man whose criminal background we are not aware of. 

Rahul Gandhi tells Kejriwal I can understand the embarrassment you feel after losing the political battle by a huge margin against the BJP in Gujarat. 

Putin tells Zelensky I can understand your feeling of nationalism even when the ramifications of our decisions have brought destruction and death to many.

Heal the world
Make it a better place
For you and for me, and the entire human race
– Dangerous by MJ

2023 – I am feeling scared. In a year my life will come to an end.
2022 – I can understand. 

Merry Christmas
Wish you a Happy & Happening 2023

 

Posted on by nikita · 1 Comment

I did some digging and I found this…

I hear the intermittent whistling in the distance. Yeah, the song too – Gadiwala aaya…kachra nikal…The song is playing in my head and I am anxiously alert. Today I can’t miss the garbage collector. If I miss them even today, my medium-size dustbin will overflow with two-day garbage. I can’t bear the putrid smell of gases when I open the lid to dump more in it.

O! The van is here. And it’s steering towards a different road. 

“Hey! Hello! Take this garbage.” 

Finally, one of the three workers hears my euphemistic shout. 

“Why aren’t you collecting garbage from every door in the street every now and then?” 

I get a curt reply with some displeasure on his face. “There are fewer workers on those days.” 

I wonder – Do they need more than three? Will more people fit on the vehicle?

So many times I have felt pity for these people who have to bear the unbearable stench of garbage. They dig their hands into the heap of unruly garbage to segregate it while on the wheels. Just as the Supreme Court dug into Sidhu’s unruly past, the road-rage case of 1988 for punching an elderly person to death. As sometimes some garbage collectors keep themselves inebriated to such an extent that they lose their sense of smell, it seems Sidhu was intoxicated by power and it took 34 years for such an insensible form of justice to bring him back to his senses. However, he will serve just 1 year of imprisonment. Thoko taali!

It’s good to know that the government is working towards Swachha Bharat Abhiyan, literally and metaphorically. But, at the same time, the work is done half-heartedly like some of these garbage collectors.

The average garbage collector’s gross salary in India is ₹2,12,465 or an equivalent hourly rate of ₹102 as per the survey by SalaryExpert. Frankly speaking, I don’t like the idea of asking or talking to someone about his/her salary. Immediately, it brings to my mind those Gujarati Uncles & Aunties (U/A) who are keen to know your ‘pagar’ (salary). Have you come across any of those who are neck-deep interested to know your pay package? 

Once they come to know that you are in this or that firm, they will remark – Pagar saaro malto hase ne? Ketlo male aasre? (You must be getting a good salary, right? Approximately how much do you get?) I can bet, it will be impossible for you to not answer them. The more you try to avoid such a rigorous inquiry, the harder they will try to shoot you with probing questions. Within 2 minutes you will surrender to their persistent interrogation unlike the alleged friends and colleagues investigated in Shushant Singh Rajput’s case. It is going to be 2 years in June and still the CBI has not been able to give closure to this case.

I also read somewhere that now the CBI has also denied the right to the citizens to dig for any information on this case under RTI query. Thank God, there is no RTI at a personal level to know one’s salary! 

No, by no means do I intend to take a dig on my dear Gujaratis. Not at all. 

Nevertheless, if you think through it, many of these good-humoured Gujarati U/A have the heart of a good Samaritan. They keep themselves updated about the status of the aspiring boys and girls/men and women who are ‘marriage material’. Our U/A would never let go of an opportunity to play the role of a marriage broker and that too without any brokerage. A good Samaritan after all! If some Jigneshbhai’s son has already crossed the age of 27 and has not found any Aishwarya Rai for himself in spite of a decent salary or a good business, or if some Sonalben’s daughter has not found an Akash Ambani even after 25, they will consider it their utmost, unsaid responsibility to find an appropriate match for him and her.

Overall, Gujaratis are hard-working, industrious people, be it in business, stock market, or family matters. They rise like a phoenix from the ashes after every failure. Even in the case of finding an alliance. If either of the parties involved in the alliance denies the marriage proposal, naturally the ego of our U/A is bruised, however, in no time, they get back into action. Once they have dug their heels in, they would not respite until the mission is accomplished. 

Generally, Gujaratis have two preferences –  beauty with brains or money with brains. The lucky ones may get all three – beauty, money, and brains.

As I said, I don’t intend to take a dig on Gujaratis, if I dig a little more, I am sure men and women across cultures will have similar preferences. By and large. 

You need an incredible amount of self-confidence to go digging around in someone’s brain – Ben Carson

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I Need A Wife Too, Twinkle!

Clue 1: Do you remember the devil of the 1990s? The one in a green gown like a cape, 2 horns on his shimmering bald head, an ominous green snake around his shoulders, long green nails, and a mocking smile. 

Clue 2: Neighbour’s envy, owner’s pride!

Does the bell ring for you? Yes, I am sure you do remember – the ones who are in their 40s and above will do – the advertisement for Onida TV with the above tagline. The company has of course changed its tagline since TV is no more a commodity to envy. Unless you suffer from envy because you do not have a Smart TV. 

Hey, wait! I have no intention to add to your knowledge of the definition of ‘envy’ and its 2 kinds – ‘malicious envy’ and ‘benign envy’. You can just read it, if you want to, by clicking on the hyperlink. 

What I intend to talk about is how sometimes I envy #TwinkleKhanna. Of course, I enjoy reading her works with scintillating humour and scathing sarcasm. Her puns are fun. The reason for my envy is because of the time she can invest in writing. But you know what, I got to know that she envies #AmishTripathi – the author whose novels have a mythological aspect associated with them. Twinkle has confessed her envy on one of the talk shows.

In the talk show held by the Hindustan Times, both the authors, Twinkle and Amish shared their daily routines. What time they wake up, their writing hours, the change in their career. Basically about an author’s life and their works. Twinkle goes on to say that a man doesn’t have to worry about sending kids to school and running around the house in the morning. He is not a wife and a mother. This is the major reason for her being benignly envious of Amish. Yeah, stereotypically true. 

It seemed that Twinkle had done proper research on Amish. How he spends around 30 – 45 minutes reading four different newspapers and does pooja for about half an hour. How he keeps some cream biscuits handy while writing.

While he could use a few morning hours in knowing what’s happening outside in the world so as to get some inspiration for his writings, Mrs Khanna would remain busy sending her kids to school. And somewhere during this show or a different one – I don’t remember – she remarks that she yearns to have a privilege like Amish, but for that, she continues – ‘I need a wife’. 

This statement stuck with me. I realised. Hey! I too need a wife. 

No, no. Don’t get me wrong. I do not fall in the ‘other’ gender category. I always check the box against ‘F’ on forms. 

This reminds me of a hilarious incident that happened to me when I started designing after my college. I know I am diverging from my topic but, you know, nowadays diversions are what we see all around in the city. And as if this is not enough, there are people who think that their fathers have built the roads and they have all the rights to use them as they want. They block them, barricade them by parking scooters or putting a multitude of bamboos whenever they please, either for marriage or some religious functions or some political bhasan. So, it’s like a subset of a set of diversions. 

Diversions seem to have gotten into my small head. 

Back to what I was saying. One of my cousins and I were, and are, quite close to each other. We were partners in women’s wear design. We would chat for hours outside my house discussing designs and other things. At times she would lean against my scooter in such a way that her face would be quite close to mine. Naturally, we also had secrets. But our body language seemed to have sent the wrong message to someone who was always watching us from above. I am sure it would not have mattered to the Father in the heaven that we were different from others as He didn’t mind it in the time of Mahabharata and Ramayana as well.

Purush napunsak nari va jiv charachar koi / Sarv bhav bhaj kapat taji mohi param priy soi.
(Any man, any transgender, any woman, any living being, as long as they give up deceit and come to me with love for all, they are dearest to me.) – Immortal India by Amish Tripathi

– https://www.hindustantimes.com/

We realized that it was her nani who kept an eye on us. She lived across from my ancestral house. She seemed to spy on us and our behaviour. Maybe, she wanted to make sure we followed the PDA policy. Why? Because during that time Deepa Mehta’s movie ‘Fire’ was in the news. And our dear nani with big diamond studs fancied us to be in some unnatural relationship. I am sure she would have been elated and relieved when my cousin chose a man to marry after a few years. 

So, back to the context – ‘I need a wife too’. 

It is almost a year without any job and I am comparatively free and relaxed. I have created an opportunity for myself to read and write. However, as a middle-class woman, I still can’t manage to live my life like Twinkle Khanna. Nor even like Amish Tripathi. Many times, fruitlessly I have tried clapping my hands with authority in the hope of getting my work done by some attendants. Sadly, no one came through the wooden doors. But it makes me feel good to think that even if I don’t have people at my beck and call, I still have some people who envy my life as well.

You see, life is a full circle, with some diversions of course. 

Many people have told me that they envy my life. Life with lesser responsibilities and the privilege and freedom to do what I want to do. Yeah, at least I do not have to wait for a husband who also returns from work and spends more time on the mobile than spending time with the family. At least, I don’t have to make haste in preparing meals for the family immediately after I freshen up. And, at least, I don’t have to handle my kids and their homework singlehandedly most of the time.  

Hey! Should I take some pride to be the owner of such a privilege while making my neighbours writhe in envy? 

Source of the image – https://t.pimg.jp/061/780/991/1/61780991.jpg