Sunday, September 7, 2008

Ho!!! He uttered S, E and X words together !!!


“Son, anyone sitting on this seat?” a man (should be around 65) asked me in the bus while I was traveling from Chandigarh to Delhi.

“No, you may sit here,” I responded and he sat.
Later on I sensed that he was heavily drunk.

To my right was sitting a girl, beautiful, slim and dressed in western. Shy and Conservative (at least the first impression I got), apparent that she wasn’t interested in talking to any of us either.

The bus started and thanks to smoothness of Indian roads, we soon starting getting bounces. The old man was also bouncing. Till bouncing it was fine, but as we were sitting near front door and as he was getting imbalanced also at every jerk, it was making me scary. I couldn’t afford seeing him flying out of the running bus and dying in front of my eyes.

“Sir, would you like to sit in the middle seat?” I offered. I think I had only this way to make him come in the middle, as it was not a good option to tell him that Sir, as you are drunk and out of your senses, you will fly out of bus by bounces any time, so please come in the middle to dodge it!!

“Sure son. In fact, I too wanted to come in the middle!! You took words out of my mouth,” he was getting a bit more formal. I didn’t know that he was having this anxious desire to come in the middle seat and didn’t understand it either even when he came in the middle.

“Uncle, please keep your hand in your seat’s boundary,” the female voice requested humbly after some time.
Uncle, making the excuse of the same imbalance thing reciprocated.

We were out of Chandigarh now, the bus lights had been put off and only small bulbs were remained lit on, and bus was talking to its bosom buddy air now.

“Uncle, please put your head off my shoulder,” the female voice registered her objection again.

“You are like my daughter. This boy is like my son. You are my children,” the bastard said, laughed a cunning smile and reciprocated

Every time after raising her objection, she was staring at me as if asking my assistance by her eye-language.

I and that beautiful girl looked at each other and had our eye contact. Her eyes were of course very beautiful but had that disappointment and sadness . I felt that her eyes were talking to me and were saying something. Like saying that why you sat at the extreme left leaving me fighting with this brutal demon alone!! Her eyes hadn’t the tears, but the way those eyes were talking to me were piercing my heart out.

10 minutes passed and the old man pretended to be sort-of sleeping.
“Uncle, why can’t you keep your feet away,” shouted the female voice of the girl to break the tranquility of the ambience, but went unheard by many as the bus driver was playing some music at full volume.

I saw that the old man had his right feet in between feet of that now-pathetic girl.

“Excuse me,” I talked to that girl for first time.
“Would you mind coming to extreme left,” I asked. This way she would come to extreme left, I in the middle and that drunkard to extreme right.

The happiness in her eyes and her eye-language told me that this was what she wanted. The old man stared at me like an enraged bull but was helpless as probably he had got the feeling by our eye-contact that any word uttered and the bus becoming a smack down and this slur-of-society beaten up by me like anything. But because it could have made others in the bus take entertainment out of that girl, I better chose to refrain beating that savage.

“Thanks,” the girl said after settling at her new place and I nodded.
“Sophia, she said and forwarded her hand for hand-shake
“Ravi,” and we shaked hands

She was happy to come to extreme left but still had trauma of what that old-drunkard was trying to do. The trauma that he was trying to dis-respect a girl who should be definitely his daughter’s age, that how his own daughter would be managing at home and that when will this stop happening!!

“I was thinking to come out of this seat and sit on the stairs of the bus,” she said and I really didn’t know what to respond to that girl.

Sometimes in life we speak a lot and sometimes we get such moments where our silence becomes the best solace for other person, so I chose to opt the 2nd one but she chose to continue and to open her heart out.

“Why can’t we be respected,” she questioned.
“Why can’t we travel alone at night and why can’t we stay alone in apartments” she had utmost pain in her heart.
“When we walk on the road, why we are stared at like we are the prey of these brutal predators? Why they scan our body and what do they think how would we be feeling on seeing them doing this?” she had tears in her eyes and her voice was breaking.

I really didn’t know what to do. I wanted to wipe her tears but sometimes tears help more than sympathy. So I chose to be unsympathetic.

“Ravi, tell me one thing. Why doesn’t it happen abroad, in western countries?” she questioned.

“Probably because they are advanced societies,” I answered.
“Why can’t we be advanced then? What is stopping us? And why we are made to die every day experiencing these traumas?” she questioned.

“Our taboos,” I responded
“And what’s the way to break those taboos,” she queried
“Sex Education,” I thought but didn’t utter. I am an IT guy and not a conservative, but even I faltered on uttering the S,E and X words together.

“Sex Education is the only way,” came the voice.
I agreed to her nodding my head. I was feeling ashamed that I couldn’t say this before she did, but by now I had realized that we still feel shy of intonating S, E and X together

And it wasn’t my fault. We have been brought up like this that the time S, E and X words are uttered by you together, many eyes frown, many surprised making you feel like an alien and many making you feel disgraceful.

“Ho!!! He uttered the S, E and X words together,” one would wonder.
“The SEX did you say??” other would ask

“Would Sex Education serve the purpose? Would these predators stop their misdeeds?” I had a genuine question and I asked Sophia
“At least there will be awareness in society, people will have correct knowledge, children will know what molestation is and activities of these bastards will be restrained,” she said and continued.

“We girls won’t feel shy registering our concerns and raising our voice. The nation will have fewer sick people. Youth will know that bodily changes are due to hormonal changes and will have proper knowledge of all this. But this all can be done only thro’ proper education and honest education. Thence staring at us, probing our bodies and making us feel disrespected will eventually stop automatically. We will be a nation of sensible and healthy-minded people. Automatically we will be advanced” she stopped.

“It was making sense to me, but is it possible in a so-called volte-faced nation like ours? The nation where culture and civilization is talked of but whose society is deteriorating every day. The nation where we still talk of values and ethics, but are amongst most corrupt. The nation where we don’t want to talk sex, but girls are insecure, angry and disappointed at the apathy of governments and society at large?” I had all these thoughts in my mind.

I stared at her, she was looking very vibrant and energetic. Her hands were making movements and her gestures had a tinge of revolution

"I expect our generation to be audacious to give sex education to its posterity.I would render sex education to my children at least so that my daughter won't have to experience that dishonor which I do and my son won't do any such thing which would make daughters of others feel that trauma." sophia replied.

She had the solution, the way by which she could stay alone in her house without her parents worrying about her, the way by which she could travel alone without any panic, the way by which she hasn’t to be at anyone’s mercy or assistance.

Thence came Delhi and we parted.

I am aboard the flight to Bangalore while I am writing this blog. I am envisioning the dream of Sophia’s India. The dream of India with an advanced-society. The society where people have knowledge of sex and the society where Sophias haven’t to make any more pleas to Uncles, and haven’t to stare at any Ravis for assistance.

The shangrila India !!!

Monday, September 1, 2008

Punjabi, North Indian or a Complete Indian ??

“Congrats Ravi,”a friend not belonging to Punjab came and patted on my shoulder. Confused I rewinded my history of that day and day before not to find any such single achievement for which I should have been congrated.
“For what,”muddled I asked.
“You guys won the gold medal,”he disclosed.
“you guys??? Gold? What do you mean?,” I have never ever won even a single bronze,so was completely at sea
“Abhinav Bindra won the gold at Olympics,he belongs to your Punjab.Isn’t it,” he clarified.
I felt like shouting but kept mum.The day passed and the episode ended.

“Congrats Agni,”another friend not belonging to Punjab came and patted on my shoulder while I was working on one of my blog posts.
It was kind of Déjà vu !!
“Now for what,”I asked
“your Pugilist Akhil defeated the world champion in boxing and Sushil Kumar won the bronze in wrestling,”he shamelessly uttered,
It was getting tougher for me to withstand these compliments anymore(I am a choleric type person) but again I didn’t counter.But these two incidents made me wonder about my identity !!

Who am I? A Punjabi, a North Indian or an Indian?

When mallu P.T.Usha represents in Olympics,doesn’t she represent India? When Mumbaikar Sachin Tendulkar hits a century,doesn’t that score add to India’s total tally? When Tamilian Mahesh Bhupati hits an ace in Davis cup,isn’t it India that wins? When Bengali Rabindranath tagore is awarded Noble prize,isn’t it India that feels that honor?When Bihari Kautilya is talked of and saluted for his vision and intellect,isn’t it entire India that is esteemed.

Then why am I singled out as a Punjabi? Why shouldn’t I congrat these guys of my team(those friends were my teammates in my project) for the Olympics medals and why am I made to solely cherish these victories?

Offended I contemplating these thoughts left the office in the evening. It was raining heavily and Auto-people spiral their fares 3-4 times during such odd-weathers,saying that it’s their business time. It’s unimaginable to ride a bus in a metropolis because riding a bus would mean to stand on a feet for the entire trip of 10-12 km.

So I rather chose to take the lift from any 2-wheeler.

“Where are you going sir,”I asked a person on bike,around 40-45 years in age who was waiting at the traffic signal
“Where are you from,”he furiously asked.
“God why everyone is asking me my identity,”I thought
“Punjab,”I humbly replied.
“Then what are you doing in my state,”he hurled
“You go back to your state and ask there for the lift,”he bluntly and shamelessly told

It was my 3rd time since morning when I was being told that I am not an Indian but a Punjabi, that I don’t belong to India and that there’s nothing called India, so I couldn’t refrain anymore

“Who in the hell are you to tell me to go back to my state,”I shouted
“Who are you? You bastard,” I was completely mal-treating him now. Enough was enough. I needed the decision.
“This is my state.How dare you told me to go from here.This land doesn’t belong to your father. It’s as much mine as it’s yours,”I made it very clear to him.
“I can come anywhere,go anywhere,stay anywhere in India,I haven’t to take license from anyone to go anywhere in India,” I said.

I was furious, but I wanted to cry as well,to weep but as I am a male and as males don’t cry in public,so I didn’t(but I am not a male chauvinist)

It was raining heavily but I had the volcanic lava boiling deep down at heart. I wanted to slap him,but as I had attended my company’s soft-skills training the same day,so under the stupor of that soft-skill thing,I didn’t.

Reached home at night to switch on the TV to find Vijender Kumar reserving the bronze by reaching the Semi-finals. I knew now what I had to do in office the next day.

“Congrats Lakshmi,”I told one of my teammate,the same boy who was the first to wish me the previous day
“For what,”came the reply.
“you guys won another bronze,”I replied,winked and moved to next cubicle
“Congrats Madhu,”I felicitated the other guy.
“What for, man??” this was his turn to be bemused
“You won another bronze in boxing,” I said
“Now your tally of medals in Olympics is 3.I am ecstatic and blissful.Let’s celebrate,”I kept talking and then came back to my cubicle

Both of them had understood that what I implied by this deed. Embarrassed,ashamed and ignominious, they came to my cubicle.

“Ravi,sorry for yesterday,” they said. They seemed really sorry for their deed.
“Thanks man. We didn’t even realize our misdeed,” Madhu said.
“It’s ok. You realized it, this makes my day,” I replied
“We don’t need Punjab or Haryana or Kashmir or tamilnadu or Bengal or
Assam or Karnataka, we need India. We are better off being Indians,”they said unequivocally. Now I was a happy being.

It is 12 midnight while I am writing this blog,I have just returned from Firangi paani(a funky pub of bangalore) where we 3 along with 3 others from some other states had had a treat to celebrate the Olympic medals of 3 Indians, rather than those of any Punjabis or Haryanvis or Maharashtriyans or of any other state.