RooBaRoo

All my Public writing

Life as a cliche'

How does it feel to be a mother?
Well! Big question! Very philosophical! Motherhood is a very heavy word. Has the air of sacrifice above all else.
For all the world, I certainly do not feel sacrificial!


For the time being I'll leave the experience of "motherhood", & rather tell you my experience of the phenomenon "baby"
Next few posts are about this phenomenon.


Baby feels good
:)
Yes, "good" with a smiley!
I feel all buttery elated when I watch her.
When she's swaddled (bundled up), lying between my body & my hand, I feel her movements that I used to feel inside my tummy.
I feel relief that I had a live healthy baby.
I feel a (yet) undescribable feeling that this is mine.
I feel that this is a source of happiness right next to me, something I can only describe as a Bundle of life.



Does reluctance reflect deep guilt?

The First Administrative Reforms Commission was formed in 1966, chaired by Morarji Desai. The Commission submitted 20 reports into the Mid- 1970s, finally tabling  a report indicating implementation position in Nov 1977 before the parliament, the year of the fall of Indira Gandhi.

The recommendations of the Commission were inclined to rely on the Govt offices, to appoint those, who will be to look into the gross irregularities of these office.
e.g., "These authorities should be independent of the executive as well as the legislature and the judiciary. The Lok Pal should be appointed by the President on the advice of the Prime Minister. The PM shall consult the Chief Justice of India and the Leader of the Opposition. The Lok Pal shall have the same stature as the Chief Justice of India and can be removed only by impeachment. The Lokayuktas shall have similar powers as the Lok Pal and shall be equivalent to the Chief Justice of a High Court. Their appointment should, as far as possible, be non-political."

The committee might have considered the President, the PM, the leader of the opposition to be above such pettiness that might result in a skewed appointment, but by today's standards, neither is this suggestion a description of " non-political" , nor "independent of the executive as well as the legislature and the judiciary ". Case in point - P. J. Thomas, appointed as Chief Vigilance Commissioner, with no less than a criminal case pending, has reduced India's official corruption-fighting efforts nothing but a PJ - a Pathetic Joke, in the international community.

UPA Govt is in dire straits as corruption charges pile up like never before ... It's not new, but public sentiment is at the end of its tether. Can an organization be questioned for actions of decades ago? Are the same individuals who constituted the Government then, still in position? 

However, there still are innumerable questions which are as recent as the date, & the present Govt is yet full of individuals who are by no means in the clear. Even more dissappointing it is when the Premier of a country throws in the towel & cites powerlessness in face of a coalition. This is the same premier, of whom we were proud, at least tried to be proud, what an accomplished economist, applauded academician he is, remember an e-mail forward saying "Who does this Resume' belong to" ... celebrating the most learned Prime Minister in the world! Alas!

Is a learned leader indeed weak in practical situations? A similarly sophisticated PM Gujral, had spent 10 months leading the United Front ... until Congress withdrew its support again. Arguably, that was the most unstable coalition. Is it a matter of coincidence? Or is it that a cultured individual is too naturally courteous to show some backbone in face of chaos? Or do volatile coalitions consciously choose moppetty leaders? Or are these leaders truly "victims" of  unprincipled democracy?

The real question is, do we want leaders who project themselves as victims, however intellectual they be, however sound their economic strategies, they are tripping over their own "resources" ?

One of the keys of the bunch !

Is "how"
It's said, "know-how" is useless without "know-why"!
True ... the answer to "how" is often through the "why" ... one has to understand the cause-effect relationships, to take control of a process ...
Yet, "how" is a word important to me.

When You ask "How is he?", You generally mean, how "he" is keeping, his health, his finances, his mood.
Occasionally, You might mean what kind of a person is "he", to figure out whether to befriend him, or how to best approach him.
But do you mean how he functions? What makes him tick?
You should.
If You are really concerned about him.
Or You really want to be effective with him.
Then the former two senses of the word are superficial.
It's the last sense that matters.

When You wonder, "How could this happen", are You listening to yourself?
If You are to prevent another of the kind, You must take your own thoughts seriously ... & find out exactly how it happenned!

When You despair "How can I", are You sure that's what You must think? Would You rather not be thinking "How can I NOT?"
... Source unknown quote says "Be careful what you wish for, it might just come true." ... so beware of unwitting wishes too ...

lovable animal

The farmville bull is a magnificent  animal.
One of z better animated parts of Farmville.
He is cool.

Smiles. Calmly. Do live bulls smile?
He's satisfied with his life.
Scratches z ground. Closes his eyes. Puffs. If I had a farm & a farmhouse, I would want an animal just like z Farmville bull.
& z farmville piglet.
 It does not look stupid like z farmville pigs.
It turns it's head & closes it's eyes.
Like it knows how cute it is.
Just gives you a demo ... huge eyes. I want an animal just like z farmville piglet. Of course it will grow up.
& they'll both die.
Humans are so tediously long-living in comparision.
Once I found a baby squirrel. It's parents must have died, eaten by some cat.
It was mousy, & raw pink, its tail was bare & its eyes were shut.
We fed it with an ink dropper.
It lived. It grew. It grew hair.
It's name was Meechu.
It scurried around. I fed it, but din't know how to teach it to climb a tree. & certainly not how to teach it to forage for food.
She grew a bushy tail. She started sporting stripes. She started looking like a real little squirrel. She sat in my hand quietly.
I never heard her call.
I've read about people rearing orphaned baby squirrels & releasing them in z wild.
But there was something that I din't do right.
I do not know what that was.
One day in winter, I woke up & found her dead.
I buried her under z Lemon tree.
The neighbours were playing "Sexy eyes" when I was digging. I remember Meechu when I hear that song.

Single

Proud to be single & unavailable !
A situation can mean so many different things to different people!
Recently I congratulated an old classmate when she (while I was online) changed her facebook status to married.
She replied saying she wasn't,
& had changed the status to ward off unwelcome advances ...
Never knew such was needed! Who knows, maybe successful single (read available) & mature (in THIS case, read bitter) women are so much in demand!
If I really were single, & had disposed of, or shaken off daily-basis responsibilities towards others (non-spouse-non-offspring), God knows what I'd be doing ...
Maybe I'd take an IVO foreign posting (if they gave me) ... perhaps I'd have become a RD personality before I die?
or maybe loan my way into Cambridge, knowing fully well I'll never be able to repay my way back home ...
or maybe I'd have gone back to Hyd, which I love, & watched it turn crowdier & unrulier ... & battled the cliche's & bitterness of "the field" ... (rehabilitation), perhaps I'd have become another of those old spinsters of Disability Rehab in India!!!
or maybe I'd have gone joined 'Rupantar' & lost myself in z roughness of this state ...Chhattisgarh
If suppose I also had a lot of money - none my own, but mine to spend ... well -  that's a completely different imagination altogether ...

The final project

When I die,

I'll wrap up during z night, my entire life, my loves & labours of love, my complaints & pain, my expalnations& apologies in what format & formatting God will want. Hard copy soft copy or heart copy. Don't know what they use in heaven.
Spell-check it, arrange in chapters & subchapters, attach, tabulate & annex, & keep it plain & simple. then it'll be 4 a.m. or equivalent. I'll bind, publish or whatever, package it.
6 a.m. I'll brush my teeth, though I'd not slept through z night. I'll watch z Sunrise. I'll change & comb my hair. I'll go up to God's office. & as soon as they open, I'll submit my life at z submissions desk, & take an obscure seat in their reception, lay my head on z backrest & close my eyes ...




IF I went to heaven,
It'd be a hammock on a secluded beach, & 10 a.m. forever.
I'd be under z open sky, in between z blinding Sun above & z blinding reflection to one side. I'd be so tired that if I close my eyes, I sleep. I'll lie there, in the slumber, z rest never was, drifting between z states of awake & asleep.
When U die, on way to your heaven, do see me once.

Ghost of the Pehelwaan & Gran Khit-khit

In the middle of 2 villages (equally far away) in the state of Uttar Pradesh, in the Gendamau Nahar (Marigold canal), below a strong bamboo footbridge, lived (?) the ghosts of a Pehelwaan (bodybuilder)& of a highly disgruntled old lady ...

This is on the way from my husband's town to his Granny's village, flanked by Bajra farms on both sides.

On one side of the canal, the Pehelwan is known as Kumbh Mall, on the other, simply as Koni Ram. It's variously fabled how he came to be a ghost. Some say, he was a lathail (Martial art fighter with stick), & was killed fighting dacoits on behalf of his master. Others insist that he stuffed himself with one
poori too much in a poori-eating competition, released a single burp, & happily closed his eyes, never to open them again.
Either way, his life dream had remained unfulfilled - that of winning a major wrestling tournament, in his part of the world.

The other presence is a frail, hunched figure in a White Saree, silver hair tied in a high knot. (Neither is reported to wear any warm clothes in winter.)We do not know the name or origin of the geriatric madam, but what we do know is that her daughter-in-law was a no-good! She never cooked her anything good, & our poor gran died with her gastronomical desires ungratified!
She might look like a dusty relic, but Hell hath no fury like a Mother-in-Law scorned! Don't think that just because she died, she'll forget how her D-i-L neglected her!

If she caught you one evening near sundown, (If you happened to cross by
Gendamau Nahar), she might suddenly demand for a bowl of Lapsi, or some Bedahi, or a Bhakoswa! & Vintage womanly swear words will be hurled at you, as well as the D-i-L (who must be dead herself, many years now!)

&
Pehelwaan! Oh! Poor lost soul! He challenged to a match of wrestling, every soul that he lays his sight on, then & there, & there meaning, in the water!
Those who fell prey to the duo, would be simultaneously be threatened, chased, & be made a tug-of-war between z two tales. They literally had to run for their lives, (there was the very real danger of drowning in the canal). There was no respite from this twin assault, until you reached a village, when they would reluctantly disappear, at the edge of human habitation, though they had no issues with pouncing on unsuspecting (human) passers-by within their territory...

But if on reading my post, a Parapsychologist is inspired to go there, & meet in person & have a conversation with two alive & kicking ghosts, he's in for a disappointment.
last month, going to visit my Husband's Granny, I crossed the place. He pointed it out to me. The footbridge is now a
pucca structure. But sadly, no water in the canal.
No-one has seen either of them, since last 15-16 yrs.

Our theory is that the concrete scared them away. They no longer feel at-home.
If urbanization is driving even the dead, the spirits, the eternal from their abode,
Think of the tigers & the dolphins, the turtles & the kingfishers ... certainly less formidable than a indestructible ambitious bodybuilder, & a indestructible grumpy Granny!

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About Me

Why does anyone write? Mostly, because they cannot help it ... Speaking requires an audience. Writing does not require a readership. When I started this blog, I was new at my job, just about to get married, highly confused about what to do with life, highly dissatisfied with myself, & devoid of any "responsibilites" as they say in Indian Middle Class. Oh yes! Also, I used to imagine the populace to be divided into 3 equal thirds, economically, & the middle third was the middle class. I was a "Young adult". Now I am a middle-aged auntie. & I have found out that the lower 90% is the lower class, the top 1% is the upper class, & I am the 9%.

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