Close The Gates!

Past few days have been difficult for Army Cantonments. The defence ministry has ordered all the cantonment roads to be opened to general public and all of us fauji wives can't stop worrying since then.

I found the following post on fellow army wife and blogger Neha's facebook wall: 

In the last 7 n half years of my married life to the man in uniform I have

- lived in 8 houses.. temporary and permanent, some good some bad
- my kid, just 4 and half years of age, has changed 3 schools in 2 years of schooling
- everytime we shift she cries for her school, for her house, for her friends
- I have learned to be brave and take every moment as it comes, learned not to get attached to things but just love the people
- I have lived in 6 states with varied climates and temperature and diverse cultures
- I have forgotten about my career and decided to stand for my family while he is away

All this to provide support to the "man in uniform" and help him serve the nation..

But if the nation cannot take care of us .. I think it all goes in vain..

It may be Neha's post, but the story is same for me too and for almost all the army wives, only the numbers may change depending upon years of marriage. The sentiments ring true for most of us.

Somehow, I find myself on both sides of the cantonment gate. This is a matter of deep concern for an army wife as well as a civilian.

Amid scorching Indian summer, this burning topic is keeping fauji wives uneasy (though 'uneasy' is an understatement!). If you are a civilian reading this, you may not be aware of the turmoil that we are going through, 15 to 20% of you may even be in total bliss, enjoying a little detour through the scenic cantonment in your city, now that all the gates are open. I am saying unaware because, none of my civilian friends, not even my family members are talking about it. There is a complete absence of any activity in this regard on social media, nobody seems for it, nobody seems against it, whereas every army wife is talking about it on all the platforms.

I am not saying all of these things as an army wife who wants to save her idyllic garden from prying eyes of people. Trust me, this is coming from someone who has been a civilian throughout her life and still is. Me and my sister studied in a school situated inside a high security Air Force Station 5 kms away from home, and we never faced any difficulty going to school, along with scores of other civilian students from neighborhood. The cantonment in our city is an open one, which means all the areas that a civilian needs to visit are open. A cantonment may house both faujis and civilians. This is true for most of the open cantts. It is a matter of common sense that sensitive areas should be kept closed for non concerned people in national interest. Here are some of the reasons why certain areas should be kept closed:

Opening all roads effectively makes army facilities and families sitting ducks inviting terror attacks, unwanted attention of miscreants, weakening the spirit of the soldiers who guard the frontiers without worrying about their family's security and safety back home.

I hope you understand that this is not a fight between army and civilians, this is an issue between policymakers and public. If the lawmakers want to compromise national security and peace, citing lame excuse of public inconvenience, then its their failure, their poor urban planning and execution, showing their lazy and corrupt ways and their shortsighted vested interest. They cannot make us (public) suffer for their failures.

Give it a thought.. does this issue only affect army wives? Should you be so quiet about an issue that might have serious implications on YOUR national security? Are we not a part of your society too? You, who change your profile picture and burn candles for women's safety, is your convenience suddenly more important than our lives? The ministry has issued a foolish order and you, blinded by the worthless sensation of a victory, are rejoicing, not understanding that this is a live example of how politics divides and rules! That a wide gap has been deliberately created where there was just a line, that this one order has brought out palpable hatred between army and civilian communities where there was none! This petty victory may cost you your future wars!

(Please excuse for a badly written post, there is so much to tell, I could write a book on this. Hope to share more on the topic soon.Thank you for your patience.)

Love, Shove And Blue Hills

Loving It: 

1. Tea: This incredible place has so much to offer to tea lovers like me. The fact that I have a tea lover neighbor increases the charm manifolds. I had swore off green tea, even for health reasons. She introduced me to her super tasty green tea infused with black pepper, ginger, lemon juice, sweetened with jaggery and now I am addicted to it. Then she went off to the local market and bought these ultra delicious flavored black tea bags and kindly gave me samples from each flavor. Now I am crazily in love with these and have declared Peach flavor tea the love of my life. I gifted one pack to my sister who confirmed that they tasted amazing.  

                            

But since the pack has four different flavors, I am saving trying to save the peach tea bags, having them very occasionally, because, hey, that's what you do with the things you love most. You keep them. But there are days like today when it is just me and my peach tea. So Peach tea it is! Cheers!

2. This Weather, This Place:  The weather here is amazing and while the rest of India was burning under the scorching sun during June and July, we were curling up under cozy quilts and sipping the above mentioned beverage, clad in sweatshirts and woollen socks. The incredibly picturesque blue hills and the green carpet like tea gardens spread about us create a magical scenery together. Though I am busy in other activities so much that I rarely find time for a walk these days, the knowledge is enough that I can take a walk in bright green tea gardens under swirling steamy clouds whenever I wish.  

Shoving It:

1. This Weather, This Place (Again!): While the list of lovely things about this place can still go on, the only thing that is enough to spoil all the love is the prevalence to common cold and cough in this environment. Cold, gloomy and damp atmosphere and sunlight playing peek-a-boo are the usual weather details here which make people, especially children susceptible to viral infections and once the illness starts, it spreads like a wave in the entire neighborhood. A couple of weeks ago, almost every human being in sight, man or woman, adult or child was coughing and sneezing, harbouring germs and passing on the legacy to others who were not sick. All this becomes overwhelming and unbearable after a point and one wants to run away to a sunny and cheerful place. And if you are someone who reads this blog regularly, you would know the exact location I am talking about. Oh, how I miss those sunny days that I spent nestled in my bean bag!

To add to the gloom, sometimes the wind starts howling unpredictably. It goes on for many days at end and the noise makes one go crazy. It is louder than an ocean and gives us sleepless nights. On the second (also the topmost) floor of a building which stands high on a hill, this howling and growling wind is even more noisier and makes me feel like a caged bird. I would not have mentioned this noisy wind if it would have stopped only at that. Take a look at the following picture.

The broken tree as seen above was standing in front of a window which also provided me an awesome view of the town spread on the hill in front of our neighborhood. One windy morning I woke up and thought something was missing in the entire view from the window. After a few moments I realized that the green foliage that framed the scene was missing and my jaw dropped as I peeped outside. The tree had broken into half vertically and then had fallen on the road, incidentally on our car boot, scarring it minorly. My sweet tree which was also home to many birds was gone, and my car was dented, all because of this unsettling and utterly noisy wind. 

When my maid told me that the weather was going to stay like this for a couple of months, I was heartbroken, Thankfully, it got over after a week or so and it is not windy anymore apart from an occasional cool breeze. At least we are sleeping comfortably. Phew!

The blue hills have been a mixed experience till now. It is taking a lot of effort to like this place, quite different from Himalayas, which are effortlessly adorable and feel like home. I cannot say it enough that I miss those Himalayan days!

Kids' music: Is There Such A Thing?!

.Scene 1. I was doing something in the kitchen of my first floor apartment in Delhi, when I heard a group of little girls (in the age group of 5-6 years i guessed) singing 'chikni chameli' downstairs, possibly they were dancing also, their sweet voices totally off key, completely immersed in this activity, with nothing whatsoever to do with the world. An unintentional smile crossed my face. I remembered how we as little schoolgirls used to present 'ek-do-teen' or 'nau nau choodiyan' whenever the opportunity came. I am absolutely sure that they did not understand the literal or otherwise meaning of the song. They also did not know what 'Pauwa' means or what are the implications of coming alone, stealthily. They were only spilling out the words with great enthusiasm, oblivious to the fact that adults were listening from windows above and drawing meanings, other than the little girls intended to.

Scene 2. Years ago, I went to this hip-hop dance class held in my office in Hyderabad, where one of my senior colleagues used to come with his wife and two preteen kids. As the trainer switched on the music on the first day, and the song blared across the hall ' I wanna f*** you', the colleague's wife mouthed a big 'no' with a crinkled forehead, but rest of us were already taking positions, trying to gyrate like the trainer from Shiamak Davar academy. I do not know what the family did, as I had to discontinue the classes for some reason. The trainer, however stuck to this song for the final performance as I came to know from my colleagues later.

Scene 3.  Last week, on the dance floor of a party, I stopped dancing suddenly and looked around at the crowd going crazy, which was a mix of young and old alike. What stopped me? The lyrics of the song which first appealed to children by saying 'I am a Superman' and then suddenly descended to the level where the protagonist claimed 'kar dunga maa-behen'. 'Is it only me?' was my precise thought, because no one seemed to care, and from toddlers who had just learnt to walk, to officers on the verge of retirement, everybody was busy dancing. While I was standing there, in the middle of the dance floor, like a dead duck in thunderstorm, wondering what is wrong with everybody's ears! Read more on World of Moms...

Ye Saali Gaali...

How many 'Gaalis' (Expletives, abuses) do you know? What do they mean? How many of them do not speak about a woman's dignity (or lack of it)? Do you think you ever mean what you say in a gaali?

Many years ago, while we were enjoying the new freedom of  a job after studies, I used to be the flatmate of a girl who started taking pride in using abuses while talking, courtesy her new friends at work. Accustomed to the much polite Lucknowi Tehzeeb(?), I used to cringe listening to her gaalis in brash Punjabi style, which were more derogatory and hurtful to her own kind (i.e. women) rather than being amusing and uplifting. The girl refused to let go of her gaalis as she thought they made her sound cool. NOT!

Of late, Hindi movies have glorified gaalis via movies like Ishqiya and Delhi Belly. Sadly, expletives are actually ingrained in daily lingo of UP (The land of Lucknowi Tehzeeb) and Bihar as the writers/directors of these movies claim. Here, gaalis are so much a part of the tongue that two fast friends cannot meet without  addressing each other as 'Saale' which sounds casual and harmless, (but is it?).  We even have Gaali songs in weddings and other functions, and they are pure pornography in lyrics, potent enough to make one's ears bleed, mind it!

The structure and nomenclature of Hindi gaalis is such that they are almost always directed at an innocent, unsuspecting mother or sister somewhere. Gaalis from foreign lands, when used in India, become insipid in comparison to our desi abuses. Imagine calling someone an 'asshole' in Hindi. Would it be as effective and satisfying as a Hindi gaali of the nature of 'mother-sister'? Some people use one or two 'mother-sister' type abuses in every sentence that they speak. They are not bad people. I have personally heard them dish out such smelly, vulgar words without ever giving it a thought. More careful and sophisticated people avoid using expletives in front of women, but among men, they are all the same. Someone in this category, once uttered out a gaali in front of me, and as soon as he realized, he said ' Oh, so sorry!'.

The most cultured, educated men do not refrain from dishing out choicest gaalis once the matter comes to it. I am yet to come across a man who claims otherwise. What is it that urges someone to use gaalis of this nature? Is it the helplessness of not being able to harm the other person physically or in any other way that a word picture of the possible harm is created? Is it about harming a person or a woman (Mother/Sister/Daughter of the person)? Why does a person need to use crude language in order to fight? How does it help? How does committing an act of sexual nature against someone's mother or sister compensate for the loss/ harm/suffering of the abuser?  Are we not propagating 'Rape Culture'? After all, words become thoughts and thoughts become actions.

Its been probably centuries since women have been targeted in this indirect way. Is this the prize that we receive for being a good sister/mother/daughter? The icing on the cake is that we cannot even vent out our frustration by hurling a gaali because it will most likely boomerang.

Man, Woman and Religion: Part I

Time: Early morning

Day: Sunday

Mood: Good

My father in law phones me. The gist of the call was general hi and hello. It also contained the information that my ma-in-law and her co-sister (my husband's chachi) had fasted the previous day as it was Vat Savitri Puja.

My mood suddenly did a U-Turn. Yesterday I had cooked a gorgeous mutton curry and had relished two meals out of it! Could they not tell me earlier? What the.... wait!!!

Why am I feeling guilty? What has fasting or non-veg got to do with my family's well being?

Does this 'fast for a long life of your husband and son' thing happen anywhere else in the world? I do not think so. It is a sole privilege of being born a woman in India that you become the absolute protector of the lives of the men around you. Nowhere else (likely) on earth is a man so weak that he requires his mother, sister, wife, daughter, practically all the females in his family to fast in order to live.

It all looks good and sweet if one looks at it from an angle where it is done out of love (then why don't we do it for our daughters/wives/moms?) and for the sake of tradition & culture (culture has better elements too!)



So much for a son: Chhath Pooja, Bihar's major festival which requires 2-3 days of fasting and many strict rituals. Women (sometimes men too) stand in cold water for hours carrying heavy platters of fruits and other offerings to Sun and Chhath mata.   



Best part is men really don't care about fasts. Heck, they are not even aware most of the times about the upcoming fasts and their 'importance'.

A research says that men do not like it when women at home fast. It not only demands their time and effort, it causes much emotional stress also. Test population: 3, My husband, his father and his grandfather. It is women who take up fasts and other such rituals and pass them on. It is also women who guide and goad their husband/son to gather materials required for the rituals and get seriously angry if everything is not done according to their wish. The target of their anger: Those poor souls for who the fasts are being observed.

It seems like in the name of being religious, women keep spinning a web around themselves so that they are occupied in all these 'vrats' and 'pooja-paath' and never really have to think beyond. How convenient!

Continued...

Dr. No-No from hell!

Some incidents become quite a story to be told and retold and enrich your cache of experience.

This weekend Coco was running a fever and coughing too. We took him to a hospital but the paediatrician was on leave, so the GP saw him and gave paracetamol, which I was already giving him, and an antacid. The doctor said it is a mild throat infection and will be fine in a couple of days.

 

But my husband suspected that the doctor might not have given him antacid meant for babies. After all, only a child specialist can know how to treat a baby. So we took him to a child specialist's clinic. I was surprised to see pregnant women in the waiting room.

Anyways, when our turn came and I proudly (why not? He looks like a little prince!) brought Coco to the doctor and the smartly dressed doctor started almost scolding me instantly: My God! Something is seriously wrong with this baby. Oh, look at his head, its so large, look at his skin, its not fairness, its pallor.He is sick, very very sick. Oh no, he is wincing with pain, no, no don't shake him, it will pain more. What has happened to him?

Me(taken aback and looking at Coco's head and skin): He has fever since  yesterday. I gave him PCM and...

Doc(Shaking her head vigorously): Uh-oh... tch.. is he vomiting?

Me: No, he sometimes brings out milk...

Doc: No, no, he vomits, he does! Doesn't he? tell me how many times he did that today?

Me: 2-3 times but.... (he is already unwell and coughing is troubling him, on top of that his iron drops are making him nauseous and he brings out milk! sigh!!)

Doc: 2-3 times? Means vomiting! See, I told you he is vomiting, but you have not seen all of it. There is a lot more to this. I will not be surprised if you go home and he poops smelly-smelly stools. We will wait for it. It will happen for sure..

Me: ..... ( I have lost you, you look like a psychic, only your glass sphere is not here!)

Doc: I know for sure you feed him a lot of milk from bottles...

Me: Never, in fact he never has formula milk or cow's milk. And he eats too, with a spoon!

Doc: Oh, something is definitely wrong with his nutrition. Tell me what you give him to eat?

Me: Bananas, dal, sooji kheer....

Doc: No, no, you should give him home cooked calorie dense food!

Me(completely defeated): Ok, you tell me what all should I give him!

Doc: Bananas, dal, sooji kheer...

Me: ...............! ( Madam, please take a break, don't praise my child, but don't break my heart. He has not even once had any sickness since birth. What kind of parents do you think we are? We get him checked up regularly. His regular doctor is annoyed with us for asking so many questions about his care and nutrition. I will tell you what is seriously wrong here! You are wearing too much lipstick and it clashes with your white (not grey!) hair. You have not seen anyone with a fair complexion visiting your clinic. My baby is an Indian blond for all I know! If I had a coin for every compliment he gets, I will soon be a millionaire. You are a paediatrician and not a gynaecologist, so you cannot take in pregnant women as your patients and treat unborn children! So please, do not try to dazzle me with your looks and your english. You can go back to conning poor labourers in this godforsaken town. We will wait for you to be arrested!)

Rest of the conversation was a blur... Coming out of her clinic I was completely hyperventilated and numb with shock. While Hubby went to buy medicines, I was clutching Coco and cursing the world for being so cruel. Before he came back, I had made my decision, I had to see another doctor, now!

Within an hour, we were heading home, laughing and happy. The other doctor had examined Coco with patience that only a child specialist can have and had prescribed a cough syrup (which had PCM!).

Oh yes, Dr. No-no also told me how to make poached eggs. Made them, ate them. They were yummy. Thank you dear madam, for it was the only take away from this ordeal.