Testimonial for Pompus Pony

A couple of months back, I was asked, or rather coaxed, much to my consternation, to say something nice and remarkable about one of my distant aunt, who was flying back to U.S. The occasion was a testimonial dinner. Or so it seemed to me, as my mother, knowing my impulsive streak, had issued an ultimatum to me, well in advance, that I was expected to say something good, that I should remember that it is not necessary to be honest all the time, that I should at least try giving the sweeter version of truth.  As far as I was concerned, my poor mother was hoping for a miracle.  My mother knew that I had given this U.S. flying aunt a nickname “Pompous Pony”.  She was pompous, to say the least, and she walked like a pony, the one that you ride at Matheran – swift, jumpy steps. ;-) know you guys might be assuming what I am trying to lead you to.  Well this testimonial dinner proved to be my first social disaster; for I just couldn't play the part, just couldn't be phony and melodramatic, just couldn't manage to lie with a straight face, much to my mother’s indignation. Though secretly I felt I did a great service to my mom, as no one expected her to organize a testimonial dinner any more after that debacle.

This is what exactly happened on that occasion:

My pompous aunt made it a point to see to it that she was the last person to make it to any function. Somehow she was under the delusion that the last guest happens to be a show stopper. To add to my misery, no sooner did she arrive, the guest jumped to being a testimonial dinner in her honour, and smelling the same, she was at her pompous best. No sooner the dinner started, the elders took their turn to say something heart rending about her. One of my uncles, for the reasons best known to him, and the one that I could never understand, went to the extent of calling Ms. Pompous Pony, the purest soul who would attain enlightenment soon. I was wondering how enlightened this uncle really was. I asked my mother whether this uncle knew that Ms. Pompous Pony was flying back to U.S., and not to the Himalayas!!! So what was this enlightenment nonsense all about? Another aunt, sweet though she is, out of the tendency of always saying something good even about the most corrupt soul around, complimented Ms. Pompous Pony about her strong headed character. Again, my mind went racing. I tried recalling the last time Ms. Pompous Pony acted strong headed. Another distant cousin revelled about the cookery skills of Ms. Pompous Pony.  Another one complimented her about her dressing skills. My head was spinning, literally. I discovered that I had smooth liars in my family. ;-) I knew that my turn would come soon. I knew my mother was saying a silent prayer. My mother was praying that in case I do not have anything decent to spurt; I should not be a spoil sport and maintain dignified silence. But when it comes to me, god, as usual, turned deaf to my mother’s prayers. As soon as my turn came, all eyes got stuck at me. I felt as if I was under a scanner when twenty pair of eye cast expectant look at me. I realized why I hated such testimonial dinners.

I completely forgot the lines my mother had taught me.  It was as good as forgetting the answers that you mug up in the last minute without ever understanding what it ever really meant. The little demon within me, was forcing me to speak the truth, only truth, and nothing but the truth. I cleared my throat, fully realizing that my aunt will need anti-depressant, or some other strong anti-psychotic pills that those psychiatrists dole out to control traumas in case she ever happens to read my mind!!! I said that my dear aunt gives me a lot to hope for. Hope that how easy it is to iron out the creases on your life and at the same time making the life of people around you messy and miserable. Oops!!! What was that? Why did I say that? I stammered and stuttered and tried correcting myself. I said that what I meant was that aunt is a female version of Ranjikant!!! She has the art of making the most fictitious things look and sound real!!! Nopes!!! Sorry again!!! I requested my aunt not to misread my unwarranted utterances. I again tried correcting myself, trying to sound as apologetic as I can. I said that what I meant that it’s an art to walk like a jumping pony, dress up in Page 3 fashion, and carry a Baba Ramdev look on your face and at the same time take credit for the success of your husband’s business and your cooks cookery skills, your designers wardrobe choices; when even the new born in your family knows that you are as smart as him or as good a cook as him or as refined as him and that you are so lazy that you possibly need help to change diapers like him!!! It is really an art! Oh Gosh! Why? I mean why on earth I am saying what I am saying??? I saw a glint of tears in my aunt’s eye. For a fraction of second I was dumb enough to assume that she was over whelmed by my testimonial. :-) :-) But my mother was quick enough to make me realize the otherwise.  She asked me to leave the room immediately. I shrugged my shoulders and was about to open my mouth in my defense that I realize that it would be in the interest of all that I leave them alone.

Okay folks! I know I am not Mr. Know It All to philosophies on the pros and cons of testimonials! All that I can say is that a person who really deserves a testimonial would never crave for one. The true testimonials are often left unsaid, for they often get reflected in your actions for the person who deserves your testimonial and not in some fancy sounding words.  If you really love and appreciate someone, show it in your action. Let it not be a one off event!!!

My poor aunt has stopped attending testimonial dinners. :-) Nevertheless, I plan to attend or rather gate crash, (please know that I am not invited for such dinners any more. :P) another one soon. :-)  Will let you folks know!   Till then, let me know such weird incidents or rather eye openers of your life!!!

Aren't we all lawyers in our own right? ;-)

I vividly recall the contempt and disgust on the face of a well-meaning friend when I informed her that I would be studying law as I couldn't make the head and tail out of Science in my junior college years! No sooner did I tell her about my plans to pursue law, I got deluged with her never ending questions and reprimands! This is how she went, “Why law? What is wrong with you? Are you going to stand on the street and yell ‘affidavit’ ‘affidavit’?  Don’t you have any self-respect? You know how these lawyers are! All that they do is coin big fat lies and charge hefty fees! She went on and on and on! Guess the little demonic lawyer within me was waiting for a chance to rebut her arguments! It was the first litmus test I went through! Remaining unfazed even in the midst of severest criticism and simultaneously thinking through your rebuttals in an objective and detached manner is the most important trait a lawyer has to exhibit! In retrospect, I fail to understand the reason for the disgust and contempt!  This is for the simple reason that I see almost everyone around me exhibiting lawyering skills in various degrees and form.  They don’t need a degree! They do not need to stand in front of the judge! The do not need to understand complex case-laws. The basic traits of a lawyer are just inbuilt in their genetic code! Why demonize the poor lawyers who are already burdened with the task of reading voluminous case laws to no end!  ;-) The most surprising part is that these tendencies are displayed by people at every level! You don’t agree? Okay, allow me to explain!  I will set out 5 typical lawyer’s tendencies and the group of people in whom I witness these traits.

Drink and Binge!: Let me admit the fact! Lawyers love drinking! They have very valid reason to forget most part of their conscious life! Take it from me! Complex document isn’t worth remembering! The community is highly stressed! Stressed because of the clients! Stressed because of fellow lawyers! Stressed because of difficult judges! Stressed because of voluminous reading! What is the solution to this? Vodka, Old Monk and Rum! Is this not a common solution for a lay man as well? Let us face it! I see a lot of my friends in the non-legal field resorting to the same stress bursting mechanism! They are equally stressed! Stressed because of the bosses! Stressed because of the colleagues! Stressed because of the targets! Stressed because of wife/girlfriend or husband/boyfriend! And this is where the path of a lawyer and a layman crosses. It crosses at the bar! It is the place where they attempt to forget whatever inflicts them! Corporate life is indeed blurring the distinction between a lawyer and a layman!

Pessimism:  We lawyers are alleged to be a bunch of pessimistic morons! We always think about what can go wrong. Our starting point in any relationship is the precautions to be taken in the worst case scenario perspective! Before marriage, we will think through the pre-nuptial agreement! Before signing on any dotted line in a commercial contract, we read the finer print million times to ensure that we are not being taken for a ride! Hang on! Is the bug of pessimism only biting lawyers? Certainly not! Look at insurance agents! The premises of selling insurance policy are “fear of death”.  Whenever I talk to my insurance agent, the ominous feeling that death is around the corner grips me and I think of increasing my premium amount in order to further secure my family L Is the corporate world not making us pessimistic? Appraisal will happen in the next two months and I see the wave of pessimism surging! I often hear super pessimistic dialogues from my friends about how they will be left out in the corporate rat race and how the boss is partial towards colleague X or colleague Y and how they have always been treated unfairly! They go on and on and on and there is just no end to it! Students pursuing academics are no strangers to pessimism! I often see students cribbing about the college, the professors, the entrance exams, and the rat race to get a well-paying job and about what not? The examples can be endless! The point is, the sense of pessimism is shared by lawyers and layman alike!

Eye for detail: Lawyers are known to have an eye for detail! Give them a voluminous document of 100 page and they will tell you by the end of the day how you are being fooled on the 75^th page in clause (56) sub-clause (b) on account of the twisted and ambiguous language! They will hear the whole facts out, ask you a million questions until and unless they are not completely satisfied that they have all the details required to make their case out! In the usual course of life, I find this trait being exhibited by a lot of people around me, especially women! When we gossip, we need to know the whole story. J We want complete detail! Nothing should be left out! How dare you not tell me about her 5^th breakup and 3^rd wedding! It was necessary for me to understand her true character! How can you leave out such important fact that was necessary for me to appreciate the truth in its entirety? ;-) How meticulous women are with their house chores! If we have a maid, we are so easily able to spot dirt in the most remote and the obscure corner of our house! How dare we then say that only lawyers have an eye for detail? In the corporate world, we would like to have complete details of our colleague’s personal and professional lives! We would always want to know everything about our bosses! We would always want to have the inside scoop! Let us not therefore not attribute this quality only to the poor lawyers!

 Acrimonious attitude: Lawyers are often alleged to instigate fights! There is an assumption that they are always ready to plunge into verbal duel! They are disputed oriented and just love the words of war! While I might not entirely disagree, I would nevertheless assert that this trait is again not restricted to lawyers! Travel in ladies compartment in any train in Mumbai and you will know what I am talking about!  Participate in any society meetings and you will realize that there is an in-built lawyer in every society member! In the local trains, you will be amused when you see women yelling and fighting with the choicest of the abuses over flimsiest of the reasons! Trust me the reason are more often than not, unreasonable! But they just love arguing and fighting! In the society meetings, people behave as if the spot light is on them! Their inner lawyer suddenly wakes up! They remove their imaginary sword and start slaying the chairman or the secretaries! It is fun to attend society meetings for this very reason! You will see lawyers without degrees arguing the fiercest of the battles afflicting societies.

Alpha A type personality: Lawyers are known to be highly competitive.  They are always out there to beat the opponent! They have to be the best! They have to have the last word! Pardon me but I see these personalities everywhere these days! People who are not A type are taking up self-help courses to become an A type personalities! There is indeed a very high level of competitiveness everywhere at all levels, whether it be at school, office, family, friend circle and what not! So let us not accuse lawyers of possessing this personality trait! We all are equally guilty at some level!

This list can go on and on! There is no end to it! Every individual is a lawyer in his or her own right presenting his or her case at various lawyers and exhibiting those very traits that they otherwise dislike in a lawyer! Are we therefore being fair to the legal community by looking down upon them? J J J

Human Life over God!

Off lately, the still photograph of ISIS militants clad in black, wielding either a Kalashnikov or knife standing behind their victims clad in orange jumpsuit keeling on the barren ground, has become all too frequent. The victims belong to various nationalities, ranging from US to UK to Japan being the latest. The mark of similarity is not only restricted to the same barren background or the carefully coordinated costume colour of the victim and the militant. What is strikingly similar is the expression on the face of all the victims. What really leaves a lasting and painfully disturbing impression is the image of the naked fear in the eye of the victims who are painfully made aware of the fact that death is awaiting just around the corner and that they are hanging on to the few precious living moments at the mercy of the Kalashnikov wielding militants. This powerfully moving imagery relayed all across the globe on account of ISIS’s access to the internet has impact at multiple levels. It once again reiterates the impact of a picture on human psychology. When you read statistics in the newspaper about the loss of human lives caught in cross fire, you are more often than not, not affected by it and often tend to ignore it terming it as “collateral damage” necessary for greater good. However, when you see these gory videos, it pulls the carpet off your feet. Numerically speaking, the number of victims may be few or far off between. But you take the loss at a personal level. You feel the pain of the victim and the family. It unnerves and disturbs you at a level you may have not imagined.


Presuming if there are no third-party string pullers who are using this militant organization for ulterior motives and presuming if there are individuals of twisted mentality who are day dreaming about establishing a medieval era’s power structures consisting of Caliphate based rule; some relevant questions are worth analysing organization. Is the ISIS smart or plainly stupid? While it certainly succeeds in drawing attention to itself by means of circulating these disturbing videos, what does it stand to achieve at any level in the long run? I hope the stalwarts behind the organization are aware of the fact that they are looked down upon as a bunch of blood sucking barbarians who operate on the basis of the most twisted ideology that has no place in the rational world. I hope that they are also aware of the fact that all that they succeed in is bringing bad name to Islam! I hope they have the common sense to understand that a Caliphate style power structure does not fit in the 21st century global geo-political world. 

However, if the above presumptions are incorrect, and there are indeed string pullers behind the scene, it is worth evaluating who is sponsoring ISIS? Who funds them to buy weapons, missiles and warfare machinery that is lethal enough to uproot the incumbent government in Iraq and Syria? Are there bigger players here? What are their ulterior motives? Is it again about controlling the oil economy in the Middle East? What are the string pullers intending to achieve by keeping the Middle-East in the state of constant war? What is the human price of the war? For how long will it continue? Have they evaluated the global consequences of creating one more Frankenstein monster? Have they not learnt anything from the past? These questions merit urgent attention.

Whether it is the power struggle to establish Caliphate or market struggle to control oil economy, the common denominator of sacrifice is human life in either case. This speaks volumes about the value of human race as a whole. I believe the beginning of the end of this senseless violence would commence when we start valuing human life over and above anything else! Human life over money! Human life over power! Human life over superior notions of individual faith! Human life over God! I don’t see any other way!

The Two Warring Neighbours

Are you under an illusion that India and Pakistan are the best examples of neighbours who are sworn enemies right from their inception? Are you naïve enough to believe that Israel and Palestine are the living examples of how effectively neighbours screw up? Does China and Tibet come to you mind in any quiz contest when a question is posed about warring neighbours? If you answer these questions in the affirmative, then, I must admit, with great sympathy, my dear friend that you have indeed missed the golden opportunity of staying in a neighbourhood in which a “Bengali” and a “Jain” live next door to each other ;-) Nothing is more lethal, more gruesome and more entertaining than the verbal duel between a Jain and a Bengali!  The best part about the fight between a Jain and a Bengali is that it will never be violent, in the literal sense for the simple reason that the best weapon for a Bengali would be his eloquent speech intermixed with complicated words, proverbs and one-liners that a Jain would fail to understand to begin with!  On the other hand, non-violence is genetically embedded in a Jain! Ahimsha is the biggest dharma for a Jain! Why will a Jain cross the lakshman rekha of his dharma for a non-veg loving, bone chewing Bengali who cooks smelly fish in mustard oil with the sole intention of offending his saintly Jain neighbour?J So be assured, you can very well sit with popcorn in one hand and coke in another, sit back and enjoy the warring faction without harbouring the fear of getting caught in a cross-fire!

Being a half bong myself, I can go into the innermost recess of a Bengali mind to figure out his strategies and plan of action in this kind of battle! As I have the privilege of having many Jain friends and me being a strict vegetarian, I can very well understand the predicament of a devout Jain! I had the privilege of staying in such neighbourhood wherein a Bong and a Jain family were next door neighbours! I now realize how helpless United Nations might be feeling when it tries to intervene between two warring countries and realizes that it can do nothing about it L

This is how it all begin!  A bong family of 4, the Banerjees were staying on the 3^rd floor of my building for more than a decade!  The Banerjees were a typical middle class, literature and fish loving, highly educated Bengalis.  I always fail to understand that if a Bong is given a choice between a fish and a book, what will he be choosing?  Tough choice indeed! Mrs. Banerjee was proud of her IIM educated son, of her politically conscious husband who bore a serious and grim expression on his face 24X7, of her classic collections, of her daughter’s sonorous voice which woke the neighbours up at 5:00am when she practiced Rabindro sangeet and last but not the least of her culinary skills! Mrs. Banerjee firmly believed that no woman in the building could beat her in preparing macher jhol (fish curry), a Bengali fish preparation cooked in mustard oil! All was well in the Bong household until 5^th March, 2002! It was on this fateful day that the Jains moved into the flat situated adjacent to the Banerjees! Little did Mrs. Banajree know that destiny was going to put her through the toughest test of her life time! The test of defending her Bong pride! The test of justifying her love for fish! It was an emotionally challenging phase for the Banerjees as their in-built belief of Bong superiority in everything was challenged and shaken to the core by the Jains!

Now let me give a brief overview about the Jains!  The Jains were also a family of 4 (numerically equally in strength to the Banerjees).  They were Dingambar Jains who refrained from eating even onion and potato! Mr. Jain was a businessman who exceled in his money making skills whereas Mrs. Jain was a housewife who followed her religious duties fanatically! The two kids, one son and a daughter were still in the schooling phase and were totally into merry making mode to the extent their strict Jain mother permitted! 

The first thing that occurred to Mrs. Banerjee when the Jains moved in was the quick calculation of how the Banerjee’s score brownie points over the Jain’s in every aspect.  Mrs. Banerjee was gloating in self-satisfaction and thought of the Jains as harmless neighbours.  Like any Bengali, Mrs. Banerjee was, as usual, keen to show her literally collection to Mrs. Jain.  Therefore, on the very first day when the Jains moved in, Mrs. Banerjee invited for the evening tea.  Mrs. Banerjee even invited me and my mum. Being a Bong, I love reading and I love checking out what is the latest addition to her collection!  Little was I aware that I was going to witness one of the best arguments that I have ever witnessed until date! It was hilarious and entertaining, to say the least!  Mrs. Jain and Mrs. Banerjee were seated opposite each other whereas me and my mum were seated in between on the sofa.

When Mrs. Banerjee offered Mrs. Jain tea and homemade samosa, Mrs. Jain refused after raising an eyebrow and squeezing her nose. I missed a beat! This was blasphemy! What a wrong start! Refusing food that a Bong offers is the biggest way of insulting a Bong! I knew that the temper in the room would shoot up dramatically.  I instantly took my cup of tea and samosa and begin relishing, both the samosa as well the argument that followed ;-) This is the way it went:

Mrs. Banerjee said, with a stiff small smile, “Ahh Mrs. Jain, I see you have little liking for the samosas, though I fail to understand why! They are homemade very famous in the entire building. You can ask Mrs. Chakravarty. She can vouch for it”.  My food loving mother whose mouth was already stuffed with samosa simple looked at Mrs. Jain and nodded. On seeing my mother nodding in affirmation, Mrs. Banerjee gave the kindest look to my mom and even looked at me affectionately.   Mrs. Banerjee than continued “You could have tried it! It wouldn’t have done you any harm! In any case you look weak and famished! You Jains hardly eat! A Bong neighbourhood is god sent for you! You will relish my delicacies!”  Mrs. Banerjee said this and smiled in self-satisfaction.  Poor Mrs. Banerjee did not know what was coming.  Only I knew that Mrs. Banerjee had fired first round of bullet and the return fire would come anytime! Mrs. Jain immediately blurted, without even thinking the extent of damage her return fire would inflict on the delicate Bong ego!  Mrs. Jain said “God sent? You think Bengalis are God sent?  My daughter fainted today morning! She fainted because she could not tolerate the smell of fish being fried in mustard oil!  I had to burn incense and fragrant candles to reduce the extent of stink. Pardon me but your house reeks of the smell of mustard oil! No offence but I cannot eat anything at your house as you cook non-veg! You indulge in jeev-hatya on a daily basis! It’s a mortal sin for us Jains! We hold very strong values and are very soft hearted!”

I could see Mrs. Banerjee turning red faced! Mrs. Banerjee immediately retorted with her nostrils flaring: “Soft hearted? Strong values? Are you implying that we Bengalis are not soft hearted? Are you indicating that we do not have strong values? Come and see my library and you will see my classic collection and realize the extent of values we uphold!  Have you read Karl Marx? Have you read Oscar Wilde? Do you understand Geetanjali by Rabindra nath Tagore? Do you even read your own name? And you talk about values? You go to temple every day and you think that makes you bhaluable? No ways! Is your mind a cultivated by being subjected to the finer nuances of the literally world? Just because we eat non-veg we become non-human?

I was like…wow! Mrs. Jain just returned fire and Mrs. Banerjee launched a rocket! Eet ka jawab patthar se! But Mrs. Jain was not the one who was going to take things silently. She retorted back saying,

“Look, Mrs. Banerjee…no offense, but we practice what we preach!  We are pure! I did not understand half the things you said. And who was Karl Marx? Was he some Bengali Rishimuni? Who was Oscar Wilde? Did he allow Bengalis to eat non-veg? Who was Goethe? Did he permit Bengalis to use mustard oil? If your Maharajsaheb like Karl Marx and Goethe and Oscar Wilde are allowing you to eat non-veg, then I am sorry but our Maharaj Saheb are now allowing us to eat non-veg! They value life!

I blasted laughing on hearing Karl Marx was a rishi muni!  But it seems Mrs. Banerjee was under some kind of hypnotic Trans! She wanted to get even with Mrs. Jain and continued wither her verbal attack! This is what Mrs. Banjerjee said,

“Goodness Gracious Lord!  This lady does not know Karl Marx!  You say you value life? You do not read anything and you want me to accept that you value life? You do not value intelligence and you say you value life? What is a mark of a cultivated and cultured mind? Knowledge!!! Has any Jain every won noble prize? Did a Jain participate in freedom struggle? What do you know about the current affairs? And you say you value life! Pardon me but you have wasted your life by not reading a single book until date! I think you should eat fish so that your little Jain brain starts functioning!

Mrs. Jain, immediately interrupted and said…”What?? Eat fish? Commit Jeev Hatya? Are you out of your mind Mrs. Banerjee?  I have already lost face by taking a house next to a Bengali! And you want me to lose my dharma by eating fish? Just because it helps me increase my knowledge? Lose dharma and gain knowledge!  You are a sinner Mrs. Banerjee! All your books will not help you save your dharma!

This was the final straw! Mrs. Banerjee lost it! Nothing is more dangerous than a spurned Bengali woman!  How dare Mrs. Jain do this? In any event, in the esteemed opinion of Mrs. Banerjee, Mrs. Jain was a woman of limited intelligence!  In the middle of this verbal duel, I and my mom were busy relishing the samosas! It did not matter to us who won!   Mrs. Banerjee asked Mrs. Jain to leave her house immediately and told her while she was on the door “You lost your face by taking house next to me? You are so dumb…why did you take house next to me in the first place? Didn’t you realize that Banerjees are Bengalis? Why am I wasting my time by arguing with a woman who has got a peanut sized brain and who doesn’t even know who is Karl Marx!!?”

Mrs. Jain got red faced and while leaving the house blurted “I was just trying to show you the right path…the path of ahimsa and respect for life! I don’t know what is written in your fat books! I only know that you are on the wrong track and I will ensure that I teach you dharma as long as I stay here.  Lastly, please close all your windows while you cook your smelly fish”

Before Mrs. Banjeree could say anything further, Mrs. Jain shut the door.  My mother’s mouth was till stuffed with the Samosa and couldn’t say anything to calm Mrs. Banerjee down ;-)

This argument was just the beginning and one of the battles of the two warring neighbours!  There were numerous such battles! Mrs. Jain finally sold off her flat after a decade as she reached the breaking point and Mrs. Banerjee continued reading Karl Marx and entertaining her remaining neighbours with her mustard oil delicacies ;-) I am not sure whether Mrs.  Jain could ever teach Mrs. Banjerjee any of the Dharma, for Mrs. Banjerjee is still equally proud of her Macher Jhol (Fish curry) ;-)

A Sweet Encounter!

It is said that God or nature or destiny communicates with you through sings or symbols.  The sign may be in the form of a completely unplanned encounter. You might be in the middle of a seemingly stressful situation not knowing what to do or say next. You might be in the middle of mayhem and confusion. You might almost feel like a rudderless ship not knowing which direction to take in the unending expanse of life.  Just when you are about to start feeling hopeless, you might come across a person or witness an event or find yourself in a circumstances that might add an altogether fresh perspective to your life. These people or event or circumstances might be unusually ordinary in nature.  However, if you have a keen sense of awareness, you might just realise that the people or circumstances or event were not as ordinary as they appeared to be. On the contrary, you encounter them precisely at the right moment when you are supposed to take the right lead and learn the right lesson!

This realization dawned on me when while I was travelling from London to Manchester to catch a flight for India.  It was my first trip to UK.  This trip to UK was disillusioning at many levels.  While I must admit that I do have many wonderful memories of this short visit, yet, at a certain level I realized that a lot of my assumptions about life in a western country were unfounded. I was fundamentally disillusioned by the people in the sense that I found them highly individualistic.  I found that the elders were often left to fend for themselves, that there was a very strong sense of disconnect between people of different generations.  The younger generation often ignored their elderly counterparts as soon as they entered into their teens. A lot of new parents often looked at their young kids as liabilities!  On the surface, everything was very beautiful with material comforts at its glorious best! However, scratch the surface and the ugly face of self-centeredness projected itself in its full glory! On the last day of my trip, while I was returning, I was almost feeling suffocated with the self-centeredness.  I once harboured a dream of settling down in abroad. Before boarding the train for Manchester, I almost concluded that my dream was formed on unfounded presumptions about life being a replica of heaven being a combination of material comforts and emotional security. I almost thanked providence for allowing my life to run an alternate course. While these thoughts were running at the back of my mind, I was simultaneously trying to locate my seat. I was kind of disappointed that I did not get the window seat as I was really keen not to miss the beautiful London country sight. 

Just when I was about to settle down on my seat, I heard a woman who boarded the train after me, calling me randomly and informing that I could take any seat I liked as the train was half empty.  I turned around to check out who this stranger was who was forthcoming with this good piece of information and who was sounding so cheerful and lively early in the morning when the rest of the passengers were in a typical UK “live me alone” mode.  One look at her and I figured out she was an Asian, though I was not sure of her origin, UK, in any event, being a collage of different races of the world.  This lady once again flashed a broad smile at me and not only asked me to take a window seat, but also a seat that had a sliding table and charging facility.  She appeared to be in a fully enthusiastic and chirpy mode and seated herself bang opposite myself! Frankly, to start with, as I wasn’t expecting anybody to talk to me, I was kind of confused when she started conversing with me! This is something that very rarely happens in a country like UK! She had a very sweet and disarming smile! She had a lot to talk about! She had a lot to teach me! May be she was god sent for the simple reason that she was one of the most selfless person that I encountered in my trip and I must admit that she actually added a lot of fresh perspective to my views about life in a western country. 

To give you a brief snap short of this lady, she was a Filipino who was settled in UK for more than a decade.  Her name was Teresa Fernandes and she worked as a chef in one of the restaurants in London.

Before starting the conversation, she offered me her breakfast. This was even before knowing who I was or where I was heading to! When I politely refused, she insisted once again! When I refused again she frankly asked me whether I was scared of eating anything offered by a stranger ;-).  I had to convince her that was not the case.  One thing that really impressed me about Teresa was the fact that she considered herself as a very lucky and a blessed woman! Now, on the surface of it, one would consider that she had all the reasons in the world to think that way! But scratch the surface and you might find a different realty all together! The reason why Teresa considered herself blessed was because she believed on counting on her blessings rather than cribbing about the many ugly faces that life showed her at various stages of her life!

When Teresa was 7 year old, back in Philippines her father left her mother to marry another woman.  Teresa’s mother had a very big family to support as they were more than 7 to 8 siblings! Teresa’s mother did not have the time and energy to sit back and cry as she had the responsibility to raise her family single-handedly! She worked hard! Very hard indeed! She worked on the family farm and little Teresa helped her mother in the farms. Teresa informed me that life in the farm was very difficult and laborious, to say the least! However, she enjoyed farming and helping her mother! In order to improve her family’s lot, Teresa decided to emigrate at the young of 14! She emigrated thousands of miles away from her family and worked in an embassy in Greece! Post working in Greece, she moved to France for a while and then finally to UK.  Life certainly was not a bed of roses for her as she not only had to establish herself in UK but also had the responsibility to take care of her entire family in Philippines as she was the sole bread winner now. She had an ailing mother to take care off; she was responsible for ensuring that her young siblings get quality education. She had to get her brothers married and settled off financially, get her house in Philippines repaired and restored, buy new farms for her brothers and what not! 

She did all this single handily! And yet here she was, sitting opposite me, smiling and cheerful, without any complain! She could have complained about a lot of things! She could have had grudges against her father who left her in a lurch and never loved her! She could have complained about not having been given the chance to complete her education! She could have complained about all those men in her love life who failed her and broke her heart and left her to fend for herself! She could have complained about having to single handily bear the financial responsibilities of such a large family! She could have complained about not having the chance to get married and settled down! Yet here she was! A strong and cheerful woman! Who was constantly considering herself as blessed for having a wonderful mother who loved her unconditionally! For having given the chance to improve her lot and the lot of her family by getting a stable job in London! For having given the chance to help her siblings and see them progress in life! For have given the strength to bear the loss of her two siblings! For having two nephews, who treated her like their mothers, and called her “mummy”.    

I asked her if she had any regrets in life! She paused for a moment and said “Nopes”.  She then said that the only regret that she had was that she couldn’t become a mother. But her two nephews certainly were like her very own children and she turned to them whenever she missed having a child of her own!

Now this, in my view, is truly beautiful woman! She is beautiful from within! This blog is a tribute to you Terri! I just want you to know how wonderful you are as a person! Frankly, you are a blessing to your family and everyone you meet for you teach us the virtue of selflessness!

This sweet encounter was one of the best things that happened to me in my trip to UK. It taught me that it is not the country that makes you individualistic and self-centred! You can be thousands of miles away from your family, in the middle of highly individualistic crowd, and yet you may retain your selflessness! It is up to you! You have the choice to make!  The choice to consider yourself as blessed by counting on the blessings of your life or the choice to think of yourself as cursed by providence by always focusing on what is wrong with your life!

Hope you make the choice that Terri made!  J

THE TOUGH CHOICE

I more often than not presumed that the different phases of my life would evolve and flow peacefully like a silent river, the one without any whirlpool, the one without any strong currents.  At sub-conscious level, I failed to understand the reason for this presumption.  At the conscious level though, the reasons were quiet obvious. Being born in a typical middle class Indian family in Mumbai, where parental support forms the bedrock of one’s very existence, I never made a conscious effort to analyze the nature of my relationship with my parents, especially my mother.  As any other kid born with my background, my life was scripted and I played the part.  I never imagined that the script would have twists and turns; that the script would have drama, the script would force me to make choices, the script would have moments entwined with a deep sense of joy and sorrow at the same time, a deep sense of gratitude and loss in the same breath. I never imagined that my mother would end up being the protagonist of the script of my life.  This story is only a weak attempt at verbalizing the deep sense of gratitude that I have for my mother. For I know that I cannot avoid the twists and turns and the highs and lows of the script, but I can, without doubt, avoid the doubts of the script going awry, thanks to the very presence of my mother.

It was the time of my wedding.  The time which was supposed to be joyous, time of merrymaking, of fun, of laughter, of getting exhausted in making preparations and at the same time relishing the very fact of getting exhausted. Knowing my temperament, when I did decide to get married, my mother was more relieved rather than being happy. The sense of relief was short lived, in a good sense as every waking moment of her life for a year preceding my marriage was spent in thinking, planning and preparing for my wedding. Every morning the breakfast time was spent in discussing the guest list, of who all will be invited, who all will not be invited and the reason why she/he will not have the honour of being invited in the wedding of the year J  As the D day was nearing, every free day was spent inundating every square inch of free space of my house with shopping bags! In the midst of the preparation, little did I anticipate that we as a family in general and my mother in particular were going to face the biggest test of our life. The clothes were stitched, the hall was booked, the cards were sent out and we were about to start practicing for the pre-wedding songs and dances.  The countdown had begun. All that we were anticipating for the next twenty days was fun, music, food, dance, laughter, tears of joy and celebration.

However, this was not meant to be! Life and relationship is what happens to you when you are busy planning for something else! Just twenty days before my wedding, my maternal uncle, being the eldest brother of my mother and whom she was very close to fell sick.  With the initial diagnosis we all thought that it was jaundice and that my uncle would quickly recover. However, when the condition of my uncle did not improve, it sort of ringed an alarm bell. My uncle was subjected to a number of tests.  None of us in general and my mother in particular had the strength of knowing the outcome of these tests.  He was diagnosed with gastro intestinal cancer of stage 4D; a stage from which there is no reversal, no return. It was hard, for the lack of a better word, for us to digest that something of this nature was happening. It couldn’t have happened! How could the script take such a tragic twist? In the middle of the wedding drums, we were not prepared to listen to the death knell! I was broken and shattered from within. As per Hindu customs, as the cards were sent out, it was not feasible to postpone the wedding.  I was worried about my mother.  To give you a sense of the depth of her sentiments, she cries when she sees an emotional movie, she cries on hearing anybody’s pains.  My mother had to pray.  But she was clueless about what she was praying for.  My uncle’s death was inevitable. It was a foregone conclusion.  The only thing that was not foregone was the timing of his last moments.  When would it happen? Will it happen a week before my wedding? Will it happen on the wedding day? Will he die immediately after my wedding? Can we do anything to change our immediate destiny? Can we do anything to control it? If not, what should we do? In light of this, my mother was faced with a tough choice? Should she be praying for her brother’s peaceful and pain free death so as to reduce his pain? Alternately, should she be praying for the longevity of his life by a couple of days just to ensure that her daughter’s wedding passes off without any event? If she prays for the latter, will she not be a cause of her brother’s unbearable pain? If she prays for the former, will she not be a cause for the most important event of her daughter’s life going down the drain? In the midst of all this, she was just progressing mechanically.  Little did she know that she did not even have the choice to pray either ways!  The only choice that she had and which she did exercise was the choice to be happy, the choice to pretend that everything was normal, the choice to indicate that she was in control of her own self and consequently the situation.  Just one day before my wedding, we had an engagement ceremony.  

I was getting ready in the parlor when I received call from my cousin.  I missed my beat.  The only sentence that my cousin told me was that I will have to be strong. There was no need for him to say anything else for I knew what happened. Silent tears started trickling down my face.  I did not have the guts to face my mother! I felt selfish! I felt guilty of the fact that I was celebrating. I felt guilty of my very existence for my mother could not mourn because of me.  When I met my mother after getting ready, to my very surprise, she was smiling.  I assumed that she might not be aware of my uncle’s death.  I assumed that knowing her, my family members might have refrained from telling her. I therefore did not tell my mother that I am aware of everything for I wanted her to enjoy my engagement ceremony.  My mother was in complete control of the situation.  She was taking stock of everything! She was welcoming the guests with a smile on her face, she was supervising the ceremonies, and she was dancing with us at regular intervals.  In the midst of all this, I did notice that she use to disappear at regular intervals. However, being the bride, I failed to realize the reason for her disappearance. Almost at the end when the function was about to get over, I overheard my mother telling she would leave for the funeral.  I was shocked about the fact that she was aware about the tragedy.  If she was aware about it, why did she not tell me? Why did she choose to remain silent? On the contrary, why did she proactively participate in the engagement function? The biggest question that started haunting my mind was that how did she has the strength to face this?

I was taken back home by my father.  I couldn’t sleep as I was waiting for my mother to return.  The only questioned that I asked her was that “You were aware about it?”  She did not say anything and simply hugged me.  Thereafter, she only replied, “I cannot reverse what happened; it was not in my control. It was not the choice that I was given.  The only choice that I gave myself was the choice to ensure that the biggest day in your life is not overshadowed by my sense of loss and pain. For the only balm for me which lessened my pain and gave me the strength to face the situation was your smile” I was at a loss of words on hearing this. Once again I was assured of the fact that that I cannot avoid the twists and turns and the highs and lows of the script of my life, but I can, without doubt, avoid the doubts of the script going awry, thanks to the very presence of my mother. 

I LOVE YOU MOM!

Do you Know Rubin?

I cannot really figure out the reason why, but I am having a strong urge to share this funny (well….not so funny at the time when it occurred….in fact, it positively got the wind out of my lungs ;-)) story which occurred long time ago.  The characters of this story are very much real, the incident is not fictional, and it is completely true ;-)  However, out of the fear of being taken to task by the friends who are involved, I have used fictitious names while narrating this incident J

Almost a decade back, I was studying in Law College and simultaneously interning at a boutique corporate law firm, which was boutique in every sense.  Like all the interns, who ventures with high hopes in the law firm domain and then quickly does a crash landing, my life was as interesting as a life of intern could be; for crash landing was an everyday affair! I started off this particular day completely anticipating that this was going to be just another day in which I will be spending time reading and taking photo copies of voluminous documents.  Little did I know that by the time it would be evening, my life would become an interesting chapter straight out of Sherlock Holmes stories! At around 4:00 p.m. on that day, I was in the middle of reading a boring case law.  While I was desultorily turning the pages of the never ending case law, I got a call from an unknown person from unknown number.  I answered the call half expecting that this call from a mysterious lady will take me on a roller coaster ride for the next ten days.  This is the way the conversation went:

Myself:  “Hello, whose this?”

Mysterious Lady:  Ahh…is this the right time to speak? I want to ask you some very important questions and would like to know something very private and confidential.

Myself:  What? Important questions? What sort of important questions would you like to ask me? Hang on! Who are you? Why are you sounding so scared?

Mysterious Lady:  I am sorry I cannot reveal my name. But I will be immensely grateful if you could just give me information about this one particular person.

The statement from the mysterious lady jolted me back to reality.  Millions of thoughts started running in my mind simultaneously.  The first thought was about what kind of information on earth I possessed at this early stage in my law firm career that this lady was so desperate to seek. What the hell is happening? I must admit that a ting of fear was running down my spine but at the same time the womanly curiosity was pushing me to prod further.  So this is the way the conversation went further.

Myself: Ahh…this is strange….i do not know how safe it is for me to speak to you. But I would still like to know what exactly you would like to know that I still do not know that I know about!

Mysterious Lady:  Don’t worry.  I am the one at the receiving end right now! I am in big trouble.  I just want to know what you think about Rubin! What kind of person is Rubin?

Rubin!  Millions of thoughts were playing football in my mind! What the hell! Rubin! So this is what it is all about.  Hang on….jus to give you guys a brief background, Rubin was a very good friend of mine.  We were in the same class and use to often hang around together.  He was a typical happy go lucky guy who ate a lot and swore a lot! What harm could he possibly do to any one? I never imagine myself getting a mysterious call from a mysterious lady because of the happy go lucky hyper active Rubin. However, at the same time, I started thinking whether there was something about Rubin that I did not know about? Did he have a darker side? Was he into drugs? Did he fool around with a junior chick? My mind was racing widely in all possible directions. I decided to prod further.

Myself:  Well….ah…yeah…I do know Rubin….but I am confused…why are you asking me about him? And what do you want to know? Firstly, please tell me who you are!

Mysterious Lady:  Please….please…please….tell me everything that you know about him.  Believe me, this is important.  Please tell me what kind of person is he.

Myself:  Well….he is a friend…and he is a nice person…if this helps or makes you feel better!  I cannot tell you more until and unless you tell me who you are!

Mysterious Lady: Nice person? Is he a nice person?

 Myself:  So you would like to hear from me that he is not a nice person? 

Mysterious Lady:  Are you sure he is a nice person?

Myself:  Are you sure you want to know things about RUBIN?

Mysterious Lady: Yes! Yes! But how can he be a nice person….you are being biased…or partial….may be because he is your friend…you have no idea what I am going through.

Myself: Why don’t you tell me what are you going through?  Hang on…why don’t you tell me who you are? May be I might be able to help you with this!  Did Rubin hurt you? Did Rubin hurt your daughter?  Are you somebody’s mother from my college? Please al least tell me something.

Mysterious Lady:  Well…..i am sorry…it is not safe for me to talk too much of phone…..ahhh…can you meet me? Please can you meet me…I will tell you everything once I meet you.

SHIT!  Now a strong chill ran down my spine! How could I meet her? She was  an absolute stranger! What on earth had Rubin done to this lady or to her daughter or to god knows whom!  At the same time, curiosity was getting the better of me! I just wanted to get to the bottom of the matter!  Weighing all the risk, I decided to meet her. This is the way the conversation went further.

Myself:  Okay.  Fine! But atleast tell me your name! How will I recognize you? 

Mysterious Lady:  Do not worry.  I will wear a BLUE SAREE AND CARRY A PINK WATER BOTTLE!

Myself: BLUE SAREE! PINK WATER BOTTLE!  FINE!  But I would like to meet you at a public place.

 Myself: How does Café Cola on linking road at Bandra West suit you?

Mysterious Lady: See you tomorrow at 5:00 p.m.

She said that and off went the line.  My heart starting thudding violently! For some time I just couldn’t think clearly! I immediately called up Rubin and started talking to him in all seriousness.

I asked him, “Rubin…..please be honest with me….are you sure you are not on drugs?

Rubin: Drugs? What is wrong with you? Hell no!

Myself: Are you sure you are not fooling around with some new hot underaged chick?

Rubin:  Why are you asking me these questions?  What is wrong with you?

Myself:  I should be asking you this? What is wrong with you! I get call from mysterious people who are trying to extract information about you because you have got your hands full in some god forsaken stuff which you aren’t telling me.

Rubin was taken aback.  I narrated the entire conversation.  He sounded like a deflated balloon at the end of the conversation when he was repeatedly swearing that he has done nothing wrong!  I told him that in any event I would go and meet this lady as I wanted to know the truth.  Rubin, being the good friend that he was, tried convincing me out of it  by citing various scenarios of how it could turn ugly and unsafe. Realizing that I would not relent, he finally conceded on the condition that I would be accompanied by another friend PARIMAL.  The game plan that we made was that Parimal would accompany me in the café.  However, he would sit a couple of seats away from me on the next table.  I was happy and satisfied with this plan.  Believe me, the enthusiasm of Sherlock Holmes was running in my vein. 

I had to share my excitement with someone.  God gifted me the opportunity to play Sherlock homes.  However, I have not been gifted with the virtue of discretion! Out of the blue, I called up my college Principle and narrated the whole incident to him.  My college principle took it on a different tangent all together!  He got all excited and took the focus off from RUBIN and bought it on himself!  He said….”Esha, I think this is a work of some investigative journalist!  They actually want information about me! Not RUBIN!” He further said…people are jealous of me and want to ruin my name in the press” I was flabbergasted.  How on earth could he draw this link? They mysterious lady was repeatedly asked me about Rubin! Not even once did she mention my principle!   I completely forgot the fact that my principle was gifted with the divine quality of linking any and all event of this world to him.  I realized that calling the college principle was a big mistake and that my principle would ruin this big adventure.  I cut the conversation short and hung up.

As per Rubin’s plan, I called up Parimal, the guy who would provide me with cover fire in case things would go out of hand!  To give you a background, Parimal was a loud mouthed junior who participated in every national and international completion without reading a single judgment.  He was an overconfident, careless, carefree young chap….to say the least! I failed to understand why Rubin selected him off all the people.  I called up Parimal and planned out the finer details of my meeting tomorrow. 

I couldn’t sleep that night as I just couldn’t wait the morning to happen.  Little did I know that my role as Sherlock Holmes ended the moment I called Parimal! Next day, I called that lady during lunch just to confirm the schedule of our meeting.  The lady refused to answer my calls! I was taken aback! Positively disappointed! What the hell! Why is she ruining it?  As I called repeatedly, the mysterious lady answered the call and simply said…”I am sorry I cannot meet you” and then off went the line!   I immediately called up Rubin and gave him the bad news!  To my surprise, Rubin was relieved.  I called Parimal and told him that the plan was off!!  Parimal sounded disappointed!  He told me that he was very excited and that he told his mother about this meeting! I hung up after chatting with Parimal for a while and went on with my routine work in the boutique law firm.

After a week days, I called up Parimal at his residential number as I wanted him to return the books that he had borrowed from me.  Parimal’s grandma answered the call.  She was a sweet old lady who started off with a typical grandmotherly conversation.  She repeatedly insisted that I should come home and meet her.  I said I will certainly do that!  At the end of the conversation, she asked me “ACCHA BETA….DO YOU KNOW RUBIN?’ WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT HIM? HOW DO YOU FIND HIM”.

These questions immediately ringed the bell! The same questions which the mysterious lady asked!  I could kind of connect the dots.  I hurriedly answered her questions and hung up! I immediately called up Rubin and informed him that the “MYSTERIOUS LADY” AND “PARIMAL’S GRANDMOTHER” are asking the same set of questions.  There certainly was a connection between the “MYSTERIOUS LADY” and “PARIMAL’s GRANDMOTHER”

Rubin processed the information and hung up!  He then called me after two days to sort the mystery about the Mysterious Women! This MYSTERIOUS WOMEN was no one else but PARIMAL’S MOTHER.  Rubin told me that he went to Parimal’s house after having a conversation with me.  He said that he went with some friends to get this straight.  He introduced himself to Parimal’s mother and grandmother and asked them if they had any problem!  Parimal’s mother finally blurted out the truth that she was the Mysterious Women! She wanted to have information about Rubin as Parimal asked her to sponsor and finance various college events under the pretext that Rubin had asked for it.  She further blurted out that she had given 50,000 rupees to Parimal until date as Parimal said that it was necessary as per Rubin (who happened) to be a college committee secretary!  She further said that she had a strong suspicion that Rubin was defrauding her innocent little son by repeatedly demanding money! Rubin cleared all her doubts by asking other friends to vouch for him!  He further told her that instead of creating this mystery, she could have asked him directly in the first place!

WELL….RUBIN WAS RIGHT…BUT WHAT ABOUT MY DISAPPOINTMENT? MY ONLY CHANCE OF PLAYING DECTITIVE IN MY ENTIRE LIFE WENT OUT OF THE WINDOW! In the hindsight…it was indeed comical…Parimal was going to accompany me to meet his “Mysterious Mother”  No wonder his mother refused to meet me when I called her the next day.  The fool Parimal is also not gifted with the art of discretion.  He had proudly told his mother that he would be accompanying me to meet a “MYSTERIOUS LADY IN BLUE SAREE WITH PINK BOTTLE” No wonder his mother backed out!  She would have cursed me for revealing this to her son J

In the hindsight we laugh about this incident, nevertheless with regret that I could never get the chance to play Sherlock Holmes.  J