Bee,
I had posted a story earlier ' A hole in the Psyche '- it was based on a story I watched on Kairali TV done it Delhi Correspondent Sunil.
Finally the Delhi court has acted on it. Many congrats to Sunil's efforts! He was happy to share this with me.
"The Delhi High Court today* suggested the city government set up five shelter homes for destitute women to take care of their medical and other requirements.Suggesting a slew of measures for the government to consider, a bench headed by the Chief Justice Dipak Misra said the government should provide mobile medical unit so that people living in slums can be taken to shelter homes."Government of NCT to demarcate five secured shelter homes exclusively meant for destitute women, pregnant and lactating women so that apposite care can be taken and no destitute woman would be compelled to give birth on the footpath," the court said."In the aforesaid shelter homes, food and medical facility shall be available for 24 hours," the court said.The court passed the order in a case which it took up on its own on the basis of media report that a destitute woman died while giving birth to a baby on a footpath at Shankar Market near Connaught Place. The woman was lying in a pool of dirty rainwater on the footpath and she died four days later. The court had on September 1 said hospitals cannot deny treatment to any pregnant woman. "It is the sacrosanct duty of the government to see that children are looked after properly in the hospitals within the guidelines. The hospitals cannot deny any pregnant woman for treatment," the court had said."
*The case was heard on 20th October.
Three cheers to responsible media reporting ! Hurraahhhh!
October 28, 2010
DoNothing
Do nothing had been the mantra I had been nestling in my mind and trying to emulate for the past ‘n’ number of months. Have had several reasons to support the claim – ‘had been pushing myself for the past couple of years, had too much on my plate, the spinal cord had been playing up, irregular eating habits’ etcetera.
So I decided to Do Nothing.
The first realization dawned on me. Man ! What a lot of oversized baggage I had in my ‘hard drive’ to delete! Unattended, un resolved, unaddressed oversized baggage. Emotional. Financial. Physical. You name it, the baggage was staring at me gleefully. Nodding at me. Requesting me for an early clearance and System Update.
Thus the Do-Nothing-stage became a sole dedication to System and Baggage Clearance. When I flew over the Indian ocean, from the Emarald Island to God’s own country (more God disowned sometimes), I attempted throwing a few baggage, literally, in mind. The ocean that contained so much of every animate and inanimate form of creation could absorb a single, 53 kg weighing, not- so- petite Indo-Sri Lankan’s woes. As much as a 50-minute flight could afford, I hurriedly tossed the priority baggage. Beep. Beep. The system was getting cleared…
God’s own country’s capital city airport treats one with abrupt movements of the vocal cord, of several people at the same time – one trying to ‘out-sound’ the other. To manage the onslaught of passengers rushing into the immigration counter, these acoustics and the resultant alveolars, retroflexes and palatal sounds help, we are told.
Most of the uniform in white I saw there had undergone a minimum three dips of ‘super white’ ( an Indian liquid concoction to make things ‘whiter’ when all you get is a shade of light purple!). After being subjected to the mercy of the immigration officer(s), who would scan you, and is/are generally not so impolite, could question you more, especially if you are in the category of a Non Residing Indian (NRI), Overseas Citizen of India (OCI) or People of Indian Origin (PIO). The expression on their faces could mean anything from sedition to bigotry. You have to read these messages meant for you. And I was thinking – ‘hell to pay – all these too-tired-to-argue-about-anything faces who have queued up with kids and family, mostly from the Arab part of the world, are only bringing in money to the country that was supposed to be God’s favorite. And the treatment? And are OCIs traitors?” I was trying to debate while made to stand at the counter for apparently not having filled the immigration form ‘correctly’ and was on and off asked whether I could read and understand English properly. While I patiently waited and studied people’s faces, I realized the apparent displeasure of the immigration officer may have been towards my Sri Lankan passport! An Indian giving up the citizenship to become a Sri Lankan must be out of her mind- he may have thought – I don’t know. But if only had he communicated that to me, I would express my sentiments towards the Emarald Island and my steady and consistent love, respect and faith towards its earth.
While clearing the checked-in baggage ( I mean on-board and not on mind!), one is constantly followed by ‘helpers’ who volunteer their services of lugging the luggage with a smile that stretches from one ear to the other. I was also greeted by one. Our conversation is given below unedited:
He: “ Madam you are working ‘there’?
Me: Yes
He: So give me about 50 dollars
Me: 50 DOLLARS??? For what?
He: You all get paid well, no?
Me: Aiyo, I am from Sri Lanka; poor
He: Madam, the thing is we were not getting paid last two months. Very difficult!
Me: I see! ( I open my purse; with my father standing next to me just outside the airport)
He: Then give that five hundred rupees. I can see you have a five hundred!
Me: (almost losing it by then) : No, that is for my taxi !!!
I ended up paying 400 rupees and vanished, wondering which Tourism Department under which Ministry came up with the tagline “ Kerala – God’s Own Country,” where fleecing the common man at all levels happen in such a manner, wanton and crude. But our Human Development Index beats any other State. My mind was beginning to take off to a rebel-without-any reason-mode, and I chanted the “Do nothing’ Mantra and started a conversation with my father about the weather in Trivandrum and the humidity (one can talk about this any time while in Kerala. We love the topic).
The Do-Nothing mantra, alternately served with take-a –break slogan was put to test. But the monkey mind would not hear or listen! The system overhaul needed an immediate attention to the failing disc – so off I went to an ayurvedic hospital and put myself through the most rewarding treatment – oil baths, hot packs and 24 hour TV which you can only watch while in bed, also fixed at the ceiling height so that you have to stretch your neck like the giraffe (all part of the treatment, by the way). But phew! I loved it. But God forbid! Those concoctions – man ! why should ayurveda be so bitter !! But like Bran’s essence of Chicken which I used to have and love while still a non-vegetarian, I gulped the ayurvedic concoctions religiously, three times a day, or more, when it was expected! A new lease of life. My doctor said, I can go play the rugger now.
The Do-Nothing mantra flipped with the ayurveda treatment as I was doing ‘something.’ The period of recuperation was supported by The Black Book by Pamuk, whose world of word architecture, I was instantly falling in love with…
But I was not doing Nothing. There was Something. Always. To do. Mind can never rest. In the nights I tried Vipassana. But that was also Something.
All of a sudden, lots of cobwebs were found on the un-plastered walls of my home. My father had made an indigenous, state-of-the –art cobweb breaker, with the longest dry coconut leaf that he could find. There I was, mouth and nose tied with the desi white towel, breaking the cob web and throwing away things (for example, tons of plastic bags, paint brushes that were used five years ago and are still kept in earnest anticipation of 'coming in handy' three years later!) with a vengeance. My mother gets increased palpitations while I am around; and here I was trying to ‘get rooted’ in ‘own home’ after a lapse of 14 years, by kick-starting the rooting process with a broom and a cob web breaker. 'Well, in my absence, this had been some one else’s space. Need to respect this fact, Anila. Well, I am respecting that. But some things can be cleaned up for a greater common good, you see, so that we all live in a neater place.' Two sides of my mind, which can hardly agree on anything was again on a debate, of to be or not to be. (Hamlet was better off in his confusion as Shakespeare never mentioned a cob web).
Wait a minute. Do-Nothing. Take A Break.
Phew! The rainy season was awful,although it is very romantic to sip green tea,seated in the easy-chair in the balcony. But you pay for it from 5-6 pm when you have to chase the exodus of charging mosquitoes like the marching soldiers in the Illiad. Around this time, every day, there were gun-shots from the neighbourhood. And I freaked out (when you live in a country with a terrorist problem, the first sound you hear, by default, you plan an exit strategy!) Amma assured me not to worry; it was the neighbour’s new daughter- in- law on the killing spree, using the ‘mosquito gun’ Man! Gun, it was! A long flat ladle-like thing, when swirled around, attracts the mosquitoes and kills them patash patash like light crackers! I watched her daily operation of Mosquito Kill, unnoticed (reminded of the Panchasheela that Vipassana meditation preaches and the veneration I have for the principles, and how hard I try to adhere by not killing a mosquito even if it is a dengue kind - you see, mosquitoes come with different names these days). But in Kerala, you Kill Mosquitoes. Vipassana is for other States.
I digressed. The rainy season was awful as we had a water logging problem. Here I was trying to get rooted and Do-Nothing at the same time. How to get rooted while having the water logging issue and it seemed as if the rains were to stay the eternity? The absconding contractor was summoned; and he went absconding again and then called again… The rooting process in Kerala was so easy, you see… Those were the weeks of sand, cement, filling tiles. With the newly gained vigour after the ayurveda treatment, I put my heart and soul into the cement. Get this done fast before Onam. Hurrah. I was chasing a deadline. Grrrr. Onam came and went; lots of food; deep fried ‘murukkus’ and very sweet ‘payasam.’
Do-Nothing was put to sleep.
Kerala’s sky spiraling cost of living is everybody’s nightmare. And if you are undertaking maintenance you had it. I was expending energies and monies more than I was mustering for the next onslaught of WhatEver. Tedious job. Done in a circuitous manner. You know what? I wanted a Break. Oops. This was a Break in the Break. Come on Woman , you cannot take a break.
But I did. Am back in the Emerald Island. Staying with a friend who is like Family or more than family. Sharing experiences and having extended discussions on Dr. Brian Weiss and his regression therapy with her. Learning new software programs from my tec-savvy youngest friend – 7-year-and-one-month old Ishan(whose slogan is 'school is where you catch up on sleep!' Man! don't kids have a lesson to teach you every day?) Doing Nothing. Taking a Break. So I thought. And most days I am doing Something. Meeting friends. Discussing projects. Eating sinful food (I love it). The chocolate mousse, the carrot cake, the banana bread, waffles with golden syrup, raspberry syrup (yummmmy), varieties of dry fish, tons, no, grams of watalapan ( a sri lankan sweet dish), gallons of cappuccino, (not to mention the occasional Chilian and Californian Wine sessions) and gorgeously increasing my girth. But, I am loving it.
The Do-Nothing phase, filled with Something or the Other, had one big reward. Of Happiness. Truly. Happiness can dawn on you for no apparent reason. I was quizzed / interviewed for the reasons of my apparent happiness. All the interviewers’ reasons failed. Their rational mind refused my reasons for finding happiness. Well, the answer is, I have no reason. I am on a journey. Of (re) discovery. Enjoying the moments. The fullness and dullness of life. And living it in my marrow. Should there be a better reason to be happy?
Now my next target is to be happier. There I go… The Do-Nothing phase is yet to be…
So I decided to Do Nothing.
The first realization dawned on me. Man ! What a lot of oversized baggage I had in my ‘hard drive’ to delete! Unattended, un resolved, unaddressed oversized baggage. Emotional. Financial. Physical. You name it, the baggage was staring at me gleefully. Nodding at me. Requesting me for an early clearance and System Update.
Thus the Do-Nothing-stage became a sole dedication to System and Baggage Clearance. When I flew over the Indian ocean, from the Emarald Island to God’s own country (more God disowned sometimes), I attempted throwing a few baggage, literally, in mind. The ocean that contained so much of every animate and inanimate form of creation could absorb a single, 53 kg weighing, not- so- petite Indo-Sri Lankan’s woes. As much as a 50-minute flight could afford, I hurriedly tossed the priority baggage. Beep. Beep. The system was getting cleared…
God’s own country’s capital city airport treats one with abrupt movements of the vocal cord, of several people at the same time – one trying to ‘out-sound’ the other. To manage the onslaught of passengers rushing into the immigration counter, these acoustics and the resultant alveolars, retroflexes and palatal sounds help, we are told.
Most of the uniform in white I saw there had undergone a minimum three dips of ‘super white’ ( an Indian liquid concoction to make things ‘whiter’ when all you get is a shade of light purple!). After being subjected to the mercy of the immigration officer(s), who would scan you, and is/are generally not so impolite, could question you more, especially if you are in the category of a Non Residing Indian (NRI), Overseas Citizen of India (OCI) or People of Indian Origin (PIO). The expression on their faces could mean anything from sedition to bigotry. You have to read these messages meant for you. And I was thinking – ‘hell to pay – all these too-tired-to-argue-about-anything faces who have queued up with kids and family, mostly from the Arab part of the world, are only bringing in money to the country that was supposed to be God’s favorite. And the treatment? And are OCIs traitors?” I was trying to debate while made to stand at the counter for apparently not having filled the immigration form ‘correctly’ and was on and off asked whether I could read and understand English properly. While I patiently waited and studied people’s faces, I realized the apparent displeasure of the immigration officer may have been towards my Sri Lankan passport! An Indian giving up the citizenship to become a Sri Lankan must be out of her mind- he may have thought – I don’t know. But if only had he communicated that to me, I would express my sentiments towards the Emarald Island and my steady and consistent love, respect and faith towards its earth.
While clearing the checked-in baggage ( I mean on-board and not on mind!), one is constantly followed by ‘helpers’ who volunteer their services of lugging the luggage with a smile that stretches from one ear to the other. I was also greeted by one. Our conversation is given below unedited:
He: “ Madam you are working ‘there’?
Me: Yes
He: So give me about 50 dollars
Me: 50 DOLLARS??? For what?
He: You all get paid well, no?
Me: Aiyo, I am from Sri Lanka; poor
He: Madam, the thing is we were not getting paid last two months. Very difficult!
Me: I see! ( I open my purse; with my father standing next to me just outside the airport)
He: Then give that five hundred rupees. I can see you have a five hundred!
Me: (almost losing it by then) : No, that is for my taxi !!!
I ended up paying 400 rupees and vanished, wondering which Tourism Department under which Ministry came up with the tagline “ Kerala – God’s Own Country,” where fleecing the common man at all levels happen in such a manner, wanton and crude. But our Human Development Index beats any other State. My mind was beginning to take off to a rebel-without-any reason-mode, and I chanted the “Do nothing’ Mantra and started a conversation with my father about the weather in Trivandrum and the humidity (one can talk about this any time while in Kerala. We love the topic).
The Do-Nothing mantra, alternately served with take-a –break slogan was put to test. But the monkey mind would not hear or listen! The system overhaul needed an immediate attention to the failing disc – so off I went to an ayurvedic hospital and put myself through the most rewarding treatment – oil baths, hot packs and 24 hour TV which you can only watch while in bed, also fixed at the ceiling height so that you have to stretch your neck like the giraffe (all part of the treatment, by the way). But phew! I loved it. But God forbid! Those concoctions – man ! why should ayurveda be so bitter !! But like Bran’s essence of Chicken which I used to have and love while still a non-vegetarian, I gulped the ayurvedic concoctions religiously, three times a day, or more, when it was expected! A new lease of life. My doctor said, I can go play the rugger now.
The Do-Nothing mantra flipped with the ayurveda treatment as I was doing ‘something.’ The period of recuperation was supported by The Black Book by Pamuk, whose world of word architecture, I was instantly falling in love with…
But I was not doing Nothing. There was Something. Always. To do. Mind can never rest. In the nights I tried Vipassana. But that was also Something.
All of a sudden, lots of cobwebs were found on the un-plastered walls of my home. My father had made an indigenous, state-of-the –art cobweb breaker, with the longest dry coconut leaf that he could find. There I was, mouth and nose tied with the desi white towel, breaking the cob web and throwing away things (for example, tons of plastic bags, paint brushes that were used five years ago and are still kept in earnest anticipation of 'coming in handy' three years later!) with a vengeance. My mother gets increased palpitations while I am around; and here I was trying to ‘get rooted’ in ‘own home’ after a lapse of 14 years, by kick-starting the rooting process with a broom and a cob web breaker. 'Well, in my absence, this had been some one else’s space. Need to respect this fact, Anila. Well, I am respecting that. But some things can be cleaned up for a greater common good, you see, so that we all live in a neater place.' Two sides of my mind, which can hardly agree on anything was again on a debate, of to be or not to be. (Hamlet was better off in his confusion as Shakespeare never mentioned a cob web).
Wait a minute. Do-Nothing. Take A Break.
Phew! The rainy season was awful,although it is very romantic to sip green tea,seated in the easy-chair in the balcony. But you pay for it from 5-6 pm when you have to chase the exodus of charging mosquitoes like the marching soldiers in the Illiad. Around this time, every day, there were gun-shots from the neighbourhood. And I freaked out (when you live in a country with a terrorist problem, the first sound you hear, by default, you plan an exit strategy!) Amma assured me not to worry; it was the neighbour’s new daughter- in- law on the killing spree, using the ‘mosquito gun’ Man! Gun, it was! A long flat ladle-like thing, when swirled around, attracts the mosquitoes and kills them patash patash like light crackers! I watched her daily operation of Mosquito Kill, unnoticed (reminded of the Panchasheela that Vipassana meditation preaches and the veneration I have for the principles, and how hard I try to adhere by not killing a mosquito even if it is a dengue kind - you see, mosquitoes come with different names these days). But in Kerala, you Kill Mosquitoes. Vipassana is for other States.
I digressed. The rainy season was awful as we had a water logging problem. Here I was trying to get rooted and Do-Nothing at the same time. How to get rooted while having the water logging issue and it seemed as if the rains were to stay the eternity? The absconding contractor was summoned; and he went absconding again and then called again… The rooting process in Kerala was so easy, you see… Those were the weeks of sand, cement, filling tiles. With the newly gained vigour after the ayurveda treatment, I put my heart and soul into the cement. Get this done fast before Onam. Hurrah. I was chasing a deadline. Grrrr. Onam came and went; lots of food; deep fried ‘murukkus’ and very sweet ‘payasam.’
Do-Nothing was put to sleep.
Kerala’s sky spiraling cost of living is everybody’s nightmare. And if you are undertaking maintenance you had it. I was expending energies and monies more than I was mustering for the next onslaught of WhatEver. Tedious job. Done in a circuitous manner. You know what? I wanted a Break. Oops. This was a Break in the Break. Come on Woman , you cannot take a break.
But I did. Am back in the Emerald Island. Staying with a friend who is like Family or more than family. Sharing experiences and having extended discussions on Dr. Brian Weiss and his regression therapy with her. Learning new software programs from my tec-savvy youngest friend – 7-year-and-one-month old Ishan(whose slogan is 'school is where you catch up on sleep!' Man! don't kids have a lesson to teach you every day?) Doing Nothing. Taking a Break. So I thought. And most days I am doing Something. Meeting friends. Discussing projects. Eating sinful food (I love it). The chocolate mousse, the carrot cake, the banana bread, waffles with golden syrup, raspberry syrup (yummmmy), varieties of dry fish, tons, no, grams of watalapan ( a sri lankan sweet dish), gallons of cappuccino, (not to mention the occasional Chilian and Californian Wine sessions) and gorgeously increasing my girth. But, I am loving it.
The Do-Nothing phase, filled with Something or the Other, had one big reward. Of Happiness. Truly. Happiness can dawn on you for no apparent reason. I was quizzed / interviewed for the reasons of my apparent happiness. All the interviewers’ reasons failed. Their rational mind refused my reasons for finding happiness. Well, the answer is, I have no reason. I am on a journey. Of (re) discovery. Enjoying the moments. The fullness and dullness of life. And living it in my marrow. Should there be a better reason to be happy?
Now my next target is to be happier. There I go… The Do-Nothing phase is yet to be…
October 20, 2010
Retrospection
A month in Sri Lanka now - my adopted home- where I am served a large bowl of mixed, feelings, emotions, thoughts, closeness and distance...Sometimes wonder whether it is a glass menagerie or a kaleidoscope. May be a mix. Or may be neither.
It had just been a break of seven months away from the island, but it seems longer! Catching up with friends, window shopping and just hanging loose. Time off from planning. Time off from contemplation.
Could not ask for more than an extended dinner on the beach, where a calypso band that plays old Hindi and Sinhalese numbers and the roar of the sea combine to give an ambience worth living all night – in the company of friends. Early mornings are when the quiet and the sublime combine, especially if you are on a drive up the hill country… Phew! This island is more than a tear drop – it indeed is a pearl in the ocean!
Very rewarding to feel the absence of old check points in the heart of Colombo… lesser presence of the camouflage. Free movement. Less or no fear. More than a ray of hope among the common people. The real peace dividend of a common man? And for me, more than a reason to hope and continue my faith in this emerald island, which taught me to hope when everything failed; to rise up and smile and face the world when I had hardly anything to hold on to; to find a reason to wake up each morning when the purpose for which I came crumbled like a sand dune washed by the tycoon waves; this island guided me to discover the woman that was half asleep in me…
Nothing more is befitting than these lines by Alfred Lord Tennyson in his Ulysses to express the way I feel at this moment...
“Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will. To strive to seek, to find, and not to yield…”
And as he says…
“ I cannot rest from travel: I will drink
Life to the lees: all times I have enjoyed
Greatly, have suffered greatly, both with those
That loved me, and alone...”
My Odyssey in the island began 14 years ago… and it is still unfolding itself...
It had just been a break of seven months away from the island, but it seems longer! Catching up with friends, window shopping and just hanging loose. Time off from planning. Time off from contemplation.
Could not ask for more than an extended dinner on the beach, where a calypso band that plays old Hindi and Sinhalese numbers and the roar of the sea combine to give an ambience worth living all night – in the company of friends. Early mornings are when the quiet and the sublime combine, especially if you are on a drive up the hill country… Phew! This island is more than a tear drop – it indeed is a pearl in the ocean!
Very rewarding to feel the absence of old check points in the heart of Colombo… lesser presence of the camouflage. Free movement. Less or no fear. More than a ray of hope among the common people. The real peace dividend of a common man? And for me, more than a reason to hope and continue my faith in this emerald island, which taught me to hope when everything failed; to rise up and smile and face the world when I had hardly anything to hold on to; to find a reason to wake up each morning when the purpose for which I came crumbled like a sand dune washed by the tycoon waves; this island guided me to discover the woman that was half asleep in me…
Nothing more is befitting than these lines by Alfred Lord Tennyson in his Ulysses to express the way I feel at this moment...
“Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will. To strive to seek, to find, and not to yield…”
And as he says…
“ I cannot rest from travel: I will drink
Life to the lees: all times I have enjoyed
Greatly, have suffered greatly, both with those
That loved me, and alone...”
My Odyssey in the island began 14 years ago… and it is still unfolding itself...
October 16, 2010
Shapeless... formless...yet...
As it moved, fluttered
I was trying to fathom
What it was...
A figure-less body?
Fleeting thoughts?
Phantom memories?
It moved towards me...
I watched it closely
I heard it so near
An apparition.
A melody
A hope. A voice.
Shapeless and formless
But a hum. From far.
I was trying to fathom
What it was...
A figure-less body?
Fleeting thoughts?
Phantom memories?
It moved towards me...
I watched it closely
I heard it so near
An apparition.
A melody
A hope. A voice.
Shapeless and formless
But a hum. From far.
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