बातें बस इतनी सी ही होती हैं अक्सर ..

SCHOOL REUNION 2010

It was a life away from life. We giggled, we laughed ,we enjoyed each others’ company and talked and talked. It was soon time to go back to our homes but none wanted to. Such was the magical aura of our reunion. We were 14 families in which 14 of us relived the golden years of schooling done in Guru Nanak Public School after almost 23 years.

The innocence of yesteryears rushed back and we all were young children again. Such was the happiness of revisiting childhood that we managed to steal almost 4 hours from the monotonous routine.

Was it really so long ago that we were so absurdly happy on such absurd things ? And yes, it is indeed absurd that we can no longer be so absurd!!!

The one thing which we couldn’t get over was that how did we all grow so much in girths and sizes? NAW!! We want those times back. Please God?

I DON'T CARE

I recently went through a magazine’s editorial on how we should not care about trivia. So I have started practising it for my well being.

I too don’t care.

But can I not care even if I hail from Ludhiana, the Manchester of Punjab, an amazingly rich city but very poor in civil attitudes. The ladies proudly flaunt their riches, celebrate all sorts of festivals with lots of extravaganza but conveniently forget to light the homes of even their servants (they actually encourage child labour by specifically demanding for ‘mundus’ as one of my colleagues recently did).But why should I care?

Picking up my daughter from one of the most prestigious schools here is a pain because besides the D.C’s, all the top brass’s children study here. The Govt. vehicles are parked haphazardly blocking all the traffic but the proud drivers stand oh-so proudly, flaunting not only their paunches but their status also. But should I care?

Almost all the main roads have been dug up on some excuse and road accidents keep on piling up. Only yesterday, a X class student banged his car into the road divider and bled profusely. But his ultra rich father should care, not me.

Yesterday, a family was having dinner in a 4 star hotel, basking in the happy laughter of their kids who were all warmly bundled up in the finest of wool. At the corner of their sofa sat their ‘mundu’ barely in his teens, wearing ill fitted clothes, open chappals and waiting hungrily to be fed on the leftovers. It hurt to see him like that, made me angry too but maybe, I shouldn’t care.

This Diwali

On Diwali we are supposed to fill ourselves with a new zest for life, sweep away the cobwebs of all the ills which are making us ill. Mostly, anger.

The cosmic powers have already decided what the best is for us; what is left in our hands is to either make the best of it or the worst of it. It should be a constant journey, a constant endeavour to better ourselves. We are indeed surrounded by many auras which determine our way of life and thinking but what we forget is that nobody can permeate our cocoon. It is up to us how we shape our life. So maybe this Diwali, we should light up a diya inside our cocoon to take a stock of all what we have got , all what is only our own and stop worrying about what the person whom we think is the closest to us would think. Light a diya to light up your life. I have lighted up one for me.

The bazaars were totally decked up like a Punjabi princess who is intent on spicing up her attire with more flavours of India. There was a mad rush everywhere to get the best gifts for loved ones but then, people are always rushing about madly everyday. There is this urge to get the things get done hurriedly even if there is no hurry. The small courtesies have long been disposed off (how can they be written off when the new gen doesn’t have the time or inclination to write). If there is any wonder left, it is in the eyes of very young children whose minds have not yet been introduced to the Internet.

So, Diwali was a very routine affair, ending with everybody dutifully lighting up the crackers, making sure that whatever breathable space is left in this cemented town also goes up in smoke.

Here's a Ludhiana girl wishing a happy Diwali to everybody.

Are we thankful ?

The other day I had gone to buy milk when I noticed that my scooter had a flat tyre. I really didn’t want to go to the repair shop but common sense prevailed and I found myself at a shop not very far away , sweating profusely not only due to the humid heat but also because I had to literally drag my scooter for those long 50 metres ! You see, I am one of those persons who definitely believe in having all the luxuries that life can offer but who don’t care at all for the maintenance of the same.

Luckily , there was no other customer around and I was attended to immediately. And I waited and I sulked due to the wait. It was then that I noticed him. There was something about his manner that did not let me take my eyes away.

Very carefully, he took out a five rupee coin from his pocket , looked at it again to double check and gave it to the shopkeeper to check the air in his cycle. The latter gave him back three rupees and told him to do the chore himself. After again counting the money carefully, the migrant told the repair-person very politely that he doesn’t know how to do the job. He waited for a couple of minutes, gave me a searching look, maybe to ascertain that I wasn’t making fun of him, and very softly requested the shopkeeper again , only to be rebuked loudly. He was handed back his money and was shooed away. When I looked at him riding away, dressed in tattered clothes and broken chappals, I felt almost ashamed of my scooter and air conditioned house. He must have been almost atleast 15 years younger to me , trying to make a living while being labelled as a migrant labourer. Inspite of not getting respect , he carried himself very well .He had a clean and a fresh aura around him.

It is indeed very sad that all are not equal .

SUMMER HOLIDAYS

SUMMER HOLIDAY TIME IN INDIA !!
Long summer spells with the shining Sun scorching our skin mercilessly. Parched skins and throats bothering our not so cool minds and those irritating , creepy lizards crawing everywhere...I don't like summers.
Schools have thankfully declared holidays but not before giving a full load of holiday homework. Honestly, can you really expect a child of 9 or 10 years to make a weighing scale when he doesn't even know how to convert kgs. to gms. But that is exactly what is happening. Well, it's minting time for the stationery shops , I guess who are only too happy to oblige such students and parents. I don't think making suggestions about letting the child just enjoy his childhood would be of any use here.
It is very hard to channelise the raw energy of young children in the holidays especially when the days are so long , made even longer by the famous power cuts of Punjab. The summer camps are very expensive , some times it is better to steer clear of them. And then you have to be so creative in the kitchen also, how can you always make rainbow coloured dishes which are healthy as well as delicious?

Well, I have started inviting my children's friends to my home and personally cater to their art and craft queries. As for food, well , mummy always has the last word!

NEW JOB CONTINUED

There is a stark difference between a regular teacher and a substitute teacher. You can tell by their attitudes.

The first big blow to your esteem is the low salary (4500 per month) which is simply unbelievable. You are expected to be at par as per your qualification , work equally hard and paint an equally bright smile when paid half of the regular salary !! Which is quite silly.

And yes, irrespective of the good performance of your class , which is quite comparable to the 'regular teacher - taught' classes, if you are called back to the school, you are expected to give yet another demonstration of your teaching skills. Which is quite insulting.

Are the teachers being exploited because of the sheer strength of their number ? There are so many who are good and overqualified but are still dreaming of getting the VI pay commission implemented. The heads make it seem as if their own personal purses are being pinched. Whereas all the while it is the parent's purse which is getting the pinches.