The onion story…Feb 2010

I just lay huddled with my mum who tried to keep me closer to her..we were all tossed up and down.. side ways.. and believe me I did not want be separated from my dear mum.My mum had told me stories of what would happen to us sooner or later and I kept praying that shall not happen to me. But lo…I was darwn into a big pan.. but mum was still next to me… that was only for a few seconds.. then a big shovel like thing with five prongs picked my mother and threw her out…and I along with my other brethren were heaped into a dark place.. nothing was seen… I felt as if we were kept inside a big chamber . Some more things were put on us and we jolted as we were lifted and soon we pushed and nudged each other as we were being taken away. I do not clearly remember how long we were carried . We were dropped ‘thud’ on a hard surface. My body was badly bruised!Sooner the heavy thing above was removed and we were able to breathe freely….then again the 5 pronged shovel picked my brethren …I pushed myself into a corner not wanting to be picked…oh…I won… the shovel did not touch the corners and there I lay still and breathless. I cried my heart out missing my mum and all my friends. I lay there for nearly two light and 2 dark times. On the third light I felt as being carried . Again few things fell on me and this time there was nice fragrance…I recognised them as my apple bhaiyas…they wondered as to what I was doing there all alone. We had fun telling each other our stories. Suddenly we felt pushed against each other when we were made to squeeze in a small place.. the hard iron bar pressed my body. But it was fun being carried in a fast move to the tinkling sound of a bell…we sang to the rhythm of the move and the bell…but it ended all soon. But this time we were placed so gently on a surface as if we were flowers. Again the big shovel picked my apple bhayias and the next moment I was out into bright light. The gentle shovel turned me around and looked at me with a big smile on the face…what would happen to me now!!”I wouldn’t be hurt by this gentle face. Would I be?”I was placed gently in a cold metal surface and soon I was alone in it with a white cover above me. Why was I here? Why was I not used when I was seen? The stories that my mother told me all looked like bunch of lies. I was neither peeled and cut, nor thrown into hot fire….I lay still waiting what would happen next…soon I was lost in my own thoughts….

Baba with a bhang! Chia, chillum and chappati! Jan 2010

MY fellow partner Rikie fixed an appointment one day to meet one Mr. Baba who had an English wife. I was curious about who and what that man was doing for a living and how his wife was coping in a small and dusty place like jeetpur!
I was least prepared to see the unexpected. The place they lived was a temple complex. With a high wall adjoining the busy road on one side and a narrow ditch( an apology for a river)on the other .The temple looked very ordinary in my terms .the man himself was a baba .. a spiritual practioner (??)with long locked hair…I had to suppress my surprise and may be I was disappointed too…the baba sat on a mat and welcomed us with a big laugh .. his face showed easiness of life and his eyes were full of joy!I being an Indian I have seen hundreds of such babas'.. on my journeys all over . but had never got to see and talk to one …I knew that these babas' practiced Hinduism in a way that was totally different to what I am used to…I told myself that I would just be quiet and watch and keep all my curiosity to myself.I just put up a pose as being an accompanying partner with my friend …
The baba did some loud thinking about what he was up to and it set me thinking…”All over the world.. Hinduism is dying.. Muslims are becoming large in number… people are forgetting Sanatana Dharma.. I must do some thing to revive it all!!England is a dangerous place.. here there is peace…I want to give shelter to people who visit Pashupathinath…and keep the tradition of my Guru going…Maybe I shall start a charity fund back in England…make this place nicer and famous.I can offer chia, chillum and chappati to people… ganja is the way to happiness….next only to god!!”
It is interesting to see people who call themselves Hindus practice rituals that could be poles apart. The people who were a part of the huge sacrifice (I would call it mass slaughter)of animals at Gadimayi also called themselves Hindus. And I who don’t smoke ganja and have not sacrificed an animal is also been conditioned to be a Hindu. Some of these practices could result in a conflict .But I understand the problem lies not in the practice s but in bringing all these religious practices under one big fold called hinduism. I think a distinction has to be made about the vedic religion and the other religious practices out side this fold . In the recent past the dominant Vedic tradition has been singled out as the form of hinduism . But vedic practice itself has undergone many changes and it is difficult o see a single version of it. Right along the length and breadth of the country it is practiced in ways very different though the verses sung may be the same. Ie., it hasled to many interpretations of the text itself. It would have been more appropriate for recognition of the various forms as there are many branches in Christianity for eg.,.

while some where in Jomsom....

“scene 1
a meeting where people seated in a star room smelling of the latest room freshner, with mineral water bottles, food of their choice in best of cutlery and all dressed in their finery and matching accessories from various parts of the world…deliberating on sustainability …and whose and what sustainability are they talking about…each one talks his own.. the linguist their words and pronunciation, the economist their wealth, the spiritualists their thoughts and mantras,the physicians their medicines, the educationists their pedagogy, the politician his power, the capitalists their market etc etc…..

a deep reflection could perhaps reveal the dichotomy between the chosen theme and the setting
scene 2
i see change every second.. the clouds appear in the ever blue sky and even before I notice they disappear…i am seated on earth some where in the Himalayas . Far down I see the man and the beast working in the field as the latter sings to keep his spirits alive.I also see finely etched footpaths made from down hill …or is it uphill ? the water channels simple but effective since many decades?
I walk down to see things much closer .. all is so uncluttered..just in place and in matching hues..the stone clad houses , and stone covered drains, with smell that is more earthly and nothing to be ashamed of, its people in attires of style as if in a party , but no, it is their everyday dress that blends with the surroundings.
what catches me is the silence…the silence not heard before .. not that their is no noise .. but even that has merged with the surroundings that you have to be quiet and pay attention to listen !!It is as though they do not want to disturb the sleeping giants , the mountains , it is sacrilege to be in off beat / tune/or pitch!!

i feel that these are the real heroes who have mastered the art of living in conditions that city dwellers like me can hardly ever imagine!!the children of this place learn to live naturally …

people from all over come to see what? the mountains .. do they see the humble humans amidst those giants ? or it is too scary for them as it makes them feel too burdened with the shocking thought that all their creativity has led them to a life style so shame fully unsustainable!!”

Colours!!

Colours.. since when was it that teaching colours to children became a practice.. well, in a normal conversation with a child first its name is asked and then what colour is its frock or shirt.. and if the child dosen't answer.. then .. lo! it is a shame for the kid and more so to its parent.. and if it says it in its mother tongue immediately any adult around will supply the name in english...( and in many cases learning of English stops at that !
.
and have we wondered why we ask the children which is its favourite colour? when i was asked this question.. much when i was an adult,i was perplexed.... can I have my favorite colour? but why/ because.. i was never consulted when my parents brought me dress , or a tooth brush.. colour was to me very natural.. the color of rice, the color of the chappati, the colour of the coffee powder... the colour of the butterflies in my garden... and there were so many greens that i even to day do not know to name them... i never felt the necessity even today to learn them...but i knew when it was time enough to pick some thing looking at the colour.. what if i did not know to name it!colour in that sense was very functional... so was smell... and texture...

now let me come to the schools i go to... the children are amidst nature... green of different kinds around them flowers of various kinds.... and how important is it to fill their class with colours? do they have any value?( there are no traffic lights here, yet!) did not these colours remove the children from the environment and draw them to shops where everything is colourfully displayed....( and because it is in the science book ..we give environmental lessons to kids to see colours in nature....) but which colour is valued more? sorry not the blue in the sky.. the wonderful colour of the sunrise and sunset.... the blue of the toffee, the orange of the fanta.. pink of the barbie doll....but the kids here learn to look everything wholistically....they know the plant s around them, they know to reap, by looking at the colour...they not only know an orange but also how to grow one!!(does any city bred child know about oranges other than its colour??)i am sorry if these kids are educated they will stop growing oranges and buy colourfully packed orange tang!!

now come to this question"which is your favourite"( i think this was created to create a consumer who could demand his choice and get it too)!! this is a question which has huge cultural implications.... the child exposed to this questoning learns that it can have a choice all the time... no, we were never asked this .. why am i not comfortable? because I belong to a society where everybody ate and drank what was made in the kitchen and we wore the dress that parents bought us..what happens if such questions are asked to children who come from families where they cannot afford to give choice?? won't the child think low of its family, grow up with inferiority complex? it was so painful to me to listen that children ( in the schools i work)do not go to school because they have no kaaja to take and even if taken it is very inferior... because some one brings a packet of biscuits( mind u it is the colour of the wrapper that makes it so wanted!) while he has only batmas( a local protein rich dal) to take!
so the capitalist has made a child as small as 5-6 years old disrespect the food the parents can afford !!
is any body listening??
Is asking such questions child centered clearning??