Indian Culture and Foreign influences

Of late the political parties and religious bodies in India have been raising a hue and cry about the increase in the influence of the 'western' culture on our present generations. The points that need to be pondered are: a) Are these influences of a recent nature? b) How beneficial these influences have been for our country?

On turning the pages of history it becomes evident that the outside influences have played a major role in shaping up the culture of present day India. Prior to Alexander's invasion attempt, India had sporadic contact with the west and the influence was also limited. With the entry of Alexander, western influence became more pronounced. In the centuries that followed, many more invaders lay siege to the country but soon surrendered to the beauty and charm of the land. Many a tradition got amalgamated in the thread of daily life of the people ranging from some evils as Sati, Purdah to the good ones included better educational reach for all strata, attempt at removal of caste system.

Coming back to the original line of thought... it s not only West that has influenced the Indian culture, there are many an influence which has affected the nations worldwide ranging from our food (which is quite akin to Mexican food!!), our dresses & accessories (Sari, bindis and many more are now a part of red carpet attire) are just a few.

Our most important influencing factor has been in the form of the migrating populace which has led to our ideas and ways of living being more acceptable now as compared to few decades back. NRIs have played and can play an important role in making our culture more accessible for the lands where they have settled.

To sum up, negating the western influences with the sweep of a hand is not advised but a more judicious choice of positive western influences needs to be made by the masses. What is more important is that we as a nation stop giving in to bullying by religious or political bodies who do so to promote their own personal agendas.

Lost

When was the last time you took a break and looked at the stars?

I recall as a child sleeping outside under the open skies. Often spent many a night watching the twinkling stars way way past the sleeping time. Way past everyone had slept, trying to count all the stars not just in my view but an ambition of counting in the whole sky!

My logic was earth rotates and so I could count all of them, just had to make sure I stayed up that long for the whole sky to pass my view. Every night I tried to keep my eyes open long enough, rarely ever crossed 500 before stars lulled me into sleep. But did I give up. No. I tried and succeeded at making my elder sibling to join me in the noble cause of solving the question of how many stars in sky. Alas! He was never as motivated as me and often slept leaving me counting all by myself.

With age the ambition of counting the stars was left behind. More important matters such as classes, heartaches and heartbreaks took over but whenever I could not sleep I often would spend the night gazing at the twinkling stars till the time stars gave up their fight to light up the skies and submitted to the warm embrace of the rising sun.

Sorely miss the days of star gazing coz now when I look up at the skies for the reassuring twinkling all I see is the lonely moon trying to dispel all the darkness, but fails since it shines with borrowed life.

I wish I could give my son the joy of gazing at the night sky with all the stars twinkling as if only for you. The urban lights have engulfed the night sky and the only time we get to see the stars is when we visit a planetarium. Hope that in the madness of growing our cities and fulfilling our dreams we don't loose out on the small joys forever.

You learn something every day if you pay attention.

The statement set the wheels in my mind churning. Till I had ‘read’ it, it was just another statement out of the many I had read throughout the day. It made me sit up and think what I had learnt from all the things I had done the whole day.

In today’s age of short attention spans, becoming shorter everyday with the new gadgets and new methodologies of media to grab attention, it becomes important for me as a teacher to ensure that students remain interested in the content being taught.

The thirty-five minutes of the class sometimes become so difficult since the children these days ask questions ranging from ‘Why the sky is blue’ to ‘why the trees do not fall in hill stations?’ I know you must be wondering what is wrong with the question, perfectly legit question.

Wait! I still have to give you the back-ground to the questions. The topic being done in the class Plant Adaptations in Desert plants....

The statement/question being told/asked by the cutest/brilliant student is

‘Teacher, teacher... (Infinity times)...

(When the instructions are to raise your hand, wait for being asked to speak, but no Teacher... he has to ask, so he has to ask. I relent and tell him to speak & believe me he does speak...)

The plants growing in water do not have stomata at the underside.”

Controlling that crick in my neck... I very politely ask him...

Is that a query or are you telling me.

The head bobs up and down, up and down, ‘Teacher I knew this.’

I re-confirm ‘So, you are telling me about it.’

‘Yes Teacher’

But, we are doing desert plants.

Yes Teacher

So how is it related (trying in vain to make him realise that he should have waited for the topic to be discussed...)

The head bobs up & down more furiously.... ‘But, then you would have told....’

I patiently ask him, ‘Any more things you want to ask.’ I re-direct the question to include the rest of the class. No hands go up.

I continue (try & continue is more like it) with describing plants in deserts. The hand shoots up again...

‘Teacher, teacher... teacher, teacher... teacher, teacher...’ giving up on attempts to ignore him, I ask, ‘Yes’.

Teacher, you had told Mesophytes are plants that can survive in plains.

I wait, nodding my head in acknowledgment, for the question to come... finally, I ask him, ‘and... .’

Teacher I just wanted to tell you.

I could go on with the recount of the whole class, but I would prefer to give only a snippet.

But, how is this related to the quote in the beginning of the blog. The relation lies in the fact, that today I learnt that there are always going to be eager beavers in the class who want to be the first to answer and also the first to ‘inform’ and also be the most naughtiest of the lot.

Teaching has been made a fun and a challenge because of the ‘eager beavers’ in the class, who not only keep me on my toes but also keep the class lively with their lovely antics.

Perfection…. Problem?

Earlier in the day I read an article which discussed the problems of seeking perfection. I had never thought of being a perfectionist as a problem. Many a times I had been told that the work being done has to be perfect. Do not want to admit it, but I do have an OCD streak wherein I need to clean a small spot of dirt, wash my hands after every work I do and then apply a moisturizer. I had never realized that I had an issue till it was pointed out by a close family member. I was informed that in the last ten minutes I had washed my hands five times and had moisturized the same number of times; until that time I had been totally unaware of the same.

In all the growing years, I’d always sought for perfection in my own skewed view. In my obsession for perfection I preferred to be alone in its pursuit rather than share it with anyone else. I wanted to be perfect in the knowledge of anything before I shared/discussed with the others. It made sense, ‘perfect’ sense… why share something and let the other person know that I am lacking in something; rather keep quiet, learn everything to learn and surprise the friends and family.

Quoting from the article, “perfection suggests a state of flawlessness, without any defects. To be perfect implies a condition whereby your action or performance attains a level of excellence that cannot be exceeded.”

The expression ‘To err is human’ started making sense to me after many a torturous nights!!

The desire to be perfect or was it to be praised….was so strong that it over-shadowed everything else. It overtook every other desire, goal and goaded me on. Everyone around was being measured against each other for the success. It was not sufficient to be good at one thing; we had to be good at everything we did. It was like we were supposed to touch was to turn to gold, like the Midas’ touch; unfortunately Midas too had to suffer.

The viewpoint on what it meant to live well did not mean anything. It was and still at times is about being the best, being the perfectionist.

There is no other justification to explain that I would rather sit up and redo the whole thing instead of tendering in an unfinished project. There are many a times I have erased the lines of a drawing or have torn up the pages in sheer frustration because the lines or the words did not live up to what I wanted them to convey.

After reading the article I have been thinking, according to what or for whom am I not perfect or am perfect… The answer is a sad one... it is only me who has set a benchmark for myself.  Often I have not been able to meet the standards and have either given up on the project or have shelved it till I could get a better way to tackle it.

In truth, this has led me to be a procrastinator. Rather than to accept defeat and try to finish the project, I would make an excuse of not doing it at the required time.

The article mentioned that the desire to be a perfectionist was more due to an underlying insecurity. Reflecting on the words, I am getting a sense of déjà vu… yes it is right… I do have this feeling that whatever I am doing I could do better.  The question is better than what? Better than what I had done in the past, but the past is gone and I could always accept that and move on.

I had always a dialogue going on in my mind, counseling me, telling me of better options, I think it is time to stop listening to the ‘voices in my head’ (sshhh…. Do not tell!!), and also to stop measuring myself against others and what I was and am all the time.

Rangoli for Diwali

I made two rangoli designs today for welcoming the Goddess Laxmi, the Goddess of Prosperity who is worshipped on the Diwali Eve along with her son, Lord Ganesha, the God of Wisdom.

Diwali is celebrated to mark the return of Lord Rama along with his wife Ma Sita and his brother Lord Laxman after a fourteen year exile. In these fourteen years, Lord Rama underwent many a hardships but faced all of these along with his wife and brother, who never faltered a step in the journey.

I would be making a rangoli of Lord Ganesha later in the day. Keeping fingers crossed for it to come out right.

Death. It has such a heaviness to it. It tends to bring people together. People are subdued near death...hushed tones...eyes averting contact.. staring at walls.. silent observations. The old have a look which says, 'waiting.. but living'.

People like me who are uneasy with PDE or public display of emotions (endangered species in India) try and get away with folding of hands but somehow that is not enough for old ladies. The all encompassing, all surrounding embrace seems to engulf you, accompanied with a wail and tears (?).
The immediate family moves closer looking for solace in each-other.

The wait lengthens, people get restless,  shift to more comfortable seating... move to places with 'friends'.. all looking for more private spaces. The voices get bolder.. topics shift from how and what happened to how are the children doing, any medical impending emergencies... with the person who has gone becoming an almost distant thought.

The wait takes longer. The talk shifts to more mundane things, 'kaamwali bai' nahi aayi.. suddenly a cellphone rings in someones pocket.. causing a shrillness which is jarring to the very core... hushed voice on the cell.. instructions about a child to be picked, a deal to be signed soon, a problem in the office.. bringing the living world back to the living.

The deceased body is readied; many a ritual are carried out.. the family moves with heavy hearts. Not a single eye is without tears.. women move near the body (may be because they are the nurturers)... men stand on the fringes.. letting the women carry out the rituals. May be women need a finality of things...

The grieving family endures few more rituals at the crematorium.. the wait is longer.. the people are suddenly quieter.. may be because the end is near.. there is an animated restlessness..

The final journey sees a role reversal.. women leave their positions as the sentries.. men carry the responsibility with a solemnity leaving the women on the fringes..

Any loudness.. sound or actions stands out.. irritating to watch.. somehow disturbing the solemness of the occasion. Sad.. tearful eyes.. hands folded... waiting.

More rituals.. more wait.. everyone seeks out shaded places.

The pyre is lit.. men move away.. a random thought.. a little heat disturbs us.. a small burn causes a reflex action..how about the person who is being burnt.. oh yes.. no feelings.. no sensations any more.. a promise of a better place..

The end is almost there.. phones suddenly remember their masters.. a ring here and there..Wait..

Family moves teary-eyed.. supported by friends.. hoping to learn to live with the loss.

Hoping.. Waiting..

Is Media Biased?

I have often pondered upon this whilst listening to the news. So, is it?

Most of us would not respond to this question with a yes since many of us find it easier to switch the channel, than to think about the rationale behind it all.

The news media had to give up being idealistic when it was demanded of them to be big ‘money-churners’. Let’s face it. There is no money in news. All that most of us want is to tune in, get a few specifics for the day, any major story on telly, and check out all in a short span of 10 minutes.

As a news channel, higher the rating, higher the revenue generated for their advertising space from the various companies. This is possible only when the news sells. This is not new news for any of us. We all have noticed that out of the many shows on air, the ones that remain have a few similarities and generalities. The situation is such that if you do not look at the channel’s logo you might not be able to differentiate between one channel and the other.

With the race to be the best in News, the reporter integrity, importance of the story and its relevance have all taken a back stage. In their thirst to be paramount, the truth is often twisted to such an extent just so as to capture audiences’ interest. To make the audience tune in and keep them glued to their program, the use of such words as ‘crime’, ‘racist’, terrorist, ‘sex’ is made. Whether the same are relevant to the news, it really does not seem to make any difference.

It is human nature, to stay a moment longer to learn what happens next, and that is what has been exploited by the media. However trivial may be the ‘news’, a ‘panel of experts’ on the subject having an opinion which needs to be aired on National Channels mysteriously appears. Are these panels on a standby for the News Channel? Given the traffic and other demands of daily life, it would take a normal human being some time to reach the Studios. The ‘Experts Panel’ has no such issues!! The sparring of these experts makes for very entertaining watch.

Media plays to a selected audience, depending upon the news for the day. An example from yesterday, Osama’s death has caused the media to go into an overdrive trying to get sound bites from families who lost their loved ones in 9/11. I am sure the families are still revering from the loss they had suffered. All they want to do is pick up the pieces and try to re-build a life without their loved ones.

The question worth debating now should be, after such a public death of an ideological leader for the fanatics, what do you think would happen in terms of repercussions, if any. The question would not be addressed because it is easier to over-look it. It is easier to brush it aside and indulge in some chest-thumping. It would help in keeping the public from not thinking of the real issues that may surface.

The truth is in this age of reality T.V., public does not wish to be a mile away from the action; it wants to be in the midst of it, to get a thrill that the public is a part of the whole situation.

Media wants that the spectators are emotionally involved in the whole situation and the outcome. An emotionally invested viewer will watch the show till the end, in turn guaranteeing a higher revenue generation.

So in the end, my question again, “Is the media unbiased?”

Ma

Hello Mom

It has been very long since I last talked with you, extremely long. Well, life has a way of catching you in its throes and then you never do find time for the actual important things. But in the recent past I have often thought of penning down my thought for you to read, things that I could never speak to you, could never share with you, that I so badly wanted to talk to you about but never did. I was afraid of what you would say, how you would react, if what I said was not what you wanted to hear. So I never said those things and many more remained unsaid between the two of us.

Growing up I wanted to be cuddled and hugged by you every hour of the day, wanted to live in your shadow, never wanted to grow up coz growing up meant moving away from you. There were times when I was scared of you, coz I knew I had behaved in a manner you did not expect of me. You never said anything at those times. Many a mistake of mine have you overlooked, giving me a stern look was all you did.

You talked more with your eyes and I knew the meaning of every rise and drop of your eyelids. The unspoken word meant more to me then the spoken words. What was left unsaid was many times more important then the said word.

You were a strict mother; you had to be, being a single parent most of the year. At that time I did not understand, but now I understand the amount of self-restraint you must have used. Being a mother has made me realise the labour that you put into every thing you did for us, be it such a small thing as being at our sports functions to being awake before us to ensure we took a tiffin to school. I know, it seems minuscule but when one is supposed to get up at 5 in the morning so that the children can be got readied and tiffins packed, it is not a small thing (speaking personally, of course).

Now that I am mother, it has made me realise the role a mother plays in a child's life. A good mother can make a child while a bad mom can mar the child forever. I just want to tell you that you have been a very good mother and I wish I could have told you this when you there to hear/ read these words.

I am amazed at the strong will power you had till the last breath you took. You wavered only once in your desire to live and that broke me so much to see you weaken. Your body was much weaker then you in strength. All I wanted to do was hold on to you for longer, but I knew that would be selfish of me, so I let go. I let go of one thing that made sense in my life at that time.

There are days when I hear your voice and turn around to talk to you and realise that it is just imagination playing with my mind. But you are always there with me. Every step that I take I talk it out with you, every decision I make I discuss it with you. I sit down and think of what you would have advised me and then work from there.

Ma, I think it is time for me to now grow up and stop making my decisions on what you might have advised and live my life on my own as you always wanted me to. You had always wanted that I be my own person, and I remember how angry you used to get when I used to look at others for help.

So here's to living life as it should be lived..

On my own terms.. not on what the others wanted but on what I want


Love you and hope you are in a happy place