Connecting with the older generation

These days, I find myself doing quite a bit of domestic work at home. Not that I am complaining.. more on that in another post. One of my activities includes going to the local flour mill. Our visits to the flour mill have increased ever since we switched to natural and bio-degradable alternatives for washing hair - a mixture of soapy nuts(Reetha in Hindi/Antwaal in Kannada), Shikakai and various dals. I have also finally managed to convince my mom to switch to a similar mixture for dishwashing too. And that is what took me to the flour mill today - to get a mixture of soapy nuts, shikakai and dried orange/lemon peels done. As usual, the 83-old owner of the flour mill greeted me with his one-toothed smile :) I have always appreciated him for his hardwork, dedication and cheerfulness even at such a ripe age. Today, we spoke a lot more than usual. After the usual questions about the Reva, it was my turn to ask questions. Going by his nature and his age, I guessed that he should have been part of our freedom struggle, and I was right. I have always had a fascination for freedom fighters - my respect made stronger by a freedom fighter who was our neighbour who drove many community initiatives. So this old man had spent 20 days in a Bellary jail and one day in Bangalore Central jail. There was a sparkle in his eyes when he talked about being in jail.

There was more to come. When I enquired about his freedom fighter's pension, he said he had not opted for it saying the same money can be used for someone else who has probably lost a limb in the struggle for our freedom. His reasoning is that he is still capable of earning for himself and his share of the pension can be given to someone else who is in need. Before I left, I did tell him that we are also fighting a different kind of freedom struggle - a struggle to 'save the earth' for ourselves and our future. Even I said this, he threw away his plastic tea cup on the road. But, I told myself - this is a mess that we have created and it is our responsibility to solve it. They have already done their bit in the 1940s.

Back home, I happened to have one of the many heart-to-heart conversations with my grandmom. Today, she told me about how she (and many others in her generation) struggled to raise half a dozen or more kids, sometimes single handedly as the husband led a care-free life. Compare that to today's woman who has access to specialized hospitals to help deliver children and playhomes and grandparents to take care of the kids. She laughed when I told her that fathers get paternity leaves too.

At the end of the day, I felt that every generation has its saviours and strugglers who make it easier for the next generation.

Help from unexpected quarters

The kids in our locality have developed a liking to our house because they believe they are free to do anything at our place. One of them even mentions the USP of our house to her friend as a place where there is lots of ಕಲ್ಲು and ಮಣ್ಣು (stones and soil) to play. So, I am not surprised when they voluntarily come and lend a hand in the garden. The girls carefully water the plants while the boys enjoy playing with tools.

However, what I witnessed today was funny and touching at the same time. I regularly pick up cow dung from the streets and occasionally some dry leaves as well, for our compost. Our locality has many Neem trees and one such tree was chopped partially leaving a lot of leaves on the side walks. As I picked up the dried leaves, many people glanced, smiled, asked questions and went away. But, three little 8 or 9 yr old girls (from migrant laborer families) stood there, wondering whether to talk to me or not. They just couldn't take it that a person from a 'well-off' family was 'sweeping the street' as they perceived it. The most proactive of them finally came to me and asked me "Aren't you from the brick house"? I said yes. She continued. "Why are you doing this? You will become dark." I told her that I have always been dark. She argued "No, I have seen you before, you were not like this. You don't do this. I will do it for you." I smiled and let her help me. We talked about her studies for sometime and how much she likes studying and going to school. Then she made me another offer, again to prevent me from becoming dark. She wanted to wash utensils and clean our house, after she comes back from school, as she does in another house. I told her we do our own work and if she really wants to help, she can help me in the garden. And I told her I will help with her studies. Then she asked me in a small voice if I would charge tuition fees.

She also told me that they hoisted a flag in school for Republic Day which is why today was a holiday for them. I hope she studies well and doesn't have to wash dishes forever.

Joint families revisited

When I was in school, I had one class mate in the whole class who was part of a joint family. It was a real joint family with lots of people - not the 'two brothers staying together with their families and parents' types. It seemed very different to me as joint families were unheard of in cities. I don't know if I liked it for the novelty of it. There was another joint family in my mother's town - it was my mother's cousin's family. Everyone stayed together in a huge house with a big kitchen, a big hall, a huge front yard and a backyard, a common bathroom where all the kids bathed together, a big well, a cow shed, etc.. There was a hierarchy that was understood and respected by everyone and work was shared without any visible hassles. There was something intriguing, almost mystical about the joint family. I liked spending time there, observing how things worked - my favorite place secured in front of the Ole (Chulha in Hindi), with a cat sleeping in my lap. Hmm.. those were the days..

Now, why am I suddenly reminded of a joint family? I think the power of joint families to bring people together comes out strongly during extremes - during good and bad times. The tragic loss of a neighbor would probably have been felt less by the near and dear ones, had they lived in a joint family. Things are definitely better in our locality with everyone supporting one another. Nevertheless, it got me thinking about the advantages of being in a joint family. Historically, joint families came to be joint families because of economic reasons, or occupational reasons to be precise. The whole family was into agriculture or some joint business. The ladies had lot of work on their hands as everything was made at home - from papads to sambar powder. And kids had the most fun. Sharing came naturally and this applied to both materialistic as well as non-materialistic things. Of course, there were disadvantages such as lack of privacy, or one member contributing less or more, but people were generally good and honest and the head of the family resolved the issues before it could spoil the harmony.

These days, with the society moving towards individualism, the closest we can get to a joint family is parents living together with their grown up kids. I do know of a joint family of a friend, but it is more of an exception than the rule. I would love to be proved otherwise though I myself am quite skeptical about families - joint families or otherwise - with generation gaps and the complicated lives that we lead.

The Chicago connection..

One thing that I have learned on this whirlwind trip to the US is to “Never say never”. Firstly, I never wanted to visit the US because I thought about it as being a very materialistic place. But, as luck would have it, I have completed 2 trips to this free country. Freedom is very relative and I would like to reserve talking about it, to a separate thread.

Secondly, I always thought lasting friendships are created only during school or college, but this myth was debunked when I made some real good friendships at work. One of them is the reason for my one trip to Mumbai and two trips to Chicago, so far. I made the trip to Mumbai a few years back, just to visit her, thinking that it would be the last time that I would see her as she was moving permanently to the US – something that she thought she would 'never' do. Couple of years back, I made a trip to the east coast of US, courtesy some of my good friends from college and I couldn't miss the trip to Chicago to visit this friend from Mumbai. The timing was perfect too – she had just had a baby. She took time out and we went around Chicago downtown where I was introduced to Panera Bread – an uptown alternative to Subway sandwiches. Chicago, I got to know from my friend, is known for its architecture. I did notice that the buildings were different from one another – unlike in New York City where everything seems like a tall rectangular structure. Chicago is home to the famous Bean by Indian born artist Anish Kapoor.

How the next visit to Chicago happened is something I cannot explain – just as I cannot explain how my other friend and I started on the crazy road trip from Indiana to California. My friend from Mumbai calls it a “karmic connection”. I guess it must be true. We were treated like family as we chatted heartily over yummy food and the little one entertained us throughout our stay. It was a very short stop-over, but a memorable one. My friend told us that she was jealous about us making the road trip – I guess true friends are like that; they do not hide anything :)

Public transport in the land of the automobile

In the land of the automobile, the thought of taking public transport raises many eyebrows. Except for known, straight forward routes, very few venture to hop onto a bus/train. When I wanted to go on my own, my friend was concerned, but I was adamant. I thought nothing is impossible when I have the power of Google. I was very impressed with Google maps providing even the cost difference between public transport and car; next should be carbon emissions.

I spent a good part of the day researching on how to travel from Fremont to Stanford and then onto San Francisco for Critical Mass(CM) and then back home. This trip involved taking the BART train, AC transit bus, then a free shuttle bus, then Caltrain, then BART and then BART again after CM. It was quite a lot to write down; but I noted contingency plans as well.

Since I had to take my borrowed cycle on all these modes, I researched on that too. It looked pretty easy to take it on a bus and even easier to take it on Caltrain. I had already taken the bike on BART, so that was no longer an unknown.

Everything looked fine, till I realized that the tickets are different on every mode of transport. And, everything is automated - there is no one to ask too. I googled and was happy to find a combined ticket for all modes of transport - a clipper card - even my friend did not know much about it. My happiness at my discovery lasted only a few hours since we found that the clipper card was not easily available. And I was too stupid to ask her for her comments on my itinerary. Well, I missed a bus - but I had plan B. So, I took BART, but had already missed the connecting bus to get to the other side (SFO side). The next bus was an hour later. When the bus finally arrived, I handed out a 20$ bill, the lady said 'no change' (You have to bring in your own change all the time - luckily, BART stations have change vending machines). I learnt the hard way - by losing a dollar - that you have to give 'exact change' . I still had to load my bike onto the bus and the bus driver gave me a grumpy look at my struggles, but who cares! Loading the bike was damn easy, but I was not very confident. I always had an eye on the bike and missed watching the sorroundings, until someone put another bike in front of mine. I was now able to take my eyes off the bike and completed the first leg of my journey without any more events. It was relatively easy to find the way to Stanford from Palo Alto. I cycled on the wide bike lanes in Stanford, trying not to make any comparisons with IISc.

As I approached the next leg of my journey, I stopped looking at my notes as they longer made any sense. I went around the Palo Alto transit stop but not even a small info kiosk, nothing.. just a couple of automated ticket vending machines and a map of Caltrain and a whole lot of other transport 'companies'. I so much missed mapsearch and SBB of Switzerland - just one ticket that lets you take any mode of transport - train, tram, bus, boat.. u name it. But, here, you just cross the bay and its a new transport company and a new ticket. The train to SFO did not have proper naming too - just a number on the front - how do they expect new comers to know all this! I finally reached SFO and a native American girl asked me if we had reached SFO - I was happy to be treated as a local :). She also had a bike, so it was now my turn to ask her if she was going to critical mass. Yes, she was and she knew the route to the meeting point. We cycled on the narrow bike lanes along with trams, buses, cars, sharing the same road. Critical mass was exciting - I expected nothing less - and then I was back to the familiarity of BART.

So far, BART has been the most efficient and easy to understand. Still a long way to go for public transport in the US of A.

Meter Jam? or Please, Thank you?

The Indo German film festival gave me an opportunity to catch up on the bits and pieces of German that I knew - or so I thought. The horrific killings and lack of humanity during wars - the movie that I saw was based on the Japanese attack on a Chinese city - overshadowed my literary quest. Reaching the venue was quite an adventure though.

For a change, I left home on time. But the first obstacle delayed me by 10 min. I had to drop my mom to the bus stop and as I got into the bus to help with the bags, the driver started the bus and wouldn't stop. The reason - CCTV would capture the images of the bus stopping at unauthorized places and he would be penalized! I did not know we had progressed so much. I thought to myself - Common sense is anyday better than mindless application of technological advances. Thankfully, the bus stopped at the nearest traffic signal and I got out - was lucky that the driver opened the door at the signal; some don't.

The next obstacle was fuel - Reva was not fully charged and I had to choose between leaving the car at my friend's place and take his vehicle and taking a risk with Reva. I did not like the option of using a petrol vehicle. I could charge the car at one of the many malls that support free charging, but the nearest one was too far from Ulsoor. Got to know from Reva service center that the Reva showroom near MG Road provides charging facility. That was perfect. So, we managed to reach there by 5:45 (the movie was to start at 6:30), left the car for charging(and parking ;) ) and set out on our next mission of finding an auto to take us to Ulsoor. One, two, three.. and I stopped counting.. none of the auto drivers would want to come to Ulsoor! We ran till Brigade Junction and I decided to try one last time. I stood adamantly and asked twice. He wouldn't come. Then I said Please and it worked!! We thanked him and paid 5 Rs extra.

I do not use the auto much, but in the few instances where I have used them, I have had more positive experiences than negative ones. I remember when I had once asked an auto driver if he would charge extra and he got offended. He proudly said that 'he is not like the others' and charged the right price. There was another guy who talked at length about his agricultural struggles and why he started driving an auto and how he has finally managed to settle down. I was once coming home from the railway station and I started a conversation with the driver about what will happen to them when the Metro comes to the city. He was grateful for the empathy which resulted in not picking up a fight over the price at the end of the journey. I have even got free and partly-free rides as well. There was an instance in which I wanted to get down 100 mts before my destination since I did not have enough cash, but the driver dropped me till my destination and even asked me to 'keep coming' that way - all because he was fascinated by my folding cycle :). I was once lost in HSR layout and I asked an auto driver for directions. The driver was going the same route and he said he would 'drop me' till there, for free!

So, a little bit of empathy, a please and a thank you will get you there more easily than threatening to call the police (which I have done once and itz not fun) or swearing at them.

The recent meter jam seems like a cool campaign but I doubt if it has met with much success. No, thank you, I would stick to Please, barthira?

One night in a telephone booth..

Long long ago, there was this girl who had a small wish of seeing Paris. Since she was in the UK anyway, she feels this is her best chance to make that wish come true. She speaks to some of her friends who have already made the mandatory trip from UK to France, does some research on the net and sets out on her journey. Wait a min.. being an Indian, she needs a visa (why can't we just travel freely??). And back then, there were no telephone appointments, so she is told to go really early (as in the night before) and stand/sit/sleep in a queue outside the French Consulate in London in order to get a visa appointment. For most people, this would be a pain, but for her, it was the beginning of an adventure. So, she finishes her work for the day, gets into many layers of warm clothing - it is mid Dec; it is not snowing, but it can get really cold in the night - and sets off, without listening to her worried manager's advice of taking a blanket along.

She reaches the Consulate to find a whole lot of people already queued up, with some of them bringing their tents along.. those who hadn't, were gathering cardboards, newspaper and such to make their place on the footpath a little more bearable. It dawns on our protagonist how ill-prepared she is; sometimes, our managers are right afterall! With the Euro-star tickets already booked for Christmas Eve, there was no looking back. She finds her place in the queue between a Chinese girl and a Pakistani family - talk about being neighbours :)

The best part about travelling alone is, it is much easier to strike a conversation with strangers than when in a group. There is no other go, actually. So the neighbours start talking about why they are making this trip - the Chinese girl wants to meet her mother who is in Paris and the Paki family is going on a vacation. Unable to bear the cold, the Chinese girl pulls out a cigeratte and starts smoking - this is the first time the Indian girl is seeing a girl smoke - and from such close quarters. Even with her Bangalore upbringing, she had only heard about women smokers but had never seen one. Without Orkut or Facebook, the only way to share this new discovery of hers is to call up her dear friend in Bristol and give an update. And there was more to come.

Now, the Indian girl is unable to bear the cold, what with frost all over the place. She looks around for shelter and finds a telephone booth - ah! what an idea. By this time, the Chinese girl has left. Having told her new neighbour to keep her place, the Indian heads to the telephone booth and makes herself comfortable - she even manages to stand there and catch some sleep. She is woken up after a few hours by some guy who wants to use the phone. Wonder why all those other people in the queue did not think of this idea! On second thoughts, good that they didn't. There weren't enough booths to accommodate everyone.

It's finally morning.. a hot cup of coffee brings some warmth. People have started moving around; a desi manages to pick up a fight with his Q-mates and the police have some work to do. Our girl eventually gets her visa appointment for a couple of a days later. It is afternoon by the time she heads back to work - with her hands and legs pink due to the cold, and the manager red due to his concern mixed with anger!

I don't know if I would go through another adventure like this.. but whenever I think of it, it fills me with new energy :)