Wednesday, September 28, 2016

Fiber or fibre ..

I’ve been all wrong, entirely, completely wrong. I’ve been crying myself hoarse over all the wrong reasons. Wake up, show the inner strength, the spirit, and the jazba, save Punjab, and revive the spirit of the martyrs and the freedom fighters to make the state and then the country a better place. In fact, slowly over the years I realized it was the neighbor hood that I needed to start with and then see the change that we all so wanted.
But, it just took a small bump to the head that made me realize that I was wrong. The bump happened in reality and it made me understand what we were lacking. It was the fiber that was missing in us, that made us what we were. We have become constipated to such an extent that we were all clogged and full of it with our own ideas and beliefs that all the values, the traditional morals that we as Punjabis, Indian s had trickled down to nothing.
I do intend all the puns here. The fact that we, the society, the politicians and even the children revive and resurrect the name of the freedom fighters to garner votes and then to shelf them till the next important anniversary shows the degradation of all of us. From a nation of brave hearts, brave soldiers, freedom fighters, who have all struggled and shaped the country today to what it is, we have been reduced to a country that sucks like a parasite on former glory, leeches on them and their heroism to get the maximum mileage; translate into votes. A country where acid attacks are far getting far more common, violent stabbing of a woman if she says no, to imposing all sorts of restrictions on her because she was enticing and tempting a man to molest her and commit rape, we have come a long way where its own Gurus gave up their lives to save the distress of women.
What is missing? Nothing you and I say is ever going to make a difference. It’s not the moral fiber; it’s the fibre that is lacking on our diet s.
All, they ever need to do is give Isabgol as a mandatory ration to every person and voila! The clogged drains would be open and well the rest I leave to imagination. Imagine, (heavily borrowing from John Lennon)  a country where we all are free , we all have no boundaries and we are free to live , not judged by caste , color , creed .
Ever year, maybe half of our working year we bring up the name of our martyrs so we can create a sympathetic vote bank to capture the votes. The fact that we remember these freedom fighters is to invoke a subconscious guilt in the mind so that we may vote for the person or the political party to appease and assuage our own mind set . The colors, the turbans, the garlnds and the meetings are held to impress upon the voter , who saldy enough is so constipated and has a blocked mind that all is bounced upon him and he refuses to think for himself just meekly goes along with who ever impacts him the most or makes him go down the nostalgia trip.
For you and me and all of us, the missing fiber can be found in the isabgol husk that instead of being exported should be distributed free so that we all have a sound movement .It all just boils down to the diet you see, kick the junk out , eat healthy and eat your greens and think straight and also stop resorting to resurrecting the freedom as and when you think it suits you . Political party’s are started on his birthplace , when it suits the politician , his lines are used to invoke and inspire and make the public collect in a frenzy . Don’t let him be a crowd puller, respect him instead and one would be amazed at his revolutionary ideas !

To use Bhagat Singh , time and again to again influence the voter and to draw him to vote for a party that is closest to him , is not what he wanted. He would have been pained, if he was alive to see what his state has become . Respect that and show some gumption values with a helping of Isabgl , if you please. Telephone brand works the best.

Sunday, September 25, 2016

letters to the state 4

Dear Punjab,


There comes a time, when some times we have brilliant movies that move and shake our psyche and our mindset. Pink is one of them, its set closer home, in Delhi and could actually mirror any small or large city in Punjab. An influential young man and his cronies are having a good time, and invite a bunch of girls for dinner and the fact that they are drinking and wearing western outfits makes them available to sex.
The movie raises brilliant questions and asks that just because one is wearing a skirt, or is from the Northeast they are available for sex?
Where is it written or unwritten in the manual code of Manu that this means that they would go all the way?
Why do our men think that if the girl is laughing is smiling and she is drinking with them it means her morals are missing? Does it not hold true for men? Why are men allowed to get away with smiling, laughing and drinking and their morals are intact while a woman is leading and tempting them to commit a sin?
Isn’t it interesting that it is women who tempt them by wearing clothes, laughing, touching while talking and even sharing an alcoholic drink? Why are men not taught when they are growing up to respect a woman’s choice and her answer?
There is a line where Amitabh (kudos to him, love his bi-polar layer acting who sets a manual code for girls) says we should teach our boys and save them to save the girls. He says, no in itself is a complete sentence. No explanation needed nor should be given.
Why is that the time, the length of the skirt and the fact that they are roaming outside the car can slow down and approach the girl?
And, the hard hitting embarrassing yet truthful dialogs all hit home. Some, people at the theatre kept on saying (in spite of watching the movie) till what level should the girls be taught? What should be the level of education? I am wondering whether we should be gau mata or should we be the embodiment of Shakti /Kali/ Durga as shown by the scriptures?
Why do we threaten? Women are liked and acceptable as long as we are in the boundaries made to suit man.
By the way, this is not a feminist rant nor is it a jhola wearing bra- burning stand, it is just a reflection of our times, where a woman is still questioned and frowned if she reaches the grand old senile age of 30, that how come she is not married? She must have had broken engagements or something must be wrong in her kundli! Or the age-old stigma she must be dark and not fair and lovely!
How I wish this movie is shown to everyone; a done is made to realize that a woman has a right to say No, and even so a wife.
Till we in totality do not treat our women, girls with respect due to them , we cannot be a developed nation. Do not get bogged down by outer clothing , or lay down a moral policing code and for heaven’s do not shame yourself by thinking the northeast girls are easier.
She is not a complex arithmetical code that she is easy or tough . And, the hackneyed arguments of the Indian male so need to change ! The Bhartiya nari changed and is changing, let her soar and fly !


Yours ,
A happy , impressed viewer .

Ps: woman viewer .

Letters to the state 4

Dear Punjab,


There comes a time, when some times we have brilliant movies that move and shake our psyche and our mindset. Pink is one of them, its set closer home, in Delhi and could actually mirror any small or large city in Punjab. An influential young man and his cronies are having a good time, and invite a bunch of girls for dinner and the fact that they are drinking and wearing western outfits makes them available to sex.
The movie raises brilliant questions and asks that just because one is wearing a skirt, or is from the Northeast they are available for sex?
Where is it written or unwritten in the manual code of Manu that this means that they would go all the way?
Why do our men think that if the girl is laughing is smiling and she is drinking with them it means her morals are missing? Does it not hold true for men? Why are men allowed to get away with smiling, laughing and drinking and their morals are intact while a woman is leading and tempting them to commit a sin?
Isn’t it interesting that it is women who tempt them by wearing clothes, laughing, touching while talking and even sharing an alcoholic drink? Why are men not taught when they are growing up to respect a woman’s choice and her answer?
There is a line where Amitabh (kudos to him, love his bi-polar layer acting who sets a manual code for girls) says we should teach our boys and save them to save the girls. He says, no in itself is a complete sentence. No explanation needed nor should be given.
Why is that the time, the length of the skirt and the fact that they are roaming outside the car can slow down and approach the girl?
And, the hard hitting embarrassing yet truthful dialogs all hit home. Some, people at the theatre kept on saying (in spite of watching the movie) till what level should the girls be taught? What should be the level of education? I am wondering whether we should be gau mata or should we be the embodiment of Shakti /Kali/ Durga as shown by the scriptures?
Why do we threaten? Women are liked and acceptable as long as we are in the boundaries made to suit man.
By the way, this is not a feminist rant nor is it a jhola wearing bra- burning stand, it is just a reflection of our times, where a woman is still questioned and frowned if she reaches the grand old senile age of 30, that how come she is not married? She must have had broken engagements or something must be wrong in her kundli! Or the age-old stigma she must be dark and not fair and lovely!
How I wish this movie is shown to everyone; a done is made to realize that a woman has a right to say No, and even so a wife.
Till we in totality do not treat our women, girls with respect due to them , we cannot be a developed nation. Do not get bogged down by outer clothing , or lay down a moral policing code and for heaven’s do not shame yourself by thinking the northeast girls are easier.
She is not a complex arithmetical code that she is easy or tough . And, the hackneyed arguments of the Indian male so need to change ! The Bhartiya nari changed and is changing, let her soar and fly !


Yours ,
A happy , impressed viewer .

Ps: woman viewer .

Wednesday, September 21, 2016

Letters to the State 3

Dear Punjab,

Lambi Lambi umar hove teri!
I wish you all the best always, today and tomorrow. I am so thank ful to you for giving me a pension in my old age. My name is Umro, and I don’t know if I am close to 75years or 80 years but definitely can feel the creak in my bones and every part of me hurts. I walk weirdly, like a pendulum trying to walk in a way that is least painful to me, my hair are grey, white wispy and I guess I am bald now.
Once, I had the best eyesight but now it’s failing and now cannot see as well and some portions are grey and hazy.
I don’t know how to put this across; it is a matter of shame, intense and immense shame. One does not go around talking about one’s private household matters in public. That was one of the unwritten codes explained to us when we were growing up.
But as, its between you and me, I need to tell someone. I am afraid the pension that I get every month ensures that I live and it ensures that I do not die. I am only valuable to my son, oh my precious son who I gave birth after five daughters so, so that the family name may carry on . The Rs 650, that I get ensures that my son takes me to the panchayat ghar to get the money after putting my angootha and then if I try to keep some money with me, I am hit and its taken away forcibly.
Rest; of the month I am only given a meal a day, so that indigestion doesn’t happen. My tea that I am so fond of is watered down, as milk is so expensive. My clothes are in tatters and all I have is one good suit.
Why don’t you save the money and not give us pension? Just make old age homes, so we may all live in dignity and not of this noose where we are only given importance to the day when we receive pension?
I am tired, broken and just want to die. That would give me deliverances 650 doesn’t define nor is my value. I am worth more.

Teri Maa.

Countdown to the shaadi season

Punjab goes through two seasons, literally wedding and no wedding but looking forward to the wedding season. And, I have it on great authority that the country next door that this is what Lahore also witnesses. As, winter approaches women go through a manic over-haul. There is a frenzy all around me, where all of them go through a major cleaning spree, looking for an elusive, exclusive heirloom piece hidden somewhere that was not found before hand.
Women, around me look for a color that has not been worn before, its named and called by all the completely absurd names like teal, tapioca, my favorite watermelon red, canary yellow, a lilac that makes one shine, ruby red, every color that we had in the Camlin crayon box is officially extinct like the dodo. They don’t believe in blue any more, it’s more of the political Akali blue, or the azure blue, teal blue, aqua blue to name a few. Life just gets more and more complicated.
Friends, family all want clothes that are smart, and look good on them and every woman gets clothes done in a size she will fit into by the next month or when the first function is, because she is now on this no carbs- eat your head diet.
When they stop eating, they all start getting short tempered and angry and the temper gets lit by the even smallest fuse. The diets are crazier each season, no carbs, drink cold coffee, drink the green tea, eat five almonds, soak this, don’t soak this, my head spins with the latest combinations! In fact, the exercises sound even bizarre, Pilates , zumba and spin bicycling. For me just plain walking itself is exhausting. All this is done to be warzone ready and be prepared for the wedding season.
In fact, the biggest secret is the tailor wala or the boutique wali who churns out the smartest, trendiest outfit for them.
The name is guarded even more than that of the nuclear codes held in secrecy by the state heads. Women all want something exclusive and it’s all kept under wraps till the function or the event.
Heavens would fall, if there were any twinning (not to be confused with the Twinning’s tea company. Namedropping is so common that I wonder if I am the only one who wears normal suits stitched in my back yard. The prices can vary from the down payment of a small house to three iPhones and sometimes I feel it’s really a mountain of a molehill!
The political scenario is also having its own subtle effect on the fashionistas, you could be the blingy jatt Akali, the back to the roots hand- woven Bjp, the plain jhola type simple in the face AAp supporter or you could be the expensive designer apparel worn by the congress supporter who unconsciously mirrored Mrs. G who supported the original handloom revivalist movement.
In fact, the fashion is not limited to the women only, men take on different hues and the turbans and the shawls are stunning in color!
My Punjab, hor ki also comes up with the most interesting functions and the venues, the décor, the invites, the mithai all amaze, stun and try to outdo the other in expense. Reportedly the budget, every year notches up higher and faster than the inflation rate.
In fact, as winter season approaches, we suddenly see women get fairer than before, and the maximum lightening procedures are done to look fair and lovely. The way women polish and buff themselves to be ready for the approach of the wedding months is tantamount to the annual military exercises held by the Indian army. A complete deployment of the forces, I must say.

However what are ruling the day are Pammi Aunty and Sarla Bhenji. Maybe the coup at the next Punjabi wedding would be to have them along with hot and happening and available Brad Pitt. And, before you know it, it would be updated with a selfie and splashed on face book. Till then, I am doing post spring early fall cleaning.