An old scribbling...

All it takes is for someone to snoop around to look for another destination. A place where people lead an idyllic life living in symbiosis with the elements of nature, with the divine forces as their guiding light. Venture capitalists move in. They show them the carrot and the lure of what money can do to enrich their 'impoverished' lives. They influence the elders who steamroll all oppositions who want to maintain the status quo. The general public thinks the opposers are just spoiled sports, reminiscing the old times, living in the past and not moving with times. The time to live, the new kids on the block say is now, and they do not want to be left behind.

So builds a frenzy, to join the bandwagon to draw sightseers to see what they had to offer. The natives were willing to play dance monkey to the tune of the first world revellers. Slowly, the natives' lives change. Their age-old tradition of caring for humanity rather than worldly materialistic things is but a thing of the past. Rituals and prayers are only for display like a caged animal in a zoo or a museum piece. Hey, it draws the crowd, and it pays for 'modernity' and 'development'. They all want to move forward in life, what to go one step ahead of what our forefathers left them. The world is changing, and they have a lot of catching up to do! They want modern education, modern amenities, industrialisation and avert the laborious unproductive ways of their fathers. They want to catch up with the rest of the world.

"For how long are they going to be cocooned on their so-called glorious past?" they ask.

Just like that modernity embraced the society.

Fast forward. What they see now is their people in the same helplessness. The only difference is that it had become worse with the introduction of greed as the primary armamentarium to prosper. Gone are the community spirit and need to live for continuity of the clan. They, instead, have become chess pieces in the game of the rich. Their way of life has become a hedonistic indulgence of the affluent to spread their beliefs as if they are too stupid to understand Nature and to live to respect it. The 'bearers of miracles' give them things under the pretext of bringing them out of the yoke of ignorance but time has shown that their shrewdness. See how many of theirs have been disillusioned with 'progress' and joined blindly to chase the mirage? There must be some wisdom in the words of the forefathers!

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What you want vs. what you need

Just as much as people love to indulge in seemingly unproductive activities like shopping, I like to just stand idle in the street somewhere and see how the world go at that corner of the planet. In fact, it is a form of mental callisthenics that stimulates the mind to think what possibly happened behind the persona that people portray as they walk head held high in confidence.

Down in Amritsar, Punjab, where the land is fertile, and the name of the town takes after the substance, honey, that has healing qualities and are soothing to the palate, my friends decided to bring home some of its produce.

To spice up your life, indulge in some people watching and let your mind go wild!

Walking down the rows of shops accompanied by the symphony of honking motor vehicles and enthusiastic shop assistants trying their level best to entice potential customers into their shops, I found the job in indulging in my occasional pastime of people watching. Engrossing oneself in this activity can also be self-defeating as it makes one vulnerable to the prying eyes of pickpockets and snatch-thieves on wheels.

Wise men always chide people who go on a rampage acquiring lands and properties as if we all carry all these to our graves. Sages insist that at the end of the day, we only need a 6' X 2' plot of land. The truth of this is so apparent in the case of many shop owners in India (or at least in my imagination).

Many provision shops owners work long hours sitting at the mouth of their joints in their 3' X 3' square behind their cash boxes. From this corner, they have the perfect hawkish view of their establishments. They can see the customers coming in, be able to invite them in; order their assistants to get the merchandise; oversee their activities and be ready to collect the moolah from clients. Even though this arrangement may appear claustrophobic to the uninitiated and potentially stifling to the knee joints, these people are perfectly at ease at such an arrangement. If you think they would need those occasional walkabouts, you are wrong. They even have their pre-packed meal there within the confines of their working 'desktop'.

I envisage that after work, they would go home and sit on their couches spending quality time with their loved ones, reading the newspaper or watching TV serials. Sitting again! At the end of the day, they would retire in their 6' X 3' space within their king-size or queen-size beds just to repeat the whole exercise the following day.

So, how much personal space do you really need?

 https://asok22.wixsite.com/real-lesson 

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.

What you want vs. what you need!

Just as much as people love to indulge in seemingly unproductive activities like shopping, I like to just stand idle in the street somewhere and see how the world go at that corner of the planet. In fact, it is a form of mental callisthenics that stimulate the mind to think about what possibly happened behind the persona that people portray as they walk head held high in confidence.

Down in Amritsar, Punjab, where the land is fertile, and the name of the town takes after the substance, honey, that has healing qualities and is soothing to the palate, my friends decided to bring home some of its produce.

To spice up your life, indulge in some people 

watching and let your mind go wild!

Walking down the rows of shops accompanied by the symphony of honking motor vehicles and enthusiastic shop assistants trying their level best to entice potential customers into their shops, I found the job of indulging in my occasional pastime of people watching. Engrossing oneself in this activity can also be self-defeating as it makes one vulnerable to the prying eyes of pickpockets and snatches thieves on wheels.

Wise men always chide people who go on a rampage acquiring lands and properties as if we all carry all these to our graves. Sages insist that we only need a 6' X 2' plot of land at the end of the day. The truth of this is so apparent in the case of many shop owners in India (or at least in my imagination).

Many provision shops owners work long hours sitting at the mouth of their joints in their 3' X 3' square behind their cash boxes. From this corner, they have the perfect hawkish view of their establishments. They can see the customers coming in, be able to invite them in, order their assistants to get the merchandise, oversee their activities and be ready to collect the moolah from clients. Even though this arrangement may appear claustrophobic to the uninitiated and potentially stifling to the knee joints, these people are perfectly at ease at such an arrangement. If you think they would need those occasional walkabouts, you are wrong. They even have their pre-packed meal there within the confines of their working 'desktop'.

I envisage that after work, they would go home and sit on their couches, spend quality time with their loved ones, reading the newspaper or watching TV serials. Sitting again! At the end of the day, they would retire in their 6' X 3' space within their king-size or queen-size beds just to repeat the whole exercise the following day.

So, how much personal space do you really need?

 https://asok22.wixsite.com/real-lesson 

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.

What do we really really want?

In the heat of the midday sun and 

the congestion of late morning 

midtown Lucknow traffic, two 

bosom buddies apparently of 

different faiths as evidenced by 

their choices of garments, tread 

the cracks between vehicles to 

reach their destination on the 

back of a motorcycle.

The thing about Lucknow that fascinates me is how the Lucknowites keeps alive their past history despite the pressures from external forces, namely the political leaders, who are hellbent on re-writing the nation's history to fit into their political agenda. With the heightened inclusiveness and fear of domination around the world, it is indeed enlightening to learn that people here relish upon their past. They must be thinking that to go forward in life, one should not forget where one has come from. Our future is determined by our history. If we do not remember where we came from, how are we going to know where are we heading to? History teaches us to avoid mistakes that Man had made as history has that bad habit of repeating itself.

When we look around, Lucknowites accept the differences in people. They appreciate the fact that their not so distant past had been different than today, somewhat unfathomable by the government of the day. Just like in many regions in the world, given a chance, the leaders would jump at the idea of re-writing history as deemed fit to fit into their narration.

The general public is least bothered of which is the correct path to salvation. All that they really really want is peace of mind, to survive, to care for their ones and to meet their biological needs. True, we are social animals, but animals are also known to respect each other's boundaries and have learnt to live with mutual acknowledgement of the other. Have we transgressed? Zigazig-ah?

The Launch of the book '2017 Best Asian Short Stories' in Shri Ramswaroop Memorial University, Lucknow @ 8.4.2018

Some scenes around Lucknow... 

Asfi Mosque in the sunset

Yet another view of Asfi Mosque.

Asfi Mosque Dome

And another, too fabulous to resist!

Frontal view of Bara Imambara complex

A soldier's birdseye view from the top storey of Bara Imambara building of its perimeter. The white-hued monument is Chota Imambara. The relics of the Nawabs sorely lack funding for upkeep. Structurally, it is claimed to be more intricate than the Taj Mahal. Unfortunately, this UP structure requires the political voice to garner funds from local or international concerns.

These passageways bear witness to the many turmoils and shenanigans created by Man in the name of nationalism, race, power, wealth, greed and wanting to dominate. Its secrets are lost in the annals of time. Who says the truth will slowly but surely prevail. Time and tide wait for no Man. We just hoodwink ourselves of the wheel of justice will correct injustices. Perhaps the spokes of its wheel are too large. Changes may occur only after a lifetime.

The interior of the Nawab 

Castle which also became a 

dargah, a Shia shrine to

commemorate a Saint. 

The curved ceiling is made 

of clay honey, moong dhal,

chickpeas and other 

mucilaginous emulsifiers.

The Stairway to the harem. 

In its heydays, there used to 

be a bathing pond for the beauties. 

Upon the water also reflected the image of the castle.

The mixture of light or dark background of the Bara Imambara Complex brings out the mysticism of the Muslim Nawabs and their Shia sect. They wanted to outshine the Mughal architecture. The main building is a work of accidental architecture. It boasts of many confusing labyrinths (bhulbhulaya)  and a secret tunnel to the Gomti River. The bhulbhulayas are unintended features of the building which were constructed to support the ceiling. It ended as a maze to confuse enemies and an escape route to the occupants.

It is said to be an engineering and architectural marvel superior to Taj Mahal, but like a stepchild gets none of the deserved attention.

The Rumi Darwaza. An imposing gateway modelled after a similiar structure in Turkey.

It is the night that our senses are heightened. Lurking shadows, however, conceal ugliness and alter judgement.

The road to Perdition is paved with unsavoury events, ruins, destruction and death. The Residency remains a reminder of India's first War of Independence in the form of 1857 Sepoy Mutiny. Annexation of Awadh, abdication of the Nawab to Calcutta, the controversies surrounding usage of pork and beef oils to grease Enfield bullets as well as the uprising in Meerut, spearheaded resistance in Lucknow. The building is still in a disused state with cannonball pock-marks still present on its wall.

The iconic female figure in the Indian Independence, Jhansi Rani, came to fore during the time of the Indian Rebellion. The British try to take over her region after the demise of her husband and the British's non-approval of her adopted son's ascent to the throne. Jhansi Rani rose to the occasion only to succumb to her injuries fighting.

Memorial in Residency

The Compound

Jhansi Rani

The Ruins, building not spirit!

What is Culture without Food? Food to the soul is not possible on a hungry stomach! Mental stimulation begins with gustatory stimulation!

Vegetarian Lucknow Cuisine

Chicken Tandoori (Mughal)

Thunde Kebab Mutton, Romali 

Roti, Chicken Afghani.

Chikan is a traditional fine embroidery that is specific to Lucknow. It is said to have been inspired by Nur Jahan, the wife of the Mughal Emperor Jahangir.

                          

Lucknow after dark. Traffic over River Gomthi

               

The skyline and its silhouette over River Gomathi

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Justice must appear to be done!

Jolly BA, LLB 2 (2017)

Is it not scary or what? Here I am heading to Lucknow for a literary festival, and on the plane, I randomly chose a film to watch. And the movie I decide to view is set in Lucknow, of all the places in India. Is it mere coincidence? Is it synchronicity, the higher powers over me having a quiet chuckle at my expense? Is it trying to show who the boss is? Or am I having a delusion of grandiose that the world revolves around me and for me? Daunting or am I just creating an issue out of nothing? A mountain out of a molehill or cherry-picking what suits me and cry "Boo!"

 This Akshay Kumar movie, which is the second offering after the excellent run of Jolly LLB. Sadly, the sequel does not live up to the standards of the former. It fails to impress in the humour department, and the story is pathetically predictable.

Jolly is a junior lawyer in an established law firm. He has not shown his mettle and is often looked down upon by his boss, partly because of his humble beginnings. To prove his worth, he sets up his own law firm by deceiving a client of her money. The client, a pregnant mother, tries desperately to clear her deceased husband's name who was accused of terrorism. She screams of police brutality, but nobody seems interested. Upon realising that she has been cheated, she commits suicide. The remorseful Jolly promise to continue the widow's work.

The law remains the last bastion upon which the common man can seek justice. Even though the truth is multifaceted and is dependent on perspectives, the ordinary Joe should have an avenue to air his grievances and hope for sympathy, remuneration and dignity. Increasingly the legal system appears not to seek justice but just mete punishment. The judicial system fails to portray independence and merely act as a rubber stamp of the ruling political master. Altruism and morality remain only in rhetorics, as a smokescreen to convince, not in action. It exudes a corrupt image that is easily bought over by power, money and all the ugly primal, animalistic instincts. Paradoxically this was the very reason why our forefathers tried to establish a system where the average person, deficient in own ways, also gets a place in the sun to carry the duties of his existence. The autonomy of the judiciary appears only on paper. 

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Adversities part of life!

Partition Museum, Amritsar.

Every day we hear of people justifying the violence that is accelerating around the world to injustices of those in power against the powerless. The perpetrators rally behind their leaders who hail their people as victims of an unjust system. They are ready with conspiratory theories to justify resistance to the cruel world. 

Unfortunately, life is never easy. Demands snowballs when one party's need is fulfilled. Pretty soon, splinter factions will arise, and the requests never end. Even people who had been uprooted from the hostilities still insists on returning to their past glory days, which by all accounts, may be a figment of their imagination.

Examples of these are aplenty around us.

My recent meetings with close Sindhi friends whose past generation was the victim of such an atrocity showed me how they handled the whole catastrophe. I did not think much of what they were saying then, but my recent visit to the recently opened (August 2017) Partition Museum put everything in perspective.

At the dawn of 15th August 1947, India and Pakistan saw a mass exodus of brothers separated only by religion. The scale of migration was of gargantuan proportions, only seen in war times. 4.7 million Pakistani Hindus migrated to India. Their send-off was anything but courteous, and their welcome was no red carpet. The Hindus were mainly from Sindh district which had been annexed to Pakistan with a single stroke of the pen of a senior lawyer, Cyril Radcliffe, from the UK. The idea of the British was to get the hell out of their colonies as they had become quite a thorn in their flesh. Radcliffe fitted the bill quite neatly as he had never been to India and thus was ignorant of the intricacies, local politics and bondages that the region shared. In record time, seven weeks, he slashed off cultures, bonds and relationships built over centuries. Realising the hardship that he was going to create, Radcliffe left India without even collecting the fees due to him.

Neighbours, who had had cordial brotherly relationships, suddenly transformed into machete-wielding demons who loot and went on killing and raping sprees. Overnight, people lost everything - money, family, homes and dignity. Landowners and merchants became refugees, living on handouts and kindness of others with whatever little commonality and compassion they had. From diwans and zamindars, they became paupers.

The sad tale ended when the community took stock of their situation and started life afresh in other regions. Their diaspora can be seen spread the world over - India, Malaysia, Singapore, UK, US, Europe and the remotest corners of the world.

In every place they lay their hat, they called it home. And every land they sojourned, they had been resourceful and successful. They did not live on the pity of others, brandishing weapons and crying for revenge and justice.

https://www.dawn.com/news/1190552

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I can see you!

Fastfood, Amritsar style ©JMatthew

There I was clinging on to the side-rail and my dear life as the auto-rickshaw needled its way through the tiny alleys squeezing through the passage with surgical precision that only a neurosurgeon can outdo. Stunts that these fellows can do, even Evel Knievel would fail. They knew their vehicles like the back of their hands as if their machines were extra appendages of their bodies. They do not need a reverse camera to judge the distance to the car behind them. Neither required is the irritating tones of sensors for their work. They just need their car horns. Have honk will travel! They swerve past pedestrians leaving a trail of dust and smoke without a care in the world. The blaring horns seem not a last-minute desperate measure to alert but instead gave rhythm to the rickety vehicle and noisy engines like Illayaraja's percussions accompanying his masterpiece. The automan's joy and pride, his horn, gave warnings of different tones, from a light whisper to a yell to an almost angina-inducing 'foul-languaged' curse that 
would chase animals and even people into hiding. Welcome to India. 

This was an entirely new experience for me. Guarded against the vultures from the land of the survival of the fittest, I had it cushy. I had been taught and was expected by the fellow users of the road, to uphold certain decorum. I come from a land where rules were made to be followed, not flaunted.

Here, red on the traffic lights are mere ornaments like the ones that dorn the Christmas trees. Traffic signs are just accessories. Traffic rules are Aesop's fables, only for children. Seat belts, safety helmets, overloading... what are they?

Despite all the chaos, the continuous trail of movement of people with the heated brake pads, nobody seems incensed. Nobody shows any emotion. Like an emotionless poker player, motorists just overcome their obstacles with monastery students' patience. Nobody has time to show their displeasure, either with their middle finger or steering locks. Perhaps, they realise that the mascot-idol on their dashboard is watching their every move.

There is no bottleneck, just a slight hiccup in the system. There is always a little space for an oversized vehicle to squeeze through in these narrow lanes. The pavements are still there for the autos to do a side wheelie!

I see you!

"I was here first!' screamed the tree echoed by other tree
huggers! ©FG

             There is place for everyone on God's Earth ©FG