The Great Dharna

Day: Tuesday, Monday, Saturday, Sunday… how does it matter?
Date: 27/04/10, 27/04/09, 27/04/08, 27/04/11…who cares?
Venue: Town Hall, Jantar Mantar, Ramlila ground, roads, gutters…where?

Aims: Usual… delay in payment of arrears, conformation of employees working on contractual basis, issue of medical cards as there’s no med allowance given anymore etc, etc etc…

Crowd: teachers half willingly loaded in teacher’s association buses and left to flock around. Many thought it would be a good opportunity to shop at Chandni Chowk, C.P, ITO, Daryaganj etc etc… others came to ensure a leave from the principal and many came to strengthen their contacts for future use in the intra-institutional political career.

Interesting crowd. Part bored, part tired, part discussed the census duties hanging like an albatross around their necks and part enjoying the disruption of the abnormally normal life at the moonlight square (Chandni Chowk). People took a day out to make their presence felt.

Presence……


It is an extremely important feeling. People forget, who they are, while they run around to ensure their daily bread and butter. People forget, who others are, in their daily struggle to move ahead faster with every step, quicker with each turn.

But, did it really happen? Who knows about it? How many people with considerable intellect sitting high in their ‘Ivory Towers’ know about it? And even if they do, how many care about it? Hardly any. Do people who came together for that sultry day out, do they care about it? Hardly. We all know we can call a dharna, disrupt a normal life which might not be so ‘normal’ after all and feel we have achieved a world of difference but in reality it doesn’t make any difference to anybody. It is simply passed of as another social gathering and then people forget about it till the next election campaigns.

Teaching is passed of as a profession that ensures easy money and involves no teaching. The statement is partly true and partly false; read the latest draft of ‘Right to education Bill’. Most of us know it to be true while most of us would also like to disagree with me. Each to her/his own. I am not forcing my opinion on anybody. The paradox is that a teacher need not know how to teach but follow the institutional ethos of the work place to ensure a good future if it may be called a future. The truth is education in an educational institute seems to be the last thing on the minds of the people who are part of that institution.

Well, but let us not get sentimental here. Let us, like honest historians be aware of the all the anomalies and I must only provide hard hitting facts. The speeches delivered were well written and quite eloquent. People literally had tears in their eyes…(did you say crocodile? Please.)The traffic went on smoothly after a couple of hours. People met and congratulated each other on being ‘present’ in the sultry hot weather. Contacts were shared, comments made on apparels. Jewelry discussed. Comments made on the complete uselessness of such gatherings and the work was done. The metro saw an unexpected rush of shoppers/fellow demonstrators. It must be noted by anyone who is planning to organize such event that the choice of venue is extremely important and if it is a market place it becomes an added attraction.

Though the persistent indifference on the part of a lot of people made it quite ineffectual, the evening must have witnessed a host of fellow organizers huddling up together to pat each other’s back on the success of an extremely grand campaign. The funds will come when they come, the appointments made whenever they would be and people will certainly take care of their health for their own sakes but who doesn’t like to wash their hands in running water. We all do, certainly, like I have, by writing about it.

hi again...

there are times when all you need is to talk to urself and read about yourself in any way possible. whether its thru writing or dancing or painting. one needs to constantly read oneself in watever language one can. its kind of a survival need.
its holi n for the first time in life m nt exicted. not really liking it though. i wont complain of the work factor coz everybody has work but over the years a gradual cynicism for life is spreading to my entire mental and vital consciousness. we used to play a fantastic holi as kids. even in college for that matter but for the last seven eight years there hasnt been much of an activity. no one really plays it for fun. neighbours gather together as its customary formality and needs to be taken care of. colleauges celebrate at work to be nice or atleast try to appear to be nice. guys(not all) enjoy as they get a chance to roam around the streets nonchalant but sitting at home used to be boring and the boredom is slowly giving way to indifference. i dont want to be indifferent to such a beautiful festival, to colors, to life. i am trying hard to convince myself that its going to be lovely tomorrow but...
anyways happy holi.

om manglam manglam namah...

hi again.
Life at every age and with every stage brings a variety of condiments and spices that one has to learn to digest. You see if you are not a person who is used to eating chillies and you have been served the dark green chutney that Rushdie talks about then boss, your nose, your eyes, your stomach basically this divine body that you have will give it back to you.
Trust me.
Even if you dont i would still take a few more lines of this beautiful blog space(read i am possesive of my spaces and everybody is not allowed), so coming back i would like to share with you a very interesting phenomenon. Once you have crossed the age of say twentyone or twenty two, people around you relentlessly talk and jabber about the need and importance of you getting married to someone as if post Adam nd Eve/ Manu and Shradha you are the one who has to take the entire responsibilty of populating this world. I have also observed a couple of other factors which play an important role in one's becoming a target of such goodwill advice(read we have suffered it, we wont spare you talk). I must also clarify that i am talking about urban middle class/working class/salaried class or simply put the bourgoies section of society.
One of them is what age does one start working(read a permanet job) and the other is one's health(read thin/fat). So if you start working at the age of say twenty one like i did you sure are to be subjected to the goodwill advice the day you join. Your collegues will jabber, your neighbours and relatives would start looking for a suitable boy for you, your boses will try to fix you up etc etc as if now you have come to a stage where you are fit to be the sacrificial lamb. On the other hand if you are still studying or havent been able to find a secure job the pressure is much less, you still need to be fed. Secondly if you are a thin, sweet/innocent/good looking(read blonde) then people wont really care about the fact even if you are twenty eight but if you by any chance are fat/overweight/obese and ofcourse have been rendered under confident by the grace of a series of assaults made at you everyday, then, the day you turn twenty one you get gifts like a month's subscription to the best gym in town or an appointment pre-fixed with the best dietician. Everyday of your life people torture you to questions such as How old are you? what are your plans for the future? Isn't the diet plan working? Do you realize people prefer slim girls, why dont you loose some weight? Why dont you try some power yoga? BLAH..BLAH..BLAH...
There are people who marry out of choice, willingly(god help them) but for people(read females) if you are about to cross the threshold of the age of twenty five(then god really must help you). We (read the middle class intelligensia or a duplicate copy of it) feel proud to belong to a society where we give our girls the freedom to stay unmarried till twentyfive and pursue what they want to(read confinement to academics or medicine). This seems to come straight from some shakespearian farce. Why does it become so difficult for people (relatives/neighbours/colleauges) to comprehend and digest a simple fact that even if a woman(a respectful term for not so young a girl) has crossed the threshold age (25) ITS PERFECTLY ALRIGHT. Why should they trouble themselves(read fuss over you and bitch among themselves) about it. I would like to call it SFR Syndrome i.e Silly Form of Revenge Syndrome. I call upon all the great minds of this world to find some antidote to this deeply rooted cultural disease that has been afflicting Wo/mankind for sooooooooooo sooooooooo long.

i welcome you all...

A new blog...
why?
well...
did not really feel like prosing while i was poesying... (oceanicmirages.blogspot.com)(read it if you want to read poetry)
wannabe?
may be...
who cares anyways...
hey...
i do.
well this is goin to b the first time i would be sharing wat i feel, unmasked,devoid of any layers,no hidden inuendos... or may be...
well...
today all i would share is my amazement and awe for our electricity departments. as most of you know it rained in delhi and ncr yesterday for around forty odd mins and lo behold! there was a SIXTEEN hour LONG POWER CUT. i have always womdered why is it that whenever it rains theres no electricity and whenever it doesnt rain, then also yes, you got it, theres no elctricity. Cool...
well i would continue writing such amateur observations...
hope you read, comment. complement. criticise blah, blah, blah...
cya then.