Breaking the lull, and finding the self

It's been a long long time since I've written.

In fact it's been a while since I've felt like myself at all -powerful, energetic, smiling.The second term of my course has drained whatever was left of my physical and mental energy.

There are a lot of gaping holes now.There is a lack of direction to life,that I am actually enjoying.There is no past,no future.Just this moment.And this is what made my college trip to Vellore a delight.

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We went there to shoot a fifteen minute documentary.After arriving there,on the first day,we had lunch in this absolute mess of a place called Arya Bhavan.Their dosas were floating in oil,and the sambaar tasted like ink.(That's right,I've tasted ink!)Their chilli parota,I'm sure,as delicious as it was,could seriously block a few arteries if you ate it for lunch for a month.

We set out to the Tamil Nadu Science Federation after that,to meet our resource-people.They gave us a broad outline of the topics we could focus on,which were like the usual beats in an newsroom-education,environment and health.My group chose child labour and education.Some rather enthusiastic people even insisted on climbing the Yelagri hills,which were being battered by Thor and Co to see the tribals.I tried to keep a straight face.Yep,I even teased my friend Krash about it.What did they expect?Face-painted,spear-toting,humba-humba chanting blokes who sang and danced around the bonfire and worshipped bottles of country liquor?

So much for not exoticising the marginalized.I gave up.As did my Professor.

In the evening,Krash and 2 other friends- RK and AP went to a delightful place called Chinatown opposite the famous Christian Medical College a.k.a CMC.Then we decided we'd find a bar nearby.There was a good one in a hotel nearby and as RK said,it was "hardly shady".I couldn't suppress a giggle when he said that.It was like a cave and new Tamil songs were playing on overhead TV sets,the lurid colours lighting up the place in flashes.

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Day 2 was desperately and hopelessly pathetic.We started nearly 45 minutes behind schedule.We tromped around two villages,looking at special child labour schools which make sure kids are weaned off their jobs and slowly integrated into mainstream schools eventually.

We skipped lunch because our resource-person was magnificently resourceful and did not expect that the only hotel in the village would be shut.We couldnt go back to town,whcih was a good 20 km away,as we had more work in the village.So we had bread and potato fritters for lunch.I ate half a loaf that was begging for some cheese as company.But I was told very sarcastically that cheese was a luxury item.

I know.No harm in trying for it though,right?:-)

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Day 3 was manna from heaven.It set into motion a frenzy of activity that resulted in all of us shooting a formidable 4 tapes (roughly 240 minutes of footage) within the next 48 hours.I'm not even attempting to explain exactly how we did that.
All we did is go back to the villages and shoot all that we had simply gaped at the previous day.In the pouring rain.

We even followed a kid called Faizana(oh yes,name changed to protect identity)who led us to the dirtiest village river I've ever seen.The banks were strewn with multicoloured plastic bags.Looked like a giant confetti can had exploded over it.The water was a murky,opaque brownish grey and Faizana walked barefoot through the path to the bank.We walked with our expensive running shoes firmly ensconcing themselves in the five different types of shit that were on the way.

Our brave cameraman Saru,in his state of dedicated focusing and defocusing("broadcast language is so showy,humph"),even sat on some shit.No idea what kind.But I was benevolent enough to make it known to the entire lodge in the evening that he had shit on his backside which wasn't even his own.Some laughed,their eyes catching the dim light.Some grimaced.Some chortled till their eyes disappeared.

And lunch?Oh,it was orgasmic.Earth shattering.Lovely,scrumplicious South Indian meals for 15 bucks!One rupee extra for extra appalams (paapads).I was the first to finish everything on my banana leaf.

Then we headed to a one of many leather factories in Ambur,which my Professor called "f*cking fortresses" in her shrill voice.Twice.A few winced.I agreed,because,by the time Saru tried to get shots of any one process in the factory,the tour escort would come and whisk him away.But Saru is like a wall.You can pound and scream,but he won't budge.And he didn't.

The same leather factory owner also talked to his shoe factory owning relative and got us in there.But we couldn't take the camera.So,we had to make do with still cameras.My friend,Niv managed to shoot a small video on that before we were whisked away unceremoniously once again.

On a more serious note,these visits revealed a lot.In the tanning factory,some guys who treated the leather with acid were standing absolutely barefoot while a sign "Caution:Enter with footwear" shone overhead.And nearly all the workers in the shoe factory were women,some of whom have to stand for hours at a stretch.We couldn't even talk to those who looked underage.

Next,we went to more villages in the vicinity.In one place,there was a house where there were children sitting and stitching "uppers" for shoes openly under a thatched roof in the terrace.Oho yeah,field day for us with the camera.We did some interviews and took shots.That is,before the owner of the house realized we were potential mischief- makers and told us to unplug the microphone from the camera.But all cameras have inbuilt mics yaar.:-)

Now,the day was fruitful.My professor even said "You're human,R.You're a good person".The previous day I was behaving like what they call a typical "broadcaster", pushing everyone and telling them we could do without food for a day,and nagging them, and driving everyone,including myself,crazy.So,when she said this,I smiled.
I'm human all right.And very weak.

The one sore point of the day was our resourceperson.The man brushed past my rear during lunch ,while heading to the handwash,which I dismissed as a possible mistake.
But then he insisted on coming in front of the camera when we shot in the factory,and tried to grasp some girl's arm or the other,under the pretext of getting into the van,or saying we're late.I kept running from him.Didn't make a fuss.I think I should have.I told A about it and he was very clear that if people like us didn't speak out,these morons wouldn't learn.

He was right.

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Day 4-we called up a contact another one of our professors had told us about.The gentleman was really sweet and showed us around another school for child labourers.It had a Muslim majority and the kids talked to us in Hindi,much to the delight of my teammates,many of whom found they didn't need me to translate their queries for once.The anklebiters called me "aunty" and I said,nah,akka(elder sister) please.They made us write our names in their notebooks and yelled goodbye into the camera very spiritedly when my pal Meen asked them to.And then,when we got ready to leave,we were asked the question that always leaves me stumped: "You will come back tomorrow?"

I could only stand there,my mouth moving wordlessly.I cannot believe we are using children to sell a story.Such is the nature of what we do,say my professors.

The rest of the day was spent in talking to the "official" chaps who work on the child labour elimination project.They were real darlings.

Went for drinks again.Before dinner this time.It was just me and three of the guys.I wasn't exactly tipsy but RK insisted on cracking jokes in Malayalam that I couldn't help giggling at.He even solemnly told me while leaving the restaurant "R,this is the first step,this is the second.Can you see?" And while I giggled some more and raved to them about how I was grossly misunderstood and a lon(s)er,RK made two very accurate observations.One,I wasn't drunk,but just needed an excuse to talk.And two,that I seemed uncomfortable around and allergic to people.

I was startled.I tried defending myself,but it was pointless.Because RK said what he did based on instinct,not just reason.I knew that.

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Day 5 involved getting up at 12pm and sitting around,watching every movie that had been denied to us by the idiots who had implemented the set top box fiasco in Chennai.

At midnight we gave my friend Niv a surprise birthday bash,and woke up all the other guests in the lodge.Irate and groggy,they dialled the manager's number.We were told to shut up.But the cake was just going around,and the chips hadn't even been opened yet.After another four warnings,we went back to our rooms,a bunch of blubbering postgraduate journalism students in pyjamas and faded T-shirts.

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On day 6,we were ready to leave.We had wrapped up a day earlier than expected.

But the plan was to visit the Vellore fort first.And it was beautiful.The moat was filled and a lazy sparkling granite grey,with green grassy banks.We went to the Jalakantheshwarar temple inside.

I wanted an archanai(Offering.Don't know how else you explain in English.)
For love.For idealism.For hope.For family and friends.
The Lord takes many forms and graces our empty lives.For Him.

The church and mosque in the fort were, unfortunately, closed.We headed back to the lodge,but not before my Professor treated us to gulab-jamuns.:-)
There is still idealism left in this world.In the most unlikely places.

The return journey was blissful.Just miles of grey highway and the azure sky,which turned a deep dark blue when Chennai loomed ahead.

And thus ended what my college touts as its unique feature-a deprivation trip.

I discovered a lot.I learnt a lot.I came back with a smile and a picture of Lord Jalakanteshwarar for Ma.

My slum report

Warning:This was an academic exercise I am posting just to read any time I run out of sleeping pills, and is highly context specific.Therefore,if you have no interest in the words "slum" or "report" or/and are not a Leftist(I admit I am not one),then you will find yourself highly somnolent after paragraph two.
If you're still awake,you must be related to my Left-"leaning" professors or must really like the way I write in journo-officialese i.e the language confused journalism students use to write errm..."reports" :-) .

And no,I do not have any pictures.Not soft copies atleast.






A slum is the dwelling place of the urban poor,and slum dwellers are often described as “squatters”,” and “encroachers”.Slums are stereotyped as unhygienic and “illegal” settlements which breed criminality and detract from the beauty of a city.
Usha Ramanathan,in the Economic and Political Weekly(July 2005),however,defined them as “service providers who keep urban inhabitants in home,health and happiness” and “migrant workers who build up cities for those who can afford to buy what they build” and whose labour is recognised but whose need for residence is simply ignored.
This is despite the fact that they constitute nearly 30 percent of almost any city’s population.

Another misconception about slums is that people who have built cement houses or have access to power or water supply,are in fact not “poor” but belong to the middle-class .But according to Purnima Arun, a teacher who works in slums, any one whose family cannot function if one earning member falls ill for a week or more ,is poor. “If they can be pushed to poverty,and have no savings to fall back on,they are poor”,she elaborated.

About the slum studied:

The Bharatiyar Nagar settlement is located at Bugari third stage,off Canal Road near Neelankarai,Chennai.The estimated number of families here is between 1000 and 1200.

The Neelankarai Panchayat leader,Mr.Ettiappan of the Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam(DMK) is in charge of the area.Since it is outside city limits and does not come under the purview of the Chennai Corporation, civic facilities are the Panchayat’s responsibility.

Except for two streets among the 17 streets of Bharatiyar Nagar,the rest are entirely kuccha roads. One small bylane had been cemented,but incessant garbage dumping and the recent rains have reduced it to a heap of rubble.

The fourth and fifth cross streets have been made pucca by the residents themselves,by collecting the required sum and ensuring that a rough gutter was built at the side to divert waste water.

There are streetlights on the main road leading into Bharatiyar Nagar.However,they are absent in several places inside.The main road itself is littered largely with rubbish on the sides and one particular low-lying stretch gets inundated if it rains for an hour.Due to lack of underground drainage,residents are forced to use septic tanks.Those cannot afford to possess and maintain these, use gutters outside their homes.

All those living here are aware that they are living on low-lying land with no patta-which is like contract of ownership given by the government. Many have been here for 12 to 20 years and migrated originally from districts north of Chennai.There are people of varied religious denominations here.

Livelihood , living and income-related data:

Most families in the slum are dual-income families atleast.The monthly income ranges from Rs.2000 to Rs.5000.The men are mostly construction labourers who shift jobs or work as coolies or painters in the nearby markets or industries.Women work as domestic helpers,cleaners,maids,or even as tailors in small companies.

Reena Murali,the wife of an auto-driver,does not work..Their family of four is sustained by Rs.4000. “Once my two-year old son goes to school”,she said, “ I will look for a job.” Meanwhile,her husband has bought his own auto,for which he has obtained a loan of nearly 2 lakhs from a “Seth” in Mandaveli.Reena did admit that repaying the loan will be their first priority.

Maheshwari Balasubramanian is a house-maid with three children.She proudly displayed a new toilet that she constructed and added “The streets were public toilets earlier.We had no real ones.Now we have a septic tank that the Panchayat cleans up at regular intervals”.Her husband is a site supervisor for Tamil Nadu Housing Board and he told us that the land they are staying in belongs to the Army.

Health and facilities available:

The absence of public toilets was a significant problem .However,now out of some 500 brick houses,only a handful do not have toilets.

Drinking water has also become a problem.Metrowater supplies water every alternate day,but residents feel that after the Tsunami the quality of the water has changed.
“We buy water cans because we can afford it.I don’t know about the others”,Tulasi Kanniappan observed.

Also,drain water and monsoon water stagnate and serve as a breeding place for mosquitoes. Kalamani,whose husband Ilango is an opposition leader in the Panchayat blamed the authorities for this squarely. “Our leader Ettiappan says that if you are a slum dweller,you cannot expect better facilities.They should atleast spray some mosquito medicine.It has become impossible to step out of the house after 5 pm.”

Hyrul of Kasturba Gandhi Medical Hospital agreed-“I am a nurse and so I buy bleaching powder for the drain near my house.I still try my best to make these people aware.” Hyrul also administers first aid and emergency help to those in the area.She co-ordinates with the Assistant Nurses sent from the Government to perform routine health checkups.

Before the Injambakkam government hospital became functional a few months back,people here had to go either to Royapettah or to Thiruvanmiyur government hospitals.The irony is that there is a medical shop in the area,but no affordable doctor in the vicinity.M.Kartik,the only one in the area who is pursuing an Engineering course, regrets that there is only a private hospital close by called Shanthi Hospital which is “very expensive” for people with uncertain incomes.

Sophia,a non-governmental organisation(NGO) worker from DESH(Deepam Educational Society for Health) has created much awareness regarding health problems in the area.She originally conducted HIV related campaigns in the area,but in 2002 was assigned the task of starting Self Help Groups for women in South Chennai.

These SHGs or magalir kuzhus are actively involved in making women aware of health problems,affordable treatment and post-natal childcare. “Women who were delivering babies at home without medication and facing unsterilized instruments now understand the significance of basic medical facilities.So,we direct them to the Primary Health Centre in Neelankarai or Voluntary Health Service Hospital in Thorapakkam”,she said, when contacted.

It is due to these SHGs that more women and children attend immunization camps for tuberculosis,filaria and polio.Awareness about problems like osteoporosis ,Reproductive Tract Infection(RTI) and Sexually Transmitted Diseases(STDs)has increased,and due to routine checkups by a mobile health clinic,women are directed to government hospitals for surgical procedures like hysterectomies.

Women’s Issues:

The evolution of the SHGs in Bharatiyar Nagar has ensured that women contribute economically to their homes by learning, working and saving.Sophia from DESH and Dhanalakshmi from Annai Theresa are NGO workers whose efforts have paid off despite initial protests from the men.

The SHGs under Sophia contain a minimum of 20 women are there are eight such groups in Bharatiyar Nagar.The central idea is financial self-sufficiency and the aim is cumulative growth in savings.Women in these groups contribute Rs.100 a month which is deposited in a bank account in a nationalised bank in Adyar.Sophia is also involved in teaching these women,most of whom have just primary education on none at all,how to handle passbooks and transactions.Ambika Srinivasan,a SHG member is happy to acknowledge that they can now access a loan of Rs.80,000 with simply 0.75 percent interest on the strength of their savings.She is a tailor at an exports company but is sure that she can put her daughter through an architecture- diploma college.

These women are also very aware and articulate about problems.Ambika is unhappy that there is no ration shop nearby except at Neelankarai where there is often shortage of stock.The recent rains and resulting malaria and typhoid have exposed the need for a proper drainage system.M.Shanthi is indignant- “Why did they not divert the water to the Cooum like they promised?Now,our area along with the nearby slums in Rajendirar Nagar are inundated.We will ensure this does not happen again.”

Education:

There is a Government Hospital in Vetuvankanni with classes upto fifth standard.
Sasi,a class 10 student of St.Joseph’s school-also situated nearby, said that they are given mid-day meals and that she pays Rs.1500 per year.Her school has upto Class 12 for girls and class 10 for boys.

Durga Kanniappan ,her schoolmate and neighbour is unsure about studying beyond class 12.She felt that if she found a job soon,she would contribute to her five member family’s income.

Most of the youth have better access to education than their parents.Both daughters of T.V Sekar,an ex-official of the Panchayat Ward,for instance, are postgraduates.

Political affiliations and rain relief:

Political awareness in the area is slowly growing.While the womens SHGs are planning to choose a candidate for the next ward elections,the area is clearly demarcated based on supporters of Ettiappan and his detractors.This difference is more pronounced after the residents failed to received the rain relief grant of Rs.2000 and 10 kilos of rice as the Government had promised.

Ganesh,a driver blames the local leaders for letting the residents bear the brunt of their squabbles.He felt that since Ettiappan was not on good terms with the ruling party,the AIADMK,he had ignored their demands for relief. “He did not even come to see us once”,argued Sekhar,a mechanic.But Ettiappan remained unavailable for comment.

Conclusion:

While the recent rains have only exacerbated the lack of drainage and infrastructure, in the area, the more crucial problem here is that of people ignored by their leaders.

Some AIADMK supporters were quick to point out that M.C Munnusamy,Ettiappan’s main rival and opposition leader was able to co-ordinate better with his counterparts in the State Government.They claimed that Munnusamy provided drinking water thrice during the rains for free.The residents are fully aware that this will also affect their vote in the ward elections to be held next year.But they are certain that they will vote only for the leader who stands by them when they need him.

Another long-term question for these slum dwellers is of earning a stable livelihood and saving enough. Though they are not in danger of being evicted anytime soon , their effort at self improvement will need stronger support from their leaders.Till then, they will remain pawns of political tussles.

Swamped by problems

One of my assignments involved the Pallikaranai Swamp.Here is the piece.It is important to me and I intend to follow up on it.


The Pallikaranai Swamp along the old Mahabalipuram road has always served as the city’s stormwater drain and as a mini-ecosystem supporting over 106 kinds of migratory and wetland birds.However,over the years,its size has shrunk from 40 sq km to four square kilometres.The marsh has served as a landfill for solid waste and sewage and part of it has also been used by Chennai Metropolitan Development Authority(CMDA) for housing,and for building a Government hospital,colleges, and the Mass Rapid Transit System(MRTS) .

(Photo taken from Frontline magazine)

According to Mr.Ramkumar,an advocate working with Exnora,the two main issues concerning residents and others like the Save the Pallikaranai Marsh Forum(SPMF)are the unscrupulous garbage dumping and the destruction of the water ecosystem.Mr.Ramkumar said that under the pretext of reclaiming the marsh,the National Institute of Ocean Technology had been allowed to construct its building right in the middle of the wetland.

Exnora has been propagating a system of waste management that would tackle both the volume and nature of garbage.It is suggesting the use of composting and recycling,both of which can reduce reduce the volume of garbage to only 10% of the original volume.Mr.Ramkumar explains that since roughly 50 percent of the city’s garbage is organic it can be composted and the inorganic waste can be recycled.

Even composting,he said,can be done at the family level or at the community level- “You can compost garbage in plastic buckets at home.Or, a few families can employ a person to do it.Only 25 percent will remain,which you can add as fertilizer to the topsoil”.He adds that it is essential to develop a market for various recyclable items.This could reduce the city’s solid waste output from 5500 tonnes to merely 250 tonnes.

The SPMF,on the other hand feels that the encroachment of the marsh will affect its biordiversity as it is the breeding place for wetland birds.Mr.Murugavel of the SPMF pointed out that birds are hunted down indiscriminately using ‘spray bullets’ that contain metal ions to stun them en masse.

The SPMF also voices the concerns of citizens living nearby.Many people have respiratory diseases due to garbage burning.Similarly, discharge of industrial effluents has caused an increase in the levels of lead,chromium and mercury in the water table.

Due to the efforts government organizations and fora like Care Earth,SPMF and Sustain the Government is finally “taking interest now” in declaring Pallikaranai a protected area,Mr Murugavel said.

However,the SPMF still plans to conduct a ‘Satyagraha’,involving fasting,on October 2nd.Their goals are to ensure that the marsh soon be declared a protected area under the Tamil Nadu Forest Act (1882) and Wildlife protection act (1972),to prevent dumping or burning of garbage,and to ban building construction in the marsh.

However,if the Government does not do so quickly,and if the remaining part of this natural flood barrier is destroyed,the whole of the adjacent area of Velachery could be flooded.This will not only mark the end of an ecosystem but will leave the city bereft of a storm drain and the residents of the area swamped by new problems.

Observation piece

My Professor who took the Language and Style classes asked us to write an observation piece.It has been returned to me,and I think he marked me pretty okay since his comment was "very nice". :)

The dark, betel- juice stained, narrow stairway leading to the flat actually had vivid electric blue walls that were hidden by the lack of more than one zero-watt bulb on one floor.Even summer daylight did not seem to touch them.

The house on the second floor had a disproportionate “K” written in white paint on a black circle near the doorbell.The door which was usually a dull white was open,and revealed pale blue walls within.A dull beam of light from the balcony near the door rested near on the right temple of a man lying in the middle of the hall.At that exact moment, a series of splitting wails from a plump woman sitting by him drowned out the horns of impatient buses on the street.

Her partially silver hair was loose,and she hit her chest rhythmically,blowing her nose on the red border of her saree at intervals.A lopsided reflection of her on the television screen nearby faded slowly as the sky was overcast.There was no sign of blue anywhere for a moment,until the clouds passed.

An old man in an immaculate white dhoti with many warts near the hollow of his eyes
went to a dresser.He pulled out a bottle,vigorously shook the pale yellow liquid and
sprayed it,his nose crinkling.The strong scent of airplane tissues swam around the room.

The dead man seemed around sixty,his hair grey and sparse at the temples.His nostrils were stuffed with wads of cotton and the bandage binding his big toes was fast wearing out. A young girl of about thirteen sat near him,her face smudged with tears.She rested her head on the still chest occasionally and closed her big brown eyes.But everytime she lifted her head,her eyes would be flooded again.

The number of hushed voices and dusty bare feet increased slowly.The sky faded to the same colour as the wall and the odour of death overcame the reek of the eau de cologne.But the girl did not move.


(Note:No guesses as to the protagonists of the piece.And though it looks incomplete,we had to work on a word limit,and plus the point was not to write a novel.)

Women and public space

Here is an assignment I wrote.I had written a very acerbic and unconstructive critique titled 'Why men are pigs' prior to this.But I found that thinking for a while actually helped me in putting my point across.

A few days back,I was travelling by a city bus that was splitting at its seams.Everyone knows it can be very suffocating and painful to remain standing in such a situation,while being sandwiched between the lady whose hair is laden with jasmine and the ubiquitous man who reeks of beedis. Most of us get used to it.

But what I can never get used to is the occasional male who insists on using the crowd to add to your discomfort.He stares, breathes down your neck, or pretends that his hand has no place to rest except a vulnerable part of your anatomy.Both your body and your perception of public space are altered.

Perhaps the most vexing experience I’ve had is on a cold night a few years back during a school trip in Hyderabad.Three of us were walking towards our bus, when three men started following us.Panicking,we started walking faster and then broke into a run.But then, overwhelmed by a mixture of mad rage and helplessness, I turned back and yelled at them,using the choicest profanities I knew.They stopped and faded into the nearby shops.But, my sense of security was eroded.

Women everywhere are forced to accept the violation of the little security that public places provide us, since any recourse by law is tedious.We are routinely leched at, touched inappropriately and then are trained to accept it as normal behaviour.We lobby to be given the right to work night shifts in factories,but forget that the right to safety may not accompany it.

Any attempt to walk on the roads with the simple identity of being just a human being is futile .Most of us grow up actually feeling grateful that we have not faced more than the “usual” or “acceptable” amount of harassment.We never stop to examine what this means and who defined its parameters.

What is worse is that,universities are now setting dress codes to condone popular perception of women.In public consciousness,there will then always exist a clear division between the vamp and the virgin,the woman who can be whistled at because she is 'inappropriately attired', and the woman who will be whistled at even if she is 'acceptably dressed'.

But the irony is that neither category(if you can divide women so rigidly at all) can walk on the road as just another person.The identity of being a woman will always remain. And,not as a positive one.

Chennai speaks!

Here are some pictures(Sid and) I took.Life in Chennai as a journo student..man is it craazy!And,no comments on how you find my pics.Kidding.No comments on both our pics.:)



The books are from a bookseller who claimed that he had paid 10K to get out of a court case for pirating Harry Potter 6.




The lady is the middle sister in a family of three ladies,each of whom was named by their mother after Tamil film actresses of the 60's and 70's!



This picture was taken by Sid.Good ol' Ranganathan street literally has NO breathing space.Sid actually climbed atop the police booth and took this one.



The vivid red can either make your salivate or throw up..you choose!



It doesn't look like it..but this man stopped and posed for us.





This picture needs no explanation!The cute boy speaks for himself!

Of agrahaarams and my frog prince

What is all the fuss about indigenous Brahmin settlements,namely agrahaaram(s) disappearing ?

After that tiring spate of exams I caught myself enjoying Bhagyaraj's Idhu Namma Aalu,and wondering what kind of man would elicit a promise from his son-in-law forbidding him from "touching" his nubile wife?

I really enjoyed the oft-repeated ellam manidhargalum samam message.It seemed even more prounounced as I realized that my own family(not immediate,but extended) would never understand the importance of..err..."being earnest".

I really wonder how my nosy father's myriad uncles and co will react if I get married out of my caste. I get such cheap thrills out of imagining their vehement faces and their fired up patriarchal egos,their mumblings and mutterings and inability to say anything directly to me or dad.Wow..I am amazed at the number of cold war versus open ridicule scenarios I can conjure up.

Just as I was cherishing this very interesting thought,I started singing some old Hindi numbers and went to do some laundry..And lo,we have a small green fella with a supine look hiding behind the detergent box.Wowie..a frog of my own?
If I kiss him,will he become a raajkumar?But in case he doesn't..won't that be a perfectly good first(yeah that's right..first) kiss gone waste?

So I said what the heck,I might as well sing for him.So I stood there wailing Hai re hai,neend nahi aaye... at the top of my voice(pining for my mard(man)...which is what they say in aamchi Mumbai).Turns out he wasn't a big fan of tha musik.He leapt up as if to say,shut up bitch,and hid behind another box.So,now I was very piqued.Hamne mehfil jamaya aur koi beech mein utthkar jaaye?(Rough translation:How can you leave in the middle of my musical effusions?)So,I got a take-out food box and decided to trap him in that and MAKE him listen to me.

Then,I found myself,dabba in hand,prodding him,gently trying to coax him into jumping into it,only to have him jump at me instead.I leaped up in dismay with a ear-splitting "aiyoooo" and banged against the tap behind me which splurged open instantly wetting my backside and my clean jeans.

Great.No prince,no connoisseur,just a wet bum.This is what happens when exams are over and one has nothing to do.

Anyway,luckily for me,that day ma's pal Guru had come over(eligible ladies:he's looking!) and after hearing my repeated rantings on how even a frog had turned me down,he rolled his eyes,grabbed a broom and a dustpan and shooed the little fella into the box.Finally!

So dripping wet and all,I sang all the way as we took him to the garden and dumped him near the bushes.He looked relieved and took off in the opposite direction.I contemplated following but then,....I could smell palak paneer.

Later on, I decided to call my vehement froggie fella kammnaati.Manorama uses that term in Samsaaram Oru Minsaaram where she wittily says "Come na come,come naati(kammanaati) GOO!"

Sorry da froggie ..for having disturbed your nap.But someday...oru naal..we will meet again.And I will win you over too.With or without a kiss.

Got my DL!!!!!

After a gruelling wait of nearly a month and sustained back ache I got my DRIVER'S LICENCE!Man,it was a long wait.I was so bloody sick last week with my back,I couldn't move.Landed up missing college the whole week.

So, on DL-Day,I get up real early(read:7 am),get dressed in conservative clothes.This test is not based on best eye candy,yaar.So,I'm off in the chugging white Maruti 800.Is this the test car that the Driving Institute has sent?Crap,will it go above 40 kmph or what?The driver shakes his head.Ma'am(he says that really smooth,like an angrez),not necessary to cross that speed even in fourth gear?ENNA?(What?)He tells me I should "show" all the gears to the official.Stifling a giggle.Before leaving,ma gets glucose biscuits and mango juice(even though I said no,thanks.)

Have to go to the Institute first.Dingy office.Sophie the receptionist with her "butler English" tells me to meet the owner.Gosh,I hate that creep.Don't get nervous he says.It's all luck and the RTO(Regional Transport Officer) guy's mood.As long as the car doesn't stop and you don't smash into a tree it's okay.Sure,it's okay for you el creepo.

Ma's car I had tried last night and it stopped 7 times!I nearly cried the last time,and so did she except she said you dumkoff why demoralize yourself by driving this 19 year old Maruti Suzuki.Point noted,ma'am.

Went to the place where they take the test next.Race Course Road.Made a few friends due to my incessant banter.First,Mrs.Deivanai(whose husband is in Sharjah and she's leaving soon), then Mary who works in a bank,Mrs Jancy who was thoroughly amused by me humourous observations and finally Poorni who turned up sensibly in a sleeveless kurta.She'd flunked before for switching from the second to the fourth gear.One Mr.Sandalwood paste on his forehead and Lime Green T-Shirt clad round guy turned up too.They took their test in Mr.sandalwood's red maruti 800 which looked like "chandu pottu" colour.All from the same driving school.But there were other driving school people and even private candidates.I saw atleast six schools with Godly names like Vinayakar,Ganesha,Devi, and some other weird ones like True Wish and Excellent Drving school.Gosh!

Waited for 2 hours!Man,got fried,then flipped then fried again.Never going to have eggs again!Then the RTO guys show up and some other driving institute people got ahead of us in the line.Poorni came last and the RTO guy refused to sign her papers.Only 30 people are allowed to take the test everyday.

Nevertheless all my pals being from the same driving school,we boarded 2 cars-an ambassador and the maruti for the test.Some 9 of us.The white maruti(for the test)went ahead,the rest of us followed in the ambi,and between us was the red maruti 800.The official tests all the people from one driving school together.We drive for say 3 minutes and then the next person takes his/her chance.Since we were many(mostly women),3 boarded the maruti first and the rest of us followed in the ambi.None of us wanted an ambi for the test.

The first three were doctor women who took their test first.One babe flunked.Car went off the road.Then we got in.Poorni hoped this guy would give her a chance.She too couldn't bunk college for a retrial.

Mrs Deivanai went and drove well.Only thing is she parked the car some four feet away from the tree.Our frantic driver cum instructor beckoned to me.Only I can swerve enough to take the car back on the right.Was flattered.So took the car out and drove.Was amazed at my own fearlessness.Used all four gears by 40kmph.Then the RTO guy tells me to "lessen the gear".Yeah why not.

Thrilled at the finish!Whew!Next is Jancy.Her mallu accent is damn cute.But her driving is not.The car stops three times!She's at this junction,and doesn't know how to restart it, and tries to start in first gear.It lurches ahead.The driver is muttering and sweating.Then worse still,it starts to head backwards towards the ambi.She doesn't apply the brakes.The official is petrified.Applies the brakes(It's a two way brake and clutch vehicle).Still doesn't start.He asks her to get out.

Now three of us who've finished run back to the ambi and Mary and Poorni board the maruti.Everyone finishes.Poorni gets another chance at her test.We come to know that Jancy has flunked.Her voice gets all choked and she wonders what went wrong.Decides to go home and come back next week.Poor thing.So Mrs.Deivanai and I have got through.We are to go to the RTO office first.The rest will follow.We have glucose biscuits and juice to celebrate.

It's mid afternoon and the RTO wears a deserted look.Everyone's eating.I call up the driver to ask if the rest are coming and he says your ma's getting lunch.Hai Raam..ma's solicitousness really makes me wild and grateful all at once.Hot chappatis and kurma.God bless her!Deivanai eats sparingly.Maybe she's too polite or maybe she hates North Indian food.

Then they all come.The driver says he's going,please find your own way home.In other words,nice knowing your sorry asses, and now that you're getting the licence,astalavista.Not so soon smartie.Tell Sophie to send us a car after we finish.He shrugs non-committally.

Next is photo taking,signing the licence and lamination.My initial comes before my name.Damn,I hate that!I know it's called an initial but I think my name is more important.Plus,my address is misspelt.Anyway,this is India,baby, and the licence is cool.The 3D logo of the State has a maruti on it.Wowie!

Parting time.Got everyone's cell numbers.Almost walked halfway to the busstand when Mary caught me walking.We both live nearby,so she and I caught a rick back home.I overpaid,but it was totally worth it!

Came home and collapsed.Heard some Beethoven.Oh joyful joyful I adore thee,God of Gears and Lord of Licences.Long Live!