Deep Ties

It was like out of a scary movie plot. The cream coloured Bolero weaving into the toll plaza, was stopped by the young toll attendant and suddenly a gunshot ended it all. Twenty-two-year-old Umesh Kant Pandey would have never imagined that September 23, would be his last day, as he flagged down the vehicle of an intoxicated Vijay Veer Yadav. The place was Khekri Daula toll plaza, Gurgaon; the time an unearthly 12.30 am. When Umesh asked the Bolero driver to pay the toll tax, a paltry Rs 27, the latter whipped out his driving licence to prove that he was a resident of a nearby village, and hence, exempt from toll charges. Umesh waved him on, and closed the little window, only to find that the vehicle had not moved. When he opened the window to check, there was an altercation and Vijay Veer shot him on his neck. The CCTV cameras caught the whole event, and television viewers watched in shock as the murder was played out again and again, of the hapless young toll attendant clasping his ne...

An old adage talks about the saddest sight in life being a puppy with its tail tucked between its legs. And if the said puppy is seen snuffling its way through a giant garbage heap on the street, the sight is sadder still! Amazingly, a perfectly good, empty garbage can stands desolately on the side, hiding its face in sheer neglect. Most of our cities are huge garbage cans, with every honest citizen putting in his pennyworth of rubbish in an act of charity. In this case, charity doesn’t begin at home, but on the road in front of one’s home! Sadly education touches on every aspect in pedagogy, needed and otherwise, but fails in teaching students the basic aspects of hygiene. If every parent pointed their child towards the wastepaper basket, and the larger dustbins, within their homes and beyond, these same children would take care not to throw chewing gum wrappers, biscuit covers and plastic packets on the road. And we would not see the housekeeping staff of major IT companies picking ...

There is a little creature in most homes who winds herself around your heart, with a winsome smile and makes your knees go wobbly with the power of her charm. She gambols around like a puppy, eyes filled with mischief, and deep secrets yet to be explored. Her hair flies about in wild disarray, her lanky limbs move with coltish grace. She is a piece of your heart; when around, she tries your patience to the maximum, but the moment she goes out anywhere, you miss her desperately. She is as elusive as the pot at the end of the rainbow, and infinitely more precious. She is the girl child. However, the girl child is still looked upon as a burden, a curse, a commodity with a limited guarantee, even in this enlightened age. The delivery date is awaited with great trepidation. The parents-in-law hover over the hapless girl, vultures waiting to swoop in case she commits the grievous sin of delivering a daughter. The husband is all set to prove his manhood, and god save his wife if she proves hi...

So what do you feel about the election results?” my husband jocularly asked our cheerful maid, who goes by the romantic name of Vennila, which means moonlight. She often jokes about her name: “My mother gave me this name, little realising that I would be so dark complexioned!” She smiled at my husband’s query, and replied: “What difference does it make to us, sir?” What followed was a revelation to us. “I wish we could pour out our woes before Amma. Nothing trickles down to our level anyway. You go to the government hospital for free treatment, and there you find a huge hundi, where you are expected to put money even before the treatment begins.” Vennila works in a number of houses, and she is a willing worker who puts her heart into her work. My house shines like a new pin, and lights up with her beaming smile, even when she is in the doldrums. She has two daughters, one of whom has just finished her engineering, and the other doing her graduation. She claims no credit for the achieve...

After a euphoric trip, I sipped at my cup of tea, reminiscing over the days spent in England, when a thought struck me. Every spot of national interest or tourist importance had an entrance fee that went towards its maintenance. This fee, albeit hefty, was used prudently. While it ensured the place was all prettied up, it also kept casual loungers and the frankly disinterested away! Student concessions were also offered. In many places, we saw artists with their sketchbooks or easels, frowning in concentration. What impressed us most was the fact that everywhere, special ramps had been created for the differently-abled, over which they could roll their wheelchairs. Consequently they could go everywhere on their own, without having to face the embarrassment of being turned away. This is not the case in India. I recall reading an article titled ‘Are Public Places made to Suit the Needs of the Physically Challenged?’. Not really, I would retort. Builders turn a blind eye to making structu...

I had heard of a couple of shoppers’ paradises in Purasawalkam. My sisters and I needed to buy some steel plates and so in we trotted into one of the biggest stores which boasts of branches all over Chennai. The crowds were daunting, which only proved that the sales were skyrocketing. What put us off totally was the attitude of the salespeople within, who had most certainly made a habit of getting out of the wrong side of their beds! They wallowed in their misery, not a smile or polite remark cracking their grumpy exteriors. When we asked for the plate section, we were pointed towards an even grumpier soul. Miles and miles of plates littered the area, but not the kind we were looking for, mom being rather particular about her choices. Meanwhile I had bought something small, and I made my way out to call up Mom to ask if we could pick up some other plates. Cell phones have a nasty habit of switching off at inopportune moments, much like the staff within the store, and even as I made my...

God created the art of questioning to make people enquire and acquire knowledge, to go ahead in life, all cylinders firing. Today, questions have evolved into tiny pinpricks that fester when constantly touched! Fasten your seat belts, for here are some embarrassing questions people love to ask... At large gatherings, a delicious lime-mint cooler in hand, you turn to hear an omniscient voice, “Do you know me?” You gawk at the large lady/ old uncle, as the words stick to your roof of your mouth. You hem and haw, and finally nod in affirmation. The next question blows you away! “Then tell me who I am!” Man, if you don’t know who you are, how on earth do you expect me to know? Go see a memory analyst! However, that response never comes out at the opportune moment! “You have put on weight, haven’t you?” There is no right answer for that, ever! Your daughter turns eighteen, and the chorus begins. “Aren’t you looking out for a good boy for her?” No, I am waiting for a Martian to come down t...