Most Lacking sense: No not common: Civic !

1.30 AM in the thick of night. As I am a light sleeper, was struggling to keep the mind quiet to get into slumber. And the mobile rang. Blurted out ringtone assigned for hospitals. Admission! Got out of the bed sleepily, rode the car, by the time I reached the hospital I was fully awake. Middle-aged female in around late 30s to early 40s had come with fever of 102 *F, not really warranting to get admitted at that unearthly hours. But darkness is such an entity that many get anxious and run to the hospitals even for the minor ailments. So that was understandable. After carefully examining her, got to know that it was a short febrile illness of only 6 to 8 hrs and so, maybe, did not have any definite clinical signs to clinch the diagnosis. As a normal routine, I asked for certain investigations, of course, to be done in the morning, to rule out frequent Mumbai maladies like Malaria, Dengue, Typhoid etc, prescribed her only antipyretics as it should be and left for home at around 2.30 AM. 

Next day while making the rounds, asked the sister/ nurse assisting, for the investigations, only the urgent ones like Malaria and Dengue, so as to chart out the further course of action, but to my surprise, they were not ready. The reason being, the patient refused to get them done. I, most of the time lose my cool in such situations but here, was successful in keeping calm. Simply asked the sister to send her home against medical advice.

When a patient is admitted under a doctor to get treated he/she must have implicit faith in him/her, it's a mutual bond, a service contract. Breach in such a contract is simply not done. I had to give her piece of my mind, so very calmly I said to her,

" You might not be a school graduate even, but by refusing to go by my orders you are insulting me, a double post graduate in Medicine, who has put more than 45 years in the field to master the craft, toiled extremely hard to get through toughest exams,  and have been practising for more than 35 years as a consultant relentlessly, with the head always held high because I refused to go along with the current. I have worked as a professor of Medicine in a prestigious institute and so I don't want patients who are going to doubt the very fundamentals. You, you all, dole out whatever money a TV mechanic asks you for, though he is a 12th pass who has done some certificate course and has learnt on your TV. I too have to listen to my car mechanic who in the normal course of action does not have any official training in Automobile engineering but has learned the tricks of the trade by doing apprenticeship under a senior, similarly self-taught personnel! You better go home, before it becomes ugly.'

This incidence is the tip of the iceberg. My profession is dealing with such and more awkward situations day in and day out. My question is "Who is going to put sense in their heads and when ?"

And this is not restricted to my field alone. On roads, in public offices, in banks, in schools, even on airports what we Indians lack singularly, is civic sense. Our roads are littered beyond endurable limits, our public transport is simply abused beyond tolerance. Banks and government offices are overcrowded, clients just flocking around every table without any discipline whatsoever, so the officers are just, either plain lazy or simply incompetent but... but do not forget their arrogance. Roads are blocked with errant drivers zigzagging as if it is Formula 1 tract, Traffic courtesy, allowing the one to go first who is on the right side of the rules, is simply unheard of. Traffic signals are only for decoration and mental satisfaction, to override them is heroism perfected to the last 'T'. 

Right from day to day life to politics to education to transport We Indians are in such a hurry to break the rules that I don't understand why make them in the first place.

I feel like coining a slogan for morcha, ' Down with Civic sense! We don't have it, we don't require it !'

Bajirao Mastani continued

History, in my opinion, is totally irrelevant. What is relevant is the presence, because our future depends on how we shape it today. History does not teach us, any damn thing. I have seen many people committing the same mistake, including myself, again and again in personal life without learning from past experiences. And if it would have taught us anything on Global level, so many wars just wouldn't have been fought. 'History is always written by the victor' that's how the saying goes, yes, absolutely true but it conveniently omits the fact that the chronicler who writes it, is extremely biased. And the historian who studies it takes the cake away with interpreting it as his masters tell him to do! So far so good for the Maratha history too.

Bajirao was warrior par excellence. He won all the battles he fought in his short life span of 20 years as the warrior. But apart from his warrior side, how he was as a human being, as a son, as a husband, as a lover, there is a vast territory to explore. Any person whatever he may be, can not be the one, which we want him to be, 24 * 7. Thus it applies to Bajirao too. Many Marathi Historians have accepted, maybe grudgingly, Mastani's role in Bajirao's life, but wants him to be depicted only as a warrior, like Mr Jayant Salgaonkar who has totally blacked out Mastani from his book on Bajirao, while noted novelist, who wrote many many bestsellers, but very nicely written novels [Best sellers may not be necessarily good novels. ,Read Shobha De], based on history, Mr N S Inamdar, on whose novel 'Rau' Bajirao Mastani is loosely based, gives more credence to Mastani as Bajirao's lover whom he gave the status of the second wife. He too wrote it, after much deliberation going through the history meticulously. Whom to believe?  

The story after interval loses it's Marathi flavour and starts resembling any other love story from anywhere in the world. And I started losing interest. Call me parochial but that's the way it is. The grandeur is replaced by petty politicking, vacuous pride and blind faith in religion. All that Bajirao abhorred and stood against stoically. Again maybe, that was plus point for the script but laden with cliches, like an assault on Mastani and Kashibai saving her, Pune Brahmans refusing to share meals with Peshwa!

I feel Mr Bhansali has done justice to whatever was laid in front of him on most of the fronts, barring at places about Bajirao's characterization. There is a flood of information on Bajirao now. Taking in to account all that, it never seems possible, even probable that he would dance, a victory dance, in Salman fashion to the words, 'Waat Lavali' in a lingo definitely not used then, the lingo of Paral Lalbag lads in the 20th century. [ Taking too much of creative liberty ] It was superbly done by Mr Gowarikar for Akbar, going in a trance in Sufi recital, taking into consideration the dancing prowess of Hritik Roshan.[ Art with a market in mind]. Ranveer too flaws at many places failing to understand the nuances of Bajirao's persona. Yes, Bajirao used to consume alcohol and devour meat but his drunken stupor enacted by Ranveer nears today's drunken heroes, not with that grace of a warrior or befitting a Peshwa. 

True scene stealers are definitely Deepika and Priyanka. Priyanka excels because the role is tailor-made for any Indian heroine and we Indians always like the underdogs. Deepika as Mastani is an excellent choice. She radiates that beauty on many instances for which Mastani is/was known for. Not only she goes through the war scenes with ease, but she enacts love scenes with Bajirao or emotional ones with others with elan! Tanvi Azmi. Another excellent choice. With just a waive of hand on many occasions, she rejects the very presence of Mastani in Bajirao's life, is worth to watch for. Milind Soman as Amatya and Vaibhav Tatwawadi as Chimaji Appa too linger on your mind for long.

As expected 'Pinga' dance doesn't have anything objectionable. It's 'all women dance' performed on 'Haldi Kunku' ceremony. Womenfolk letting their hair loose on such occasions was a known thing and such functions were arranged for the very purpose, as the women then did not have any vent.     

All in all, as usual, I am confused. Yes, for a Bollywood it's a milestone. Going away from typical Punjabi ethos and for the first time bringing Maratha History to the fore, is definitely praiseworthy. Definitely, a well-mounted film with above-average to excellent performances, extremely soothing to the eyes photography, every frame is a picture postcard, and all the masala for average filmgoer and not so much a deviation from history or perverting the history to the hideous level for Marathis, it's definitely a film to watch at least once!

Bajirao Mastani

.... And I saw it. In Pune itself, but not where it was fiercely opposed, the citadel of Chitpawan Brahmans, Kothrud, but far away in non-Marathi Pune, Amanora. Brought up as Puneri Brahman, definitely not in a staunch fashion, I should have refrained myself from even nearing the cinema halls where it was exhibited. But the better sense instilled by that non-staunch part prevailed and I decided to join the brigade, either one, only after watching the movie. And here I am, not knowing which brigade to join!

Bored to the hilt after watching countless mundane Bollywood movies heralded by dozen or so, 'Punjab da Putters', here was one, off the track, having great potential to take the flag of Maratha pride beyond the seven seas, as for one taking immense pride in being Marathi Brahman [ Why Not ?!] it was the boon, I was apprehensive though, nonetheless looking forward to its release. As expected it met with brickbats from those who were definitely weak in history but proclaimed themselves to be zealots of Marathi culture, without really watching the movie. It had to die down naturally but real jolt came from Mr Bhansali himself, throwing his towel in, at the outset only. The 1st frame of the movie blatantly declares that 'It's a work of fiction and I have taken many liberties for creative en-devour, but not to offend any body's sensibilities [ right or wrong ],[ Who is bothered anyway, not me at least !]  ' as if deflating the hyper-inflated balloon in the beginning before it sees the skies.

It gave me goose pimples when Ranveer Singh attired in heavy metal helmet and armour to match, riding effortlessly on the horse, shouted 'Har Har Mahadev' attacking the enemy in the opening frame. 'That's it, it's going to deliver' was my first instinct. Every frame that ensued went on as if in crescendo till the interval. Marathi culture at its epitome was picturized beautifully. The battlefields came alive on a mammoth scale, maybe on par with any historical from the west. Men wearing circular headgears so typical of that era, over their shaved pates leaving a tuft of hair at the back in the centre, looking every inch regal and staunch at the same time, including light-eyed Aditya Pancholi. Milind Soman didn't have to try hard, he himself being one, chitpawan Brahman. Ladies draped in elegant nine-yard sarees, with hairstyles to match with golden flowers put in their hair, told that research at least some, must have gone in, to create an ambience of a bygone era. Priyanka Copra as Kashibai just glided in the frame, like a blast of fresh air, so came the royal pride as Tanvi Azmi with her bald pate and stern face.
The forts, palaces and citadels of Maratha empire, whether they were in Pune, in Satara or elsewhere, definitely gave an idea of how the architecture was then.  Visits to  Shaniwar Wada relics umpteen times in childhood always brought that feeling of emptiness. 'How would have it looked in its prime time?', was always a thought to ponder.  And I was grateful to Mr Bhansali that he made it real, for me at least.  It being shadowed by Rajasthani Architecture, in my view is rubbish. Interiors of all the palaces are awe-inspiring whether it is Satara's palace, HH Shahu Maharaja's court or Ganesh Mahal of Shaniwar Wada. But the seeds of doubts started getting sowed somewhere on the way. Shaniwar Wada having Sheesh Mahal on the styles of 'Mughal - E- Azam'? And Mastani dancing like  'La Madhubala'? Maybe unfathomable. May be creative liberty. The way you take it, after all, it's not a historical piece. But the feeling of uneasiness started getting repeated. 

Entries of all the main characters are so dramatic that at times they are either unreal or cliche. The unfurling of Mastani's tassel is no doubt dramatic but definitely cliche as it was mostly predictable and has been done away with, in many a movie in the past.
Does script do justice with history, Bajirao, Mastani or Kashibai? So many questions !!

More to follow......

Alma Mater

If you remove C from BJMC Pune the history of institute goes back to 19th century, 1871 to be precise. Started as BJ Medical school with a generous donation from Jeejibhoy family Became college in 1946 and I am one of the fortunate to have passed out from this motherly institute.
The scenario in 1970 was totally different than what it is today. Pune university as such catered colleges, so many, right from Khandesh to Ratnagiri and from Thane to Ahmednagar, that it was practically overcrowded. So city like Mumbai had 4 colleges only for her students while Pune had to bear the load of rest of Western Maharashtra including part of Southern Maharashtra, as 80 seats were reserved for Shivaji University.  Injustice? whom to blame?
When I entered the premises, many faces I saw were really should not have been there in the 1st place, at least in my opinion, because merit was the thing I had in mind. To my shock, which was rude, to say the least, for the first time in my life I got to know about a parallel system like reservation quota. Though coming from elite Brahmani school, such taboos were never taught, nor practised and we were never made aware of such things. Absolutely cohesive camaraderie. Well below the cut off percentage for open category, this lot definitely studied hard but always fumbled in viva for want of fluency in spoken English, maybe examiners too knew where they came from, it was a small world then, so used to help them in clearing the exams.  And thus through the same system, many enrolled even for PG courses.
Today many of them, gracefully retired, mostly from Government services rub shoulders with the elites without any prejudice whatsoever, of course, it should not be there, but it seems to be laced with covert arrogance, making it amply clear by utterances, behaviours, and body language. If a co-student from open category happened to be subordinate in Government service it became more apparent, or it seemed so. My own friends, co batch mates today are no less than me in any way, they wear good clothes, eat at 5-star restaurants, their wards go to English medium schools, many are studying abroad and they pay the income tax by the same slab what I pay but..... big but !  But still they and their children, the ones who went to English medium schools, attended same private tuition classes, wore branded shoes and took tennis lessons, still avail facilities under the backward category. At this stage, I then wonder what exactly it means by backwards?
The whole idea was, to bring real, real backward classes to a particular standard of living, once that achieved how far it is feasible for this class to continue with the reservation policy.

No, I am definitely not against reservations. You go 50 miles north of Mumbai, number one metropolis of India and we have Jawhar and Mokhada where for simple drinking water you have to struggle day in and day out, electricity is seldom available, schools are distant and ill staffed, in short, no gateway to mainstream society. This is the deserving lot and not the one who sits next to each other in Secretariat as officers or high levels managers but one enjoys and other doesn't, that's discrepancy! And the constitution I know is against it fundamentally.

We may be from the same  Alma mater but has a system  made a rift or is it so?

Another thorn in the leg was rampant nepotism. The professional rapport among-st the teaching staff and the practising but visiting consultants was so thick that the wards of the doctors got undeservedly better percentage in the finals enabling them, to hog all the coveted PG seats though in reality, they did not deserve. Now they buy in the open market!
Don't know where people like me started with dreams in eyes and goals in heart and practised honestly throughout life and where is it going to end?

Another Ghashiram in the making ?

Controversy about song 'Pinga' is spiralling so fast that it seems Bhansali may not require crores to put in for the promos and prerelease publicity, because in Cinema par-lance good or bad, any publicity is always in demand. And it is being provided by half baked history zealots [? mainly from Pune] on the platter. They seemed to be incensed, maybe because half the Pune is still in the slumber of past or maybe because Bajirao Peshwa hailed from Pune, a blue-blooded Puneri, for whom 'I'll break but won't bend' was/is a dictum. 

I too don't proclaim myself to be a historian, even half baked at that, but whatever I know about Bajirao comes from a very famous, very very famous novel on his life, going by the title 'Rau' written by very studious and a stickler for the facts, novel writer, Mr N S Inamdar.

Yes, Mastani was not accepted in Peshwa family by spreading red carpet for her, yes Chimajiappa, younger brother of Bajirao always detested her to the last,  but she was allowed to stay in Pune in a citadel specially built for her in Kothrud. When her son from Bajirao Samsher Bahadur [ Originally named Krushnarao], became eligible for thread ceremony, only meant for high caste Brahmans, though the ritual could not be solemnized at Kothrud by Bajirao, Kashibai saheb had sent gifts for the young boy nonetheless, accepting that he too was blue-blooded. Not only that, but Kashibai saheb also adopted him after the death of both Bajirao and Mastani and raised him as her own in Shaniwar Wada. It seems from the history that though Chimajiappa and Bajirao's mother Radhikabai were dead against Mastani, had even tried to eliminate her, Kashibai saheb might have had a soft corner for the lady. So though kept on the periphery, Mastani definitely did matter.

She was the daughter of Bundelkhand King Chhatrasal from his Muslim wife. She was officially married to Bajirao. Being a princess naturally, she was trained in warfare but was also trained in feminine art forms like dancing [ being a tradition up in north ] knitting, cooking and all other sundry things expected off a good wife.

Marathi [ I always detest the word 'Maharashtrian' because it encompasses anybody staying in Maharashtra, and it was coined much much later when Maharashtra state came into being ] women folk in those times were not allowed to venture out in open and interact with men, true, [ it took aeons for Savitribai Phule to start the revolution way after Peshwa period was over ] so the festivities like Mangalgaur were arranged precisely, taking the very fact into consideration. It's not unthinkable that in such festivities these,' always behind the curtain' women letting themselves go and enjoying the freedom to the hilt as men were simply not allowed. There are so many Mangalagaur songs and acts which may border on notoriety/ mischievousness.

The whole hoopla is being created after watching a  song, only one song 'Pinga', THE movie has yet to see the light of the day. The song shows Kashibai saheb and Mastani dancing to the tune of 'Pinga' but not like tamasha dancers as it is made out to be. Of course, the first few lines are based on famous Lavani song from V Shantaram film but only the tune, the steps enacted are far from it. Nowhere both have taken their pallus above their head, a step must for any Lavani song. Nowhere they are shown gyrating their derrieres or bosom to the erotic words of the Lavani, again a must for a Lavani song. In one or two instances Mastani [ Deepika] is shown doing Bharatnatyam steps which may be a deterrent as being from the north she should have been more conversant with Kathak rather than Bharat Natyam.

Apart from all these so-called historical technical things, what I feel like a true Marathi, every Marathi should welcome the movie with an open heart because it's going to open the world vistas for the Marathi culture, maybe, maybe in truncated form but aren't you bored of anyone with a 26-inch waist and 30-inch chest shouting " Main Punjab da Puttar" or " My two and a half kg arm [ with 100 mg of the brain ] if falls... "whatever! Have you any seen any Bollywood movie with protagonist A Marathi coming from rich class and dictating the terms. Either they are bhais fighting petty battles on the inner streets of Byculla or bais washing the utensils, and brooming the floor Always on the fringe. So now when this is happening why to abort it ?!
And for those puritans! Nothing in nature is in the purest form. Adaptation and Mutation is the rule of nature.!
Similar scenario prevailed among-st the Marathi literati when Ghashiram was staged years ago. Later it has become a milestone not only for Marathi theatre but also for the entire world. Every Marathi is now proud of the play that received stones and brickbats initially.
Let Bhansali take his creative liberties, and if he goes away from history in a perverse way then and then only take out your swords. [ I don't think that he would dare to do so. All said and done, Bajirao Mastani love story is mentioned in the same breath as that of Romeo and Juliet, Shiri and  Farhan, Laila and Majnu and chaste Marathis too do not object to it.] Let Bajirao Mastani see the screen in an earnest way and let us allow it to sink and float on its own merits and demerits. Till then let us wait and watch keeping in mind, what happened to Ghashiram in the past!

Musings ! Happy birthday to me !

Yet another year went by. Whether to look back to take the stock of the years gone by or to look forward to plan the life and start enjoying the ripe old age? Or I would rather look nowhere in particular. If you reminisce with a twinkle in the eyes and chuckle on the lips, you are going down the memory lane with nostalgia, but to be nostalgic means to be old. But of course, it means a life well lived and with a lot of goodies gathered on the way. Do you want to be one? Jolly well good old fellow?

And if you remember only rainy days it's really time to ponder. The road, if was always rough and rocky, maybe you had to fight all the time with the odds and come out relatively unscathed. Was it a life fought for a cause, worth to fight? I have seen so many around,  fighting losing battles fiercely and getting hopelessly wounded in the end!

I don't know what came more, in my share. 

Life is like water at the bottom of the pot and you are like a thirsty crow. You keep on dropping parts of your soul, pebble by pebble, hoping one day life would reach you, You would relish on it and fly away contentedly. Does it really happen? Or it's just a facade, an illusion of life well lived. Did it happen in my case.? By the time water rose to the desired level the longing to drink water had already evaporated. It so happened that I had to throw in so many pebbles, that all that water, I was hoping to drink and get drunk on life, just did not rise, it got consumed in just coating the pebbles leaving hardly anything for me to devour!

Does it make you cynical? No, it made me blank! Because cynicism too doesn't count! Really, what matters? Nothing, really nothing in big capital letters. You start as if it's a big deal but there comes a someone with a pin and you are left deflated at every level. The world goes on with or without you anyway.  

Happiness is not something to be achieved in the end. You have to work on it and live life simultaneously while having the journey! I did it, in the best way I could. I lost a few relations on the way I nurtured few endearing ones along. Pluses and minuses make the equation. Equation of my life would be a puzzle to me too. Haven't gathered so far, where I stand. And to tell the truth, not bothered to know either. 

If death is always a lingering thought, lurking at the back of your mind, maybe your hands are full either with the content or with remorse. In both the situations that's the normal outcome. Or should it be?!

Many more are to come, till the curtains are downed for the good, don't know, what to look forward to, till then? No, not out of desperation but because of sense of Deja Vu. Whatever there is to life,  I feel, I have lived enough and don't feel that life has anything more in store for me! No desire or longing is that strong, that sense of missing it, would prevail. And if you ask me there is no end to life. Really!

Me. A Schizophrenic ?

Nowadays I am confused a lot. Every which way the things are going is so beyond me that many times I fail to comprehend the situation. So a 'Gay' country [ They themselves call their capital 'Gay Paaari '. Of course affectionately and not literally ] like France attacks Syria without bothering about the other world's reaction, read Islamic, within a week of attack and we went on prosecuting Qasab for donkeys' years. And in the end what we proved to whom? I am confused.  

Man kills animals for food. and none escapes to satisfy his taste buds. From Mosquito eggs to insects, like gross hoppers and their larvae, from Dogs in Korea to Cats in Indonesia. From Crocodiles in Africa to Snails in France, you name a living thing  and it is served on your plate as a delicacy. Now the point is if you eat everything why beef should be a problem. Contrarily out of all these animals if you don't eat beef are you missing out on anything. In fact, the choice is so vast! And I am confused. To support or not to support cow slaughter?

Congress looted country right left and centre for more than 60 years. All the long term plans tomtomed as Dreams of India turned out to be white elephants. It has divided country on the caste basis irreparably under the guise of reservations to correct the social injustice. And today under same caste system which we want to do away with, the elections have been won in UP and Bihar. And I, the one who really wants classless caste-less society, am left bewildered and confused.

I really feel India should be a secular state in the truest sense of the word but on one hand, we have pseudo-secularism practised by Leftist and Congress favouring only Muslims and on the other side we have VHPs and Bajarang Dals who are taking India back to medieval times. Again I am confused which way to go.

To be educated, that too highly educated has become really a bane in India. You know everything is going awry but you are just helpless. Hordes of illiterates from the interiors of India are bringing back the goons and corrupt in the main arena of politics that leaves you totally confused asking, what India is really made of? 

Indira Gandhi went on proclaiming 'Garibi Hatao' for many years in elections after elections, never ever delivered But my Indians want Mr.Modi to deliver in 15 months since he started holding the reigns. And they wanted such a drastic change in a scenario like a magic trick that they started shouting from the rooftops, 'He's a liar, he is fooling people.' even before he completed one year in the saddle. They did not dare a word to say against Indira Gandhi for fear of eventuality, that all we knew and know,, but in spite of being PM of the country our noble country, he is called a liar even cannibal in the recent election. And nobody went to jail or died like Mr Nagarwala in suspicious conditions. I am confused who really is intolerant.

The list is enormous. I don't know when to stop. See. Confusion again.

  

Katyar Kaljat Ghusali

Let me confess at the outset that I was a bit, no, much skeptical about FILM 'Katyar Kaljat Ghusali'. Reasons were many. To start with, it is originally a musical, in drama format written many many years ago when we were young collegians when one has opinions on everything under the sun,  justifiable or not. And 'Katyar' was a huge success then, [why it still is an enigma even today.] so it was  THE play of OUR youth . So far all filmed dramas in Marathi have not lost their theatrical format thus remained just that ' Filmed drama' with all its shortcoming, constraint of space, loud melodramatic acting, in simple words overacting, as close ups were not available, it was for last bench-er to appreciate the correct expression, so on and so fore. 

Second big negative  for me was Sachin Pilgaonkar. No doubt he is a stalwart having acted in all performing media for more than 5 decades, but in last few years he has become too loud , too taking patrons for granted. He had become 'Maha Guru' and it showed in every move , every gesture, every utterance of his. If you become 'Know all', well you come down a step or two as an artist.

Musical dramas have always been a social signature for Marathi upper crust of the society. It never was for those who visited theater for ' Lochya Zala Re' or 'Sahi Re Sahi.' In movie lingo it was not for those who related with ' Time Pass' or 'Dagadi Chawl' So I was doubtful, whether the director - producer duo has stooped low and diluted the entire thing for every class of Marathi cine-goer, to throng to the cinema halls to solve the financial equation. 

Well, I am happy to say that none came true, for me at least.

First. It's not a filmed drama. And that is a big big triumph in it's own way. Script is so tight that a musical with so many songs, few retained from old and few added afresh, running for more than two and half hours, never allows you to blink even for a moment. Screen is  aflame with passion, emotion and terse skirmishes all the time. You, just don't get a chance to move in your seat  uneasily with slightest boredom or even a flippant yawn is not allowed to escape clandestinely. Not that, you are on the edge of the seat all the time but you become so much part of the screen that you may never know that you may really stand up with huge applause for perfect melodious rendition given by Shankar Mahadevan, mind you for a CINEMA SCREEN, [ I myself felt like doing it so many a time ] and that's is the true criterion for good script. 

Musical of course means songs. And that's a huge plus. Old ones from the original were of course treat to the ears but new ones too blend with the scene so effortlessly that it becomes impossible to sort out the two. Shankar Mahadevan with his prodigal son Shiv Mahadevan literally set your ears to the fire. 

Performances. Hats off to Subodh Bhave for extracting such extra ordinary performances from every actor. Sachin cleared all my doubts. He has given such a nuanced performance that he is worth for his title, veteran ! Revelation was Shankar Mahadevan. A south Indian in real life, speaking chaste Marathi without any signs of naivety gives such a solid performance that you just forget that it's his first ! The role fits him like a glove and raises no questions for his selection.

Hats off to Subodh Bhave THE captain of the ship , first for taking such a huge risk and second, for carrying it out with what a  huge poise. Successfully!

Go, what are you waiting for, throng the nearest movie hall. And for non Marathis it has subtitles in English ! 

Oh Salman

Oh, Salman! Initially, I did not want to comment on the topic as so much has been written about it ad nauseum that it has become like a cesspool full of mud, so when you venture to come out, this way or that way, your clothes are going to get spoiled in the end. Anybody in his position with means and money would have used the loopholes in the system to the hilt including you and me so there is no point in crying for those who don't have the means. I find it extremely difficult, to procure even a single bottle of blood for the neediest one because it costs a hell lot of money, but when an assassinated national leader and celebrated film star required blood transfusions, blood bottles were procured in dozens in no time. That's the reality for you and you have to accept it. No, I don't have any soft corner for this rich and utterly spoilt brat full with arrogance and attitude [ other was Sanjay Dutt ] but so much is written against him that it seems like trial by proxy.

Birds of the same feather flock together so Film fraternity thronging to show its solidarity with him in his times of [?] crisis is understandable, [ Surprisingly same camaraderie was conspicuously in short supply when Shiney Ahuja was under the scanner for, though punishable but much less severe crime of sexcapades, as against culpable homicide and in the other case, crime amounting practically to? sedition, or when same Bhai vowed to finish the carrier of Vivek Oberai for practically no offence of his.] but what's beyond any white collared so-called rational, bothered about the plunging values of society, intellectual is the support he is garnering from the die-hard, low brow single-screen moviegoer. Salman does not give him a dime but on the contrary, this man on the street throws a chunk of whatever little he earns to exist, to have just a glimpse of this two penny star who has delivered mediocre performance film after film. Even though fully aware of the fact that the one who came under his car and died unceremoniously was one of them!

In any philosophy of love it has been harped again and again from times immortal that if you love somebody from the bottom of your heart, you have to accept him/her the way he/she is, with all warts, with all the virtues and vices. Many relationships have failed or failing on this solid [ not slippery] fundamental grounds but it seems that it's not applicable to this fan of Salman, whatever. Definitely intriguing but explainable nonetheless. I don't like Salman as a movie actor or as a person but it seems that he has struck a chord in the man on the street somewhere deep inside. 

Is it not the acme of love, most undemanding! 

If PM stepps down on demand of oppositon and media

Imagine. Due to constant barking of the stray dogs outside the official prime ministerial residence in New Delhi, PM resigns, declaring frankly that he could not deliver what he promised exactly a year ago. The Mercs were short in supply as the European economy was in doldrums due to the Greece crisis, so he could not gift a Merc to every Indian as promised. He could not improve the judiciary as the backlog was so much that it would have taken more than 300 years to clear the cases in Mumbai courts [alone] with the present speed of deliverance of justice. He could not empower woman because that was to be done by Pappu and Co so he left it at that. He could not go far with his 'Swachchta Abhiyan' because that would have endangered Rich Indian culture and civilization of spitting on roads, defecating on railroads and littering the roads in general. And at any cost, he had to stand by Indian ethos and did not want to hurt the sentiments of poor, common Indian on the street. 

So he has stepped down. scenario number one. Pappu and His mother Maria, [ Mythological figures from Greece, no relation to any present-day caricature, I mean Individual ] come  [ back] to power.

1. Bharat Ratna is conferred on Diggy for his masterstroke in bringing the duo back in the saddle.

2. Sub Bharat Ratna for Maverick from Maharashtra who coined the slogan 'India is Maria and Maria is India' after changing the stance for umpteen number of times, at times backstabbing the near and dears ones, [so called.] to be as near the saddle as possible.

3. Within 24 hours all the women in India are empowered and the divorce rate shoots very high, breaking the ceiling.

4. Suicides committed by farmers stop immediately with retrospective effect [ Government order] so, many dead farmers come back to life singing ballads of Pappu's Padyatra that brought them back to life.

5. Greece's Economy skyrockets as Indian money is siphoned out with blessing from Maria who originally hailed from that country.

6. The dollar becomes so cheap that India is asked to stop her growth immediately by China so that the Chinese economy gets a chance to remain afloat vis a vis India's and America's.

7. Within 48 hrs India finds 15 gold mines and 32 oil reserves on her subcontinent making average Indian very very rich by the fastest speed by any counter.

Difficult to enumerate the further events and course of actions, they are innumerable.

Scenario two.

Zaadu and co. comes in power. 

1. Party gets divided into 4 fractions, each one governing Indian subcontinent in its own fashion

2. All water, electricity, money, industry is diverted to Delhi making other states barren and bereft of any facilities.

3. So every Indian worth his salt marches towards Delhi to get water, electricity, ration, school and college education, a monthly quota of alcohol and condoms, free of cost.

4. Delhi has to extend her borders so much that her southern tip now is known as Kanyakumari, the northern tip still unknown due to Kashmir dispute.

5. Over a period of time, there was so much of garbage, political or otherwise that broom started falling short of its expectations so electronic sweepers were asked for, thereby forcing the party to change the electoral symbol.

3rd Option: All Yadavs come together and there starts a Big Big Yadavi. No one should dare to venture. The area is forbidden.

Limited Social work

I don't have the faintest idea what pushed me to be in the position, what  I  am in today. Coming from a middle class, to study was the only agenda and there was no alternative. All the boys coming from the families around, too probably belonged to the same status economically and value-wise, so no deterrent there, thus all the friends were similarly study minded,  hard-working and having a fixed goal of getting good marks in the finals. It was like a stream with definite flow speed and direction and you were not supposed to fight against it, it was accepted norm. So in the due course, we all graduated with really good marks, shone in our respective fields, and braced ourselves for the second point on agenda, ' To earn a livelihood and amass enough money for trouble-free independent old age.' The money came in incidentally, there was no fixed plan or greed to procure it. Like any MD in my times, Independent practice was the logo of the day so went for it and money just came in, enough for the standards expected off a consultant by the society. There was no time to look around. Socially inclined mates were not from the inner circle. Definitely felt differently about them, but neither there was awe nor even repulsion, only indifference. I don't know whether that was the start of uneasiness that I feel today!

Chanced to meet youth from interiors of backward Maharashtra, where my MD Doctor friend's father had died of dehydration after diarrhoea for want of simple IV fluids and the lack of good medical facilities in the perimeter of 50 miles around!

Santosh Garje in his late twenties had to come to Mumbai to collect donations for an orphanage that he runs for around 100 children, 150 km away from district place of Beed. He along with his friend stayed with us for 3 days and I could get a glimpse of how hard, life could be.

Coming from a family of landless labourers, he mooted the idea of starting an orphanage at the age of 18 single-handedly after his sister died due to atrocities of her husband. The brother in law did not stop at that, remarried within short time discarding the girl child. His father went in such a profound shock that he left the home on pilgrimage never to return. Though partly educated at that time Santosh did not lose faith in society and most importantly in himself, so started an orphanage with 7 children to start with. And then there was a rocky ride for many years to come. Right from, the threats from the goons to demands of signing authorities to grease the palms, he went through every hurdle with his head held high but a heart full of compassion. Today his orphanage shelters girls who require separate building and he is short of funds. Me and my family especially my wife Shubha do try to help him for his cause but her efforts do have limitations.

Deities who really do not come to rescue in our difficult times, get money, gold and whatnot in crores but people like Santosh have to beg for alms to run an Ashram for destitute. 

And there lies the cause for my unexplained uneasiness. Do we as a class have restricted ourselves to limited social work? Donate few rupees and responsibility towards society is over. Don't know what's the deterrent but thought many times to leave everything and join some ashram to offer my expertise. Is it the insecurity, typically middle class,'If it fails!' where would I go then?  What about MY old age? Probably we all are stuck in the same rut to varying extents. And the thought increases my uneasiness further. The only way out then maybe, to help likes of Santosh more and exercise our limited social work!

Judiciary

Judicial systems all over the world are contrived to take into consideration the local customs, culture, religion and so many other things to dole out the justice to the wronged parties. That's the broad principle for laying down the laws and rules by learned people who profess to know better, to be followed by the common man on the street. Thus these laws not only vary from country to country but in countries like the US of A from state to state, which to a certain extent is applicable to India also. The entire machinery that goes into it, for it to work smoothly, is managed by human beings like you and me. The bar of humanitarianism, integrity, intelligence and logic is expected to be so high that at the lower end of the hierarchy, it seems to be in want direly everywhere, including developed countries. The posts at the lowest level are taken by people who may not be qualified for the post simply because they lack the higher skills and proficiency for higher posts so they are there in these posts. And the struggle of the common man seeking justice for the right cause starts at this lowest level. This half baked human barrier simply does not allow the case to go further with their myopic views and blinds worn preventing them to see beyond.

It so happened once that I was hit while driving my car, from behind on left side by a teenager cyclist that made hardly any sound. I continued to drive thinking it to be a road bump. A constable came searching for me in my hospital when I was busy seeing a patient requiring urgent attention. He alleged that I had knocked the cyclist down, which naturally came to me as a surprise. On knowing the details I tried to argue with him to put my point forward that according to Motor Vehicle Act if somebody hits you from behind on the left side, it's not the fault of car driver but is of the one who bangs from behind. He did not listen to my side of the story and was stubborn enough to push his point relentlessly. In the end, I gave up and said 'Do whatever you want to do'. End of the story: For no fault of mine I had to attend court neglecting my duties at clinic, wasting valuable time and paying fine of Rs 500/-  unnecessarily because the peg at the lowest level was ignorant of the law and was adamant enough to teach me a lesson!

I agree, this incidence is extremely trivial, but if you stretch the imagination, it could be projected to enormous proportions, at times even unthinkable levels!

I feel the entire machinery has a human face, and that, it has to have. But it could be its boon and bane at the same time. Even if the laws are laid down for the betterment, they are made by humans only to be followed by humans. So at every level from application to execution of the said laws, Human factor is going to affect the ultimate outcome. So the Police are going to have its own bias, lawyers their own including the ultimate in the system the Judge, who would not be a robot! Unfortunately in the system made by the humans, this entire set has put itself on such a high pedestal that you just can not utter even 'D' of the word dissent to reach them. In the US of States, once the lowest wrung of this hierarchy declares you to be  ' An Enemy of the State', entire Patriotic America is after you for your blood.
So far I always have been on the right side of the line. So far so good, but to say that I am bothered by the recent assaults on the medical professionals would be an understatement. Petrified would be too dramatic but scared, definitely that I am. After 45 years in the field and 35 years in direct practice, I keep on dreading when would be my turn next? The surroundings have become so volatile and vicious that it's a question of only one spark! In such a situation to whom should, I turn to? I am a senior professional with vast experience in the field. And if at all a case arises, I would be questioned by a junior may be a senior lawyer, who really have not studied medicine to my depth, about my credentials in the field. How much fair it would be in the broader sense? One professional being questioned by another having the least knowledge about other's field. If everything is going to depend on paperwork and circumstantial evidence Doctors would be left with nothing but the clerical work more than to practise their acquired skills.  
In a much much broader sense, how far is it feasible for any human being to prosecute another human being when everything is unclear and blurred and the laws are variable at the most! It boils down to the opinion of one or few according to the present system. It's injustice meted out to an individual by majority, Brutal, under the guile of law. I don't know the answer, I don't have the solution and I do believe in the integrity of today's system but .... isn't there a big question mark? 

Court

I love to go for movies, and love to watch them on a big screen. Any, off the tract movie I seldom miss. So it was natural that I beelined for 'Court', award-winning Marathi movie. As such I have a soft corner for Marathi movies so many a time I have watched them either alone in a multiplex or in the company of not more than 10 patrons. 'Court' definitely drew decent crowd but it was prime time slot on Sunday!

I would love to dissect, not analyse, the movie on two levels. It's real worth and it's award-winning status. I am feeling sad to do so but that's it, dissection.

To start, I felt like I ended up paying for a very slow, not much to reveal, without any shockers in the plot, a documentary that ended so abruptly that, it was the only twist in the entire narration. I don't know where it lost that bite but as it went along it never caught me by my neck and made me swirl in my seat with uneasiness. The narration no doubt was without any pretensions but it lacked that zing, making it a totally bland dish. It just goes from one scene to another without really making any impact. And the shots linger so much that maybe a yawn escapes, especially in the scene where the court is adjourned for the day and attendant closes the room. Same for the last Arnala picnic. It drags on and on. On a different level, to show the difference between the statuses of Public prosecutor and the lawyer of the defendant, 'the dining out' scenes seemed contrived and mundane. For anybody in present-day Indian ethos with eyes widely open, it comes hardly as a shock, and the purpose of it serving as an eye-opener is totally lost without making any impact whatsoever. These are the realities of the day to day life that everybody is aware of and there is hardly any drama in it, to make it, into a full-length feature film. Made on the similar lines, about the futility and treachery of the Police and Judicial system, even in a country like US of A, 'Nothing but the truth' makes you cringe in the seat. Comparisons are always hideous but....    

It's so realistic that it does not pounce on you. You feel as if you have read a newspaper after morning's tea, leave everything at that and head for your daily chores forgetting about everything you read in a jiffy.  

On the second level: It has won President's Golden Lotus as an outstanding movie of the year. As a Marathi moviegoer, I felt extremely proud of it for two reasons. One, it being a Marathi movie and second, so far President's Awards are always held in high esteem!

Now is it really a Marathi movie? Of course, it's about Marathi but not in Marathi. And does it espouse the cause of Marathi? Many characters including the defence lawyer, never utter a word in Marathi. On the contrary, he wants the proceedings to be translated into a language other than Marathi. That too after living in Mumbai for life long! The court proceedings are conducted in Marathi accented English, naturally. So there goes half the chunk.

Awards! That's absolutely a different issue altogether. Manojkumar and Shankar Jaikishan getting them for 'Pehchan' was a big let down for a person like me who always felt that they should be always on merit! Shah Rukh Khan getting even nomination for ' Chennai Express' and ' Happy New Year' is an indication of, up to what level the standard has stooped.

So far President's awards were above this. Now I doubt! What criteria do they apply for selecting a movie for the highest slot is really bothersome. Or was the standard of other contenders was that dubious? 

Language Bridge or barrier ?

I really don't get why non-Marathi speaking Maharashtrians, as they love to call themselves, detest Marathi so much? They up their antennae at the drop of a hat whenever something positive is being considered about Marathi culture or Marathi in her own state. And they don't leave any stone unturned till they get everything their way. At times labelling pure love of the natives for their own culture and language parochial. Never heard of such clamour being whipped up In Chennai about Tamil or In Kolkatta about Bengali. Nobody simply dares! Why, here in Mumbai nobody raises an eyebrow even by a flicker when every other Punjabi Film star, especially male one, proclaims with vacuous pride that Punjabi blood flows through his veins and he is proud to be a Great Punjabi! Why then so much of hue and cry is being raised when Marathi cause is espoused by a Marathi government.

According to our constitution,  all major Indian languages are having equal status, and Hindi is NOT a national language as it is made out to be. BUT Marathi is definitely the STATE language and state must do everything to see to it that she gets her due status and respect. 

Everybody now days wants to have his/her way saying, 'It's my choice'. All these so-called Maharashtrians want their choice of not having Marathi Movie in Prime Time slot. Then what about the choice of a blue-blooded Marathi like me to watch Marathi movie at 6 PM slot when Multiplex owner is just not going to screen my choice of movie in that slot. And who knows if they start screening, maybe Marathi Movies will start giving their counterparts in other languages tough time! Or is it so, that's why these very people are afraid of the competition?

The real point is not a particular language. Human Larynx is only voice producing organ in the entire animal world, which can be modulated, intoned, emphasized to make different sounds using/ relaxing/ contracting correct muscles of vocal cords with input from the cerebral cortex. Such a mechanism , very complex one is the mother of all the Languages. The sound made by human larynx may be the same throughout the world, as though the races differ, laryngeal anatomy does not. But that sound takes meaning only when years of culture, history goes into it. Thus simple sound produced by any larynx in the world like 'Ma' has different meanings in different languages. So it does not stop at the language level when somebody objects to it. It's definitely an attack on the being of an individual. When I say I am Marathi then my being Marathi starts from way back in the 8th century. Decades of struggle, improvements, additions, omissions, writings, thoughts of authors, poets philosophers, saints along with the patrons who supported them have contributed to my being Marathi today.

Likes of Shobhaa De are not Marathis, in an interview for National Channel she could not speak barely two sentences in simple Marathi in one breath, she may be a Maharashtrian but definitely not Marathi. And they make the most noise about being 'True', whatever that means, Maharashtrian!
I sincerely used to believe in the dictum that language is just a mode of communication, but now I feel it's too simple in today's highly politicized world. The poser now is whether it is a bridge or barrier?

Pune: ongoing cascade of memories.

Thus, though Day Jee had a separatist aura around it, Pune proper too [ mostly Sadashiv, Shanwar Narayan ]  tried hard to project its elan especially when it came to, Nana, Guruwar or Vetal Peth. Camp always was different, as if it was never a part of Pune on this side of the world. Neither Day Jee nor Proper Puneites lagged behind in looking down upon east Pune but prided when they went to watch a Hollywood flick at the West End! It was THE thing to do! It was my long-cherished dream too, to visit 3 Coins restaurant on East street. It materialized late, late by 20 years but the pressure [ I am in 3 Coins !] was almost palpable.
Pune, east of Budhwar chowk was considered backward by Day Jee and Pune Proper! Maybe, it carried caste undertones too!  If somebody answered in accent from Satara or Sangli with a distinct drawl, it was met with 'You seem to be graduated from the University of Vegetable Market [Mandai in Marathi] ! ' an encounter full with typical Pune sarcasm!

The speciality of Day Jee was, Cozy bungalows lining Prabhat Roat and Karve Road. By lanes of Apte Road and Model colony were its rich cousins!
It was an abode for all that Marathi diaspora who, after toiling in cities like Mumbai and Delhi life long, wished to be cremated at Omkareshwar after the last breath.

 As if it was THE road in the entire universe, 80 Ft road, aka JM road now, was a piece of pride! So much so that Puneris used to sing a song, specially written in its praise !.
The words went something like these,
' Shama let's take a stroll on 80 feet road with poise and go to Sambhaji garden !'

Another soft point for Day Jee was cinema theatre 'Hindvijay'! Built in the 40s in Art Deco style of Miami's or Mumbai's Marine lines, but losing its battle with time in due course! Why only Day Jee, entire Pune was in love with that handsome structure. Painted in faint pink it had two towers on sides with a spacious decorated porch at the entrance. Doors had etched glasses and foyer had huge Belgian mirrors, like today's Liberty or Maratha Mandir of Mumbai. What it prided in, is lost in today's multiplex era. Screens in today's multiplexes are naked, nothing to hide. Hindvijay boasted in having pure velvet curtain in Burgundy red with golden circles at the lower border, covering the silver screen with due respect! It used to move sidewards with the grace of Cleopatra before the real show started in black and white. Eastman colour was years away!
In 57 Mutha flooded Pune beyond limits and waters reached Hindvijay too. I distinctly remember a visit to Hindvijay then, with the elders as it was a fashion in Pune in those days to visit flood-affected areas. I remember vividly that it was showing, Madhumati, starring Dilipkumar and Vyjayantimala,  with its poster pasted on the side walls.
Being prestigious cinema hall of Pune in those days it screened many hits from Hollywood as well as Bollywood. Though totally washed out in Panshet deluge, it rose like a phoenix again and showed big Hindi Hits like 'Sangam ' Waqt' for months together. It opened 70 mm screen for the 1st time in Pune with Shirley McClain starter, 'Can-Can ' a Hollywood flick with said dance as the theme. Now it had a curtain in Pure Gold colour that rolled upwards in elegant semicircles, again 1st in Pune !  6 tracks stereophonic sound too was a novelty then. I simply can not forget the train whistle of 'Where Eagles Dare' or the ear-splitting sound of planes hovering over the head in 'Battle of Bulge' even after 50 years. In the 70s it changed the hands. Shindes from Bengaluru renovated it and new 'Natraj' stood in its place. It neither had the charm of Hindvijay nor it was that good, it was just an adulterated copy of their 'Nartaki' cinema Hall at Bengaluru. Today that too has been erased from Pune's topography.
Down went Shrinath, Aryan, Minerva also. Once Alpana was Known as Shirin or Ratan as Paramount hardly anybody knew or cared. 
Not only these structures went down with the time but they took away a slice of Pune's history along with them.

Today Pune has everything that a normal modern city has. But that old world charm is lost somewhere along the lines. Once backward East Pune has gone much ahead of Day Jee and Pune Proper with its Multiplexes and Ultra-modern malls like Amanora, All season's mall or Phoenix city. But that's plastic. Real worth probably got washed away in Panshet deluge! 

Down the memory lane: Pune

Laxmi Road: To call it a road, is to insult the word 'Road'. Actually, it swiftly fitted the definition of gulley then too. It is really hard to imagine that PMT Bus No. 7 used to ply on this road. Both ways !! With a protruding snout-like bonnet, it used to look like a toy bus made from matchboxes, so we kids used to call it ' Kadepeti' [matchbox in Marathi. ]Because it used to zigzag through better localities of Pune, Camp to wit, it carried enigma in our eyes while the other one, No 2, used to ply between the same destinations, from Day Gee to Pune station but via a different route, held low esteem in our view, as it crossed through low brow areas of Pune. Say, Kasba Peth, Ravivar Peth Daruwala Pul, and Rasta Peth. Bus No 3 was the queen of all the routes because it used Tilak Road and prestigious 80 feet road to reach the station from Swargate. Later the routes were rearranged so No 3 became 4 while No 7 became 14. I don't know how are they now!
To count the buses passing through Kunte Chowk while sitting on the steps of our Wada was a favourite past time. To predict when the signal would turn green was another. It was a very peculiar traffic signal. Carton like  metal box was hung at the centre of the crossroads, with red and green glasses on each side. If Laxmi roadside had red ones on the upper side, the cross roadside had greens. The arrangement was totally reverse on the lower side. It had only 2 bulbs. So when the upper bulb was on, it was red for Laxmi Road traffic, while the crossroad had green signal. Exactly opposite was true for the lower bulb.
The crossroad from our Wada to Kunte chowk continued further down to Fadtare Chowk, where Chitales had a smallish shop, not more than 10 by 12 Ft dealing in dairy products. It later became today's big, bigger conglomerate the 'Chitale Bandhu'  much famous sweetmeat makers all over Maharashtra, maybe world [?amongst Marathi diaspora]! In the era when Refrigerator at home was a distant dream I had purchased 250 gm of yoghurt for 25 paise, and the same amount of pure butter for a rupee and 25 paise for years together. So much so that we had an account over there. I still remember Mr Wagh calling me across the counter and asking ' What little Benurwar has come for, today? ' The founder Mr Raghunathrao Chitale in his crisp white cotton dhoti, too was affectionate one, inquiring periodically about well being of my granny and home people. Bhel by Gajanan and Misal by Bedekar were other weak points for Puneites then. Today Chitale Bandhu have gone beyond cult, so much so that Gujrati Bakarwadi now is known as Chitale's Bakarwadi.

It is extremely difficult to define the word ' Puneri' and also the person carrying the nomenclature. In fact 'Puneri' and 'Punekar' are two different species altogether. The one who comes to Pune on the job, then falls in love with Pune and settles down here is a  Punekar [ Mostly Marathi Mumbaite but longing for Marathiness in Mumbai's cosmopolitan chaos ]   For him it takes very long to understand the nuanced Marathi of Pune, read sarcastic. So the one who has been nurtured only on waters of Mula and Mutha [ In real sense only Mutha, because Mula in those days was not in real Pune, it flows through distant Pimpri and Chinchwad, ] is 'Puneri'.  He need not be taught to speak, behave like a true Puneri, True Puneri is born, can never be made! Two drops of Mutha with gripe water and the child starts talking Puneri without a hitch!

More to follow.

Pune: Nostalgia

I am not that ancient to say, 'Pune was known as Punawadi when I stepped on its ground for the first time.' But The Pune in the late fifties was much different than what it is today when we decided to stay a put in Pune, as father's job in military accounts was transferable, which would have cost our education dearly. It's about 60 years now since then, and it has come to a state where you feel whether Pune has lost its identity and has become an extended suburb of Mumbai?

Parvati at its south, Khadki in the north, Camp towards east and Nal stop on the west were the boundaries then. Hingane, Hadapsar, Katraj had not become the parts of Pune and were considered villages on the outskirts. When for winter picnics we used to visit Aranyeshwar and Padmavati there was no pucca road and one had to go along the Talyatala Ganpati, below the aqueduct of Mutha's Right canal, through ankle-deep water. Thereafter it was cross country through fields to reach Aranyeshwar. For Padmavati few more fields on the feet. Much later during festive times corporation started bus services from Swargate but here too, you had to get down in the middle of now where and again walk down for a mile or so, to reach the temples. Today Big Bazaar is a bigger landmark than Padmavati and you really have to scout for the temple.

'Talyatala Ganpati' was Ganapati's shrine for the namesake in those days too. The lake surrounding it hardly had a drop of water. The road joining Mitra Mandal colony and Tilak road was just non-existent. Few arches, maybe from the Peshwa era, stood there but nobody was bothered about them as it was made dumping ground by truckers who carried debris. The bottom of the so-called lake was uneven. It had many humps those looked like pustules to me. My granny used to say they were rabbit holes but I could never see rabbits any time so I used to call it pustule land on which my mother used to reprimand me for calling names at God's land.

River Mutha had Left canal like the present Right one. It used to pass through Nal stop, Law College, Bhandarkar Institute. After taking a turn at BMCC it used to enter Ferguson College premises after making friends with Hanuman hill on the west. Thereafter it just vanished. It was said that in PuLa's time, water flew through it. But as far as I remember, the period from 1957 to 1975 it was always dry as a desert !

Maharshi Karve's Ashram at Hingane, Vitthalwadi, were picnic spots. On the way to Hingane the bus stop, Nal stop, was named after a tap connection for the locals. It was functional till late, now there is not a drop of water even for the most thirsty! Hingane Ashram today is lost in the concrete jungle. Today one has to search for it like going on a treasure hunt!

This was Pune exterior, what about Pune interior?

Settlement on the east bank of Mutha was Pune 'Proper' while on the west bank it was 'Day Jee.' short form for Deccan gymkhana. It was the citadel of Pune high brows. It was custom for these residents to say in faint nasal twang, when one had to cross the river to come on the east side, with the neck in a correct tilt and little furrow on the forehead between the brows to show annoyance with dignity,' Had gone to village side you know !' I don't know what they say today ! [ When my Mumbai friend told a South Mumbai snob belonging to the same genre that she stays in Matunga, "Not far from the town !" came the retort like a smashed shuttlecock! By her standards, we the residents of poor Ghatkopar must be aborigines from Andaman rain forests ! ]

Pune proper was ruled by 'Wada' culture and had innumerable gulleys. To reach the other end of these gulleys, used to be a Himalayan task even for the one on two feet! 'Bhau Maharajacha Bol' and 'Munjabacha Bol' of the lot were Pune's world-famous! I really wonder what relation Pune carries with this institution of gulleys. Recently I had driven my Juggernaut, i.e. SX 4 in one of these gulleys in Bibwewadi which is a brand new locality. But the roads? I had to restrain myself from uttering explicit while negotiating my car through that maze!  I really feel that Pune is still using the Peshwa yardsticks to build the roads.

" This is nothing 'Khatrud's roads are worse," he said trying to pacify me. I didn't get,
 " Khatrud?"

 " Kothrud! All Narayan Shanwar has shifted there, they are used to gulleys, allergic to bigger roads you know !" He probably did not belong to that part of the city. But point to ponder is, one Punekar saying such thing about another! It was beyond for Mumbaikar like me!

More to come

 

Alien amongst own

Being a vernac medium student, I was introduced to English literature a bit late, in the 1st year of college. No Hardy Boys or Famous Fives for me. I read Pearl Buck's, Nobel Prize winner 'The Good Earth' when I was 17 and was so enthralled that I did not realize it may come true for many of us in later years. Trials and tribulations of a simple Chinese peasant, in opium afflicted  Pre Mao China, his rise from poor land labour to big landlord and ultimately getting trapped again in the same scenario where his precede-rs went, in the opium jungle thereby bringing down his journey of life to square one, a story that is so universal that in a different sense it got repeated in my life too.

Coming from well-educated Landowners' family from father's side and aristocratic British servants' family from mother's side I can not say that we were absolutely 'Have nots'. But many a twist later due to situations beyond anybody's control we were left being a lower middle class family with not exactly hand to mouth but meagre existence in Pune's dilapidated Wada, where we had to share the toilet with 10 other families for morning ablutions. A simple case of Diarrhea was a nightmare in that situation.

Belonging to 3.5% population of Maharashtra, merit was the only way out from that ghetto. Hard work does not have an alternative so I could get admitted to Medical school with efforts and dedication, I must say at this juncture that, maybe genetically I was gifted so it became easier. I do not wish to go into the details but my father's true 'Zamindar' colours became imminent and we were left with difficult day to day existence as part of life. Though matriculate at that time my mother took the job of a school teacher, for which her take-home salary was Rs 20 a month. For Rs 3 a month she used to walk miles to take tuitions of wards of labourers in not so clean areas of Pune around today's Phule market. And thus I could finish my medical education on free ship as a ward of the primary school teacher.

Today when I sit in my 14th-floor apartment in a posh locality of Mumbai I am reminded of that Chinese Peasant from Pearl Buck's novel 'The Good Earth'. 

I too had to struggle to come to this status, many a time bodily, at times consuming time, at times even selling out soul while trying to remain afloat in strong counter currents. But everything achieved was on pure merit! Now I move around in a circle where they talk of Foreign jaunts, profit-making investments all the time. Women are never tired of talking about their new solitaires or nth piece of jewellery that lies on the top of the already existing pile. Many a time I am pulled in, reluctantly but without able to deny the fact, that I too belong, money-wise, status wise to THE group. To bring myself back to the reality I have to remind myself of my patients from downtrodden areas who simply can not afford to buy simple medicine or get essential but a bit expensive lab test done. And then I start wondering where do I stand in this chaos?

Just upping the tainted glasses of my air-conditioned car does not alienate me from the stark reality outside. But at the same time I feel, do I really belong there? Spitting, publicly urinating uneducated squatting lot but politically aware all the same. Too aware at times! The so-called social workers, read politicians in white clothes and shoes, amongst them, instigating them on trivial issues many times but really caring too hoots about them when it is necessary. I shudder,  I cringe when I have to deal with them. At times I am just scared. When thorough cleaning of the gulley was required, a temple came on the nullah with the patronage of a local politician within a flash of time adding to the filth and cacophony.  I had tried to put sense into pro porter but when temple went on becoming big, I had to withdraw just out of fear. In my own country! 

In my own profession too, now, you are there either because of your caste lineage or because your father has piled stacks of money in the backyard, merit taking a back seat! And I am scared to raise my voice against the discrepancies, though my kith and kin are being meted out unequal treatment, when opposite was guaranteed by the constitution, in my own country!

From 3.5%, highly educated, reached where I am today with my efforts and merit, as a sensitive intelligent individual, why I am feeling that I am an alien amongst my own!

Relationships: more about it: less said the better

Another forced relationship : Siblings: You just can not choose them. But for a few genetic strands, the womb where you came from and few formative years of childhood, you don't share much. Do you share, really or you were made to share? When the word 'Informed Parenting'  was unheard of, the bias amongst the flock, that was their own, the parents used to exercise without any remorse, unabashedly. So intelligence  though was counted, used to take a back seat when looks came in the picture. Thus many childhood memories are tainted by this bias leaving permanent scars, those take the form of 'Sibling Rivalry'  in coming years. It's a well-known entity accepted by the science of mind and the word is so self-explanatory that no further deliberation is required.  

Brothers vowing not to see the face of others is such a common phenomenon in India that the topmost families in India too could not escape the diktat. Read Gandhis and Ambanis. In contrast, Brother- Sister relationships are always gracious, loving and empathic. Being a male I can not much comment about such a thing in sisters but examples are abundant. 

After sharing a beautiful childhood, where this bad blood could be setting in? In my opinion maybe, mostly after the entrance of the spouses in their lives. Somebody coming from different background, with a different set of values changes the scenario so much that at times it becomes difficult to believe that they once were siblings. Now they have their own families their own near and dear ones so they simply cease to remain the part of their parents' family,  a fact leaving a huge void for longing!

I never understood why one should be apologetic about one's genetic gifts. If being differently challenged, or being homosexual or underprivileged is taken now with an open mind and they are encouraged to come out openly and be as normal as possible, why a smart Alec is always booed or looked down upon. For the society of averages, it's very difficult to accept somebody to be smarter, more intelligent and gifted than them. It is very interesting to note that, society accepts 'Have nots' more willingly. Because here the attitude is condescending. In another case, it's plain jealousy. For the gifted one too, it is difficult to climb down and build bridges with somebody who is not on par. In families where this difference is palpable amongst the siblings the parents rather than bringing the two parties together, add fuel to the fire, knowingly, at times unknowingly. And this always becomes the nidus for the future 'Sibling Rivalry' At times it reaches to such a peak that one who becomes relatively successful starts boasting about his booty and starts expecting respect, at times demanding one! Respect or Ego amongst the siblings is a journey towards the nadir of relationship. As they, after all, are made of the same earth, this attitude becomes the beginning of the end of a relationship.

Friends are a different cup of tea altogether. You start alone on the journey of life and keep on meeting this wonderful set of people on the way, sharing your views, sharing your love, sharing your dream. You become friends with those only, who are like-minded, so those who are not, get eliminated automatically and that's the beauty of the process. It happens so smoothly without leaving any bad blood behind. Unfortunately, the ones whom you like but do not succeed in life money-wise, too get eliminated, not from your side but theirs. It's a loss nonetheless.[ Krishna-Sudama story is not for today's times. Krishna was a God after all.] It's true other way round too. Those who touch the zenith, enter the totally different circle and cease to be a part of your homely group.

Like love, though friendship happens, it can not be forced [ I want to be friends with Madhuri Dixit ], it has to be nurtured by both the parties. There is no one-way traffic here. A time comes in a life where your friends take place of your blood relatives, even near and dear ones and your quest for solace from the relationship comes to an end! I don't know, but I feel, real friendship starts only in childhood, when you are totally naked on all the fronts. Nothing to hide nothing to boast of! When the situation is thus at the outset, it becomes so endearing to share when one achieves. It becomes a collective achievement. This is the lot who pulls you down and does not allow you to lose contact with the earth. At their behest, your feet are firmly grounded, in most of the astounding conditions and in most adverse ones too!

Any relationship whether mother-child, siblings, friends, bosses or colleagues, mainly depends on what type of person YOU are. It becomes a two-way affair afterwards!

One traveller entering a new village asks the sentry,' How are the people of this village?' The sentry counters,' How were the ones in the previous one'. 'Oh, scoundrels. Cheaters and thieves.' Sentry says with a wry smile,' They are same here.'

Another traveller throws the same question. Sentry's counter-question was the same one too. In jovial mood traveller replies, 'Oh lovely ones. Helping, Caring, Very cooperative and friendly'  Sentry says with a grin ' These villagers too are same, friendly, cooperative and caring'.

Doesn't it tell-all?

P.S: This is not a dissertation for M. Phil. Just a few of my observations, thoughts and musings.

Relationships: A Big question mark

More than 60 years down the lane, I don't have the faintest clue still, 'what makes the two people click?' In general and on a personal level I tried to analyse but always drew a blank, many times neither here nor there, no definite conclusion. Whether the relationship is a forced one like blood relations or colleagues and roommates allotted by the authorities, or the chosen ones like spouses or friends, the statement holds true for all and sundry.
The front runner, the most primal is Mother-child relationship. 'Mother loves all her children equally ' is a myth, better if dispelled at the outset. Gender bias apart, it prefers the better one amongst the equals. Sons are preferred over daughters is a fact in a country like India where mothers' love is considered to be the epitome of sacrifice. But it's the same mother who sacrifices her daughters to beget a son for the family, going to the extent to commit the crime under the pretext of honour killing or 'Dudhjali'. Here one may add that the daughters though are treated secondarily are more attached to their mothers. So much so, that at times I have seen them snatching the husbands away from their mothers at the behest of own mothers! Again there are exceptions to the rule. Nutan slapping a lawsuit on her own mother Shobhana Samarth or vice a versa, Sarika being locked out and made to pass a night in the car by her own mother, the instances everybody knows!
I have known a mother who selectively treated her sons by their complexion, the fair one getting a better share of food, clothes schooling and everything while the darker ones were given secondary treatment! The elder ones are always brought up with a cane in the hand while the younger ones get away scot-free, is a rule rather than the exception! In one-child families the mothers are so doting that they suffocate the very individuality of the child. I had to reprimand one such mother who was always including herself in the activities of her child, 'We don't want to study, We are lazy, We like to sleep late even when exams are at the corner' Emphasis was on 'WE' and not on he or she! Rather than allowing the child to think on his/her own, the mother was doubling for him/her!
Another way round, a fact that mother too is as human as anybody else, is totally forgotten by the children. In many a family, she is kept on the pedestal just because she has borne children, though has done nothing else in life as a human being! Any word uttered by her is held like a gospel truth though it might be defying any logic or is miles away from the intellect! And the child goes to any lengths to fulfil the dream of THE mother that may cost him/her dearly. One such ' Maa ka Beta' was about to thrash me when I stopped her from spitting in the hospital corridor! 'HIS MOTHER' being stopped from a simple act like spitting? Unpardonable!
Another domain, where the relationship is by choice and shadowed by too many paradoxes is, Spouses! Man - Woman, Husband - Wife relationship! Every girl while selecting a suitable boy goes for his higher intelligence, higher pay, higher status, better family, better prospects anything better than her, maybe little compromise on looks' side, but as soon as the event, known as the wedding is done away with she immediately wants to be on par with him in every respect from the day one! So many times he has to just underplay his intelligence to please his lady love. 'My husband doesn't know a damn' is sole truth for her and she believes in it wholeheartedly though the husband might be having IQ of more than 150! Covert or overt there's always a fight amongst the spouses for 'Who should wear the pants in the house?'! There is always a war-like situation. "Why 'I' should take it to why 'I' have to compromise always.", are the warring points, though they do not hold water most of the times. The relationship itself is most of the time started on the wrong foot. Rather than planning for the love-filled co-existence together, 'He/she' must know/ must be shown who I am !' is always the first step of the ladder. Any relationship started on that note is going to be a jittery ride with lots of hiccups. And that's what I have seen in practically all the marriages around me. In one that claims to be a successful and smooth sailing, one spouse is invariably dominant and the other is so meek and submissive that he/she asks for a bucket when spouse orders to milk the bull!
The words are always hollow. We throw them in the air without care and empathy. One such word, unfortunately, is 'Relationship' used frequently without really knowing the meaning of it or working towards to develop it.

If You bear with me, more to follow!