Can We Tolerate a PADOSAN?

Its a Sunday - a lazy beginning to the routine.I just played some old music to add to the lazy mood and the evergreen songs of Padosan were filling the quietness of my apartment.The thoughts went back to the movie and how the magic of some movies fails to diminish with time.They have the diamond touch....time just makes it more priceless.
Also,I was led to think if the same movie could have stood the test of current times.A movie which has got all the ingredients for success - humour,entertainment,nice music - would surely have got lots of brickbats if its release happened in 2010.A pig tailed south indian,played by a muslim Mehmood, would have not been allowed to get accolades and laughs ........in fact nothing that the movie has gained would have been possible.The magic would be lost in discussions at the Big Fights and Face the Nation shows of the so called premier news channels of the country.There would be media frenzy and the tamil political force would be all over the press and tv baring their fangs at the movie which makes a "mockery" of the dravidian culture .......the actor would be slapped with a number of cases against him from hurting religious sentiments to being anti national and would be running for cover trying to escape it all giving interviews and issuing public statements of apology.There would be widespread demonstration for stopping the movie.....time and public property would be damaged in bringing down the cinema halls and loads of sms campaigns would be trying to make a quick buck asking people to sms silly yes or no answers (as if it would solve the problem!!) about the the insensitivity of the moviemaker or something like that.No doubt the movie would have made a good deal of money with all the controversy and the producer would surely have had the last laugh but the sole purpose for which Padosan was made would be lost.......there would be no joy or entertainment.......just charred remains of hurt, anger and dissent would be left for discussion.

This is the new us......an intolerant human force....which like the 6 blind men trying to imagine each part of the elephant's body as per their imagination never managed to appreciate the beauty of the elephant.....we just keep reading between the lines and never try to understand what is really being said!
The makers of Padosan were just lucky not to have the current crop of mean politicians and the likes of Raj Thakerey as their padosi (neighbours) or else a gem in the collection of classic movies would not have retained its sheen and lustre!

ABOUT 3 MORE IDIOTS...

First of all, a very happy new year to all..Don't know if happiness is so easy to usher in by just changing the year but then it is a thought and practice carried out for so long and carries a positive vibe, worthy of being spread and passed on.
I had my family with me for the holidays and it surely brought a lot of joy and happiness meeting each other after a gap of 4 long months......especially for my little darling daughter,who I feel ,is unknowingly sacrificing the most in this decision of mine to take up the job at Port Blair.The worst thing about the holidays is that they end and make life more tough because you have just started romancing and getting to love it more and more when it suddenly moves away.So, my wife and kid moved back to their routine last Sunday and I returned to mine.......and just to keep that smile on my face stuck for some time more, I got a pirated dvd of "3 idiots" to watch; instead of cursing the time for passing by so early.
The movie is no doubt good and very enjoyable which every person who has led a life in hostel would surely associate with.I could draw a lot of parallels with my life in the medical college hostel where I spent almost 8 years of my life.I just got transported to the year 1993 when four words on a piece of telegram changed my life forever.It said : Selected for MBBS course.......
After the initial joy and partying,I remember moving out on 27th July,1993 from Pune with my father to join the course.We reached the college after a long and tiring journey and though I was nervous and scared like a wet cat to enter into the new world of being alone and catering for myself,I was nevertheless determined to go through it.After getting over with some paperwork, I was asked to undergo the medical examination which was being conducted in the physiology lab.And there, I saw a glimpse of my batchmates who would get embedded in my memory later as the guys who came as boys and girls and walked off the same college with a prefix to their name : DOCTOR- one word which carries a lot of trust and hope for every human on this earth.

My first medical check was quite a disaster.Don't know why, but my blood was under too much pressure and shooting and the doc who examined me checked twice and then asked me to rest and not to get tensed as this was a routine affair.Fortunately, the blood stopped being a cooker and the pressure came under control in some time.The next check really caught me off pants.........the surgeon wanted me to bare my nuts, a routine test done to check for conditions like hydrocoele and hernias which I learned later...but at that point of time, it was something shameful for me.......I was caught unawares but I had no option but to let my genitals get molested by the surgeon :(
And there as I was zipping myself feeling like a rape victim,I met the first idiot of my story.....Pravin Salunke,Salu for short......... jeans,shirt,finger combing his hair and acting more like a bollywood wannabe than a wannabe doctor......I moved on...The torture soon ended and the check ups were over and I was finally admitted as a first year doc to be....a dream come true..
We entered the hostel after 15 days of "Orientation" (a silly idea of the college authorities to make the new kids on the block stay in an ashram and get to know the Gandhian way of living.....surely  an extended party for all the fuchchas) We never learned anything Gandhian but had loads of fun in his name and got to know each other a bit better.
As we got our bags ready, we all felt like a chick coming out of the egg shell with no idea of what lay ahead .It was more scary than I had imagined and as the bus dropped us at the entrance of the hostel,I had  a feeling of getting caught by the enemies as prisoner of war. And the same was the feeling felt by all the guys with me........some more and some less but nevertheless all shaking in their pants.Myself and the Shahrukh look alike Pravin turned out to be neighbours and all we could do was sit in the room and wait for the clock to tick till it was finally time for dinner.Like slaves in a prison,we formed a queue and started with our first ragging act of banging our plates with the spoon all the way to the mess.We had also shaved our mouchtaches and the third button on our shirt was red, as instructed by the ragging inc.

We were then in for a long haul of ragging, some pleasant and some  not "decent" enough to be mentioned here, but enjoyable nonetheless.As the time passed, the ragging became fun and we started gelling with the seniors and batchmates alike.We jumped like frogs all over the hostel rooftops,had midnight campfires on the rooftops to celebrate birthdays and gave birthday bumps throughout the night while the intricate biochemistry charts and scary anatomy books waited for us to come and give them their due respect.It was a party never willing to end.
And the anatomy class brought in the forefront another idiot of my story...Vikrant Pulliwar,Pulli for short......a lean,fairly tall, spectacled dude who no matter what the time of the day had to keep his hairstyle intact and would spare no effort to do so. Anatomy was like taught to him in the womb....he could tell all the attachments of the muscles and the course of the arteries as if he were inside the body and tracing their path! And there was one more thing which he was known for ..........his STINKING SOCKS! In dearth of any anasthetic agent,they were surely "ram baan" to make a person faint! No exageration there....
Study wasn't easy.....seeing the body with which we were born, in a totally different perspective and learning the art of being a healer from a sufferer took around 5 years of our life.But what kept the wit,smiles and joys alive all this time was the friendship and pranks we 3 idiots had together.We hailed from Nagpur, Bombay and Delhi and once,for the holidays, we just planned to visit each other's house together and see the places too.We shopped at fashion street in Bombay and managed to convince the hunk among the 3 of us....Salu... to buy a short tight T shirt and make him get into that in the sulabh shauchalaya  to flaunt his muscles on the street.When we reached home and his sister saw him in the attire,she burst into splits of laughter and then she educated us that we had landed up buying an undersized female top for our muscle man which he flaunted all over Mumbai........We even have a picture of him in that........

Time has passed and we are now in different streams - Pravin is a Neurosurgeon, Pulli is an Orthopaedic Surgeon and well I became and Otolaryngologist (ENT Surgeon).But the smiles and fun have never failed to cross our faces when we reflect on the past...........thanks to the 3 IDIOTS ........3 more idiots have managed to relive their past!

1984 - THROUGH MY EYES

I was just watching this documentaryon NDTV 24x7, on the riots of 1984 and the story of an australian lady married to a sikh and their life thereafter.When everyone is reminescing those gory days in the silver jublee year of the mishap, I can't help but reflect on the same time in my life.

I was practically brought up in Delhi, my father having moved in there in 1978, following his transfer.We moved into a house in West Delhi, an area called Janak Puri and I still remember the house in every detail. Green and blue walls in the two rooms that we had and a small kitchen which my mother, who is passionate about neatness and order, had arranged  in the most user friendly way possible.We were admitted into a popular school nearby and life just seemed the way it should be with four of us in the family playing our roles to perfection.

It was October 31,1984, and doordarshan was the only channel available.We came back from school and there was a rumour that something had happened to Mrs.Indira Gandhi.She was killed - "assasinated" was not a term very popular then because the only assasination that we knew till then was of the Mahatma.I was 10 years old and only thing on my mind was -hopefully I wont have to attend school the next day.My parents had been trying to know more  by catching the news on the radio but all that they could gather was that Mrs.Gandhi was shot at and critical.

At 6 pm, my father switched on the the black and white "Crown" tv we had with us and we all were gazing at the now very famous logo of doordarshan beginning to roll on the screen.And then the news began and the news reader finally confirmed the death of Mrs.Gandhi.We kids were glad that the holiday was confirmed.But how long the holiday would extend and that it would be embedded in the memory as the worst nightmare was not something we knew.
As the night approached, the mood got darker.The rumour got thicker that Hindus were angry at the happening and the Sikhs were in danger of being attacked. But the mind always thinks that such news and violence are not something that you would become a victim of.And so we thought this would be something we would read in the newspaper the next day and everything would pass off.But it was not to be.
It was a bright sunny day but we had no clue of the dark clouds that would hover on us later that day. I think, it was around 10:30 am when we started hearing the shouts and a cacaphony of voices with a lot of anger in it.I remember my mother immediately making efforts to check that all the latches were secure. We were in a locality where we had bungalows in a circle and a park inbetween where we used to play. It was an area dominated by Sikhs and there were lots of Sikh families in the houses around us.I still remember vividly a group of people attacking the first house in the row opposite to ours on the right............ they broke open the gates and men started running away with VCRs and TVs , making the most of the oppurtunity in hand.And then the angry mob pulled out the Sikhs in the house holding them by their turbans and started beating them mercilessly.A mob has no mind of its own and so they were guided by the heat of the situation and in moments,the victims were bleeding from every part of the body.
In some time, the mob became uncontrollable and started searching for every house which had a sardar inside.Unfortunately, with the symbol of Sikhism adoring every house which they occupied, the task was only made easy for these rogues.In some time, we suddenly started seeing flames rising from the houses .......the houses were just mercilessly being burnt.........and suddenly there were blasts .....loud and ear shattering.......the mob had resorted to an easy way to set things on fire......they were opening the gas cylinders and setting fire.The number of houses in flames just kept increasing......the shrieks and cries for help and mercy were ringing in the air.......even as i write this, I can clearly hear those voices of pain and agony.Also, the sound of bursting cylinders became more and more frequent and we were told later that the Sikhs were being tied to the cylinder to make sure that they were killed along with the blasting cylinders.How true was this..is something I never came to know .......and would never like to know because the devil is not what I want to remember any human being as.
One particular sight I clearly remember, is that of the house of the Handas which was close to the market area being attacked.The lady of the house was on the terrace with a cordless phone in her hand and kids of my age with her and shouting "bachao... humein maaf kar do..in bachchon ko maaf kar do" while the mob with no feelings set the house and curtains in flames........while her wails of pain and fear kept growing with the flames which wrapped their once beautiful house.
We were now experiencing real fear.My father asked my mother to pack all the money,jewellery and valuables in a small bag and all of us were holding each other fearing the worst to happen.We had suddenly and unknowingly become a part of one of the worst violence to hit Delhi.God had mercy and we realised it that day when the mob moved away after 12 long hours but somehow we were left untouched.
We faced fear and violence in the bare naked form........and believe me its not something anyone wants to face or recall.
Time has passed and 25 years down the memory lane .....I see that many wounds have healed......the houses have been reconstructed with no evidence of the damage done.........but the scars of the wound remain hidden deep inside ............forever!

THIS CHAIWALA IS NO SLUMDOG.......BUT SURE HAS A MILLIONAIRE'S HEART!

Life has different ways and means of teaching you a lesson.And for me this time its came from a chaiwala whom I have befriended in this alien island of Port Blair. Its become a daily routine to have tea at his stall since the day I discovered this chaiwala at the clock tower, a prominent landmark in the Aberdeen bazaar here. Its a small inconspicuous stall at a very prominent location. The place is most frequented by the traffic policemen who are stationed there and dont mind a tea to keep their spirits high and keep them tuned to their tough job.
The first time I was introduced to the shop by my good friend, Dr.Rajeev, I was hardly impressed by it.But the moment I tasted the vadas,which had an alcohol like addictive taste to it, my opinion changed.Just the right taste and no dripping oil in the preparation and it requires a really strong will to save oneself from stopping at eating just one. Me and my friend are yet to succeed in that effort till now.
A couple of visits and the chaiwala started recognising me and besides the tasty wadas and hot tea there was always a happy smile greeting me.Unfortunately, I am not the first to make the move in most conversations and so it was the chaiwala who broke the ice in my next visit.As usual the talk started with the question of what do i do. And once I blurted that I was a doctor, his smile travelled from ear to ear and the predictable question of how I landed up in this island was followed by my well rehearsed answer.Reciprocating the gesture, I asked how long had he been doing the job.He didnt exactly remember the years but said it was more than 25 years since he got into it. And then he said with his warm smile, if all become doctors and engineers who will be left to cater to the basic need of food and hunger. More than what he said it was the fact that he was doing his job with pride and dedication which attracted me. He told that his daily chore begins at 3 am grinding the batter for the vadas and the hot idlis for the early morning breakfast. The day continues with the serving  of hundreds of cups of tea and coffee, rejuvinating the people of Port Blair to get back to their work. He has been following the same routine with no regrets and has mastered the art of  handing every cup with a smile on his face although he has no perishable paper degree to certify his expertise  in hotel management.
Many flock the shop for his tasty delicacies but what is different is that there is no accounting of the vadas you eat or the number of cups of tea you gulp down. He just serves you his preparation with a smile. In fact, you can just pick up what yours taste buds demand and as many as you like. He trusts the customer on his word and charges only for what the customer says.But no one cheats, all pay........thats the reward his trust and dedication brings, I guess. There is a strong bond  this guy shares with a panwala and another associate of his, who run the shop as a trio.The Ambani brothers have a lot to learn from these guys because they reveal a simple trick to make the business tick - friendship and trust- two words which dont knock at the Ambani house.
My first cup of tea and coffee was complimentary from him but since then it has been more for his smile and hospitality and  the inspiration for working with dedication and happiness which draws me to my favourite chaiwala. I think it this spirit which trickles into his vada and tea, and brings all and sundry in this small island to the clock tower to taste it, at least once a day. His conversations with every visitor are no more than a few routine questions about the well being, but they lift up my spirits enough to make me move into the next day with a wish to emulate this chaiwala in my job, as I deal with the sick people who flock my OPD.Surely, this chailwala is no slumdog..........and serves more than just tea and vadas!

ANALYSIS OF A DEVELOPING NATION

Its another weekend in the room alone and away from my family (Its been almost two months since I moved into Andamans living the forced bachelor's life) and idle mind does come up with some sensible thoughts occassionally. I was just thinking that India is referred to by derogatory words like "third world" and "developing nation" but  there are certain aspects where this country and its people have made really fast advances. For one, the communication sector. Its been around 20 years since the communication wave started to build and we almost have every part of the country connected with the cell phones now. I am in fact, right now far away from the heart of the country in a teeny weeny island in the Indian Ocean and writing this blog with a small modem to keep me wired to the cyberspace.So, how come on one hand we have a farmer who is commiting suicide not having enough money to cater to the basic needs of his family while at the same time ,we also have a rickshaw wallah pulling out a mobile and listening to FM and talking to his near and dear ones while he goes around with the daily chore.
I guess the answer lies in the effort of the government and also the mindset of the people. Competition creates the best oppurtunities for the needy and that sure has helped in bringing the call rates from astronomically high costs in the past to less than a rupee for long distance telephony in the present. The entrance of the private sector surely makes the competition tough as the rates have to be kept low to make the service attractive and simultaneously one has to maintain high quality of service so that the faith in the company and the product stays on.
Now for the mindset of the people.I don't know if its a world phenomenon or a man thing- but gadgets have a thing to impress. You want to use and fiddle with every new mobile handset that you see. A man may not have learnt the numerics in school but he would make no mistake in quoting the right number of the nokia model in the market. I guess gadgets have some x factor like the females. You may not own it but you will not forget to notice it- I guess that's a universal truth for females and gadgets.I guess because of this fetish for gadgets, every man (who in most of the households decides where the money is spent) builds up enough to invest in the purchase of a mobile phone irrespective of his need or earnings.
Another thing which has an omnipresence is the video and cd industry.The technology in the tv and video industry has changed manifolds- with first the vcps,vcrs, video cds and now dvds. But be it village or a city,all have kept up to the times. You will get the pirated movies in all the latest formats in every nook and corner of India with the availability of the latest player for putting it to use. Its all because of the common man's deep rooted interest in getting the latest with the times in entertainment which makes this possible.
So, my idle mind thinks that two key things to make progress happen are : desire and interest.The mobile and dvd industry are sureshot proof that if we put our desire and interest together, we can achieve a lot.But unfortuntely, the two feelings are restricted to very few aspects of life and that leaves us tagged as "developing" nations. Till we develop the desire and interest in every field of life,we can only be considered as "developing" nation and that is one tag we shall find very difficult to get rid off.

THE TWITTER SONG!

Just thought of saying it in rhyme

what news channels are airing all the time

mr. tharoor used the twitter

but alas for him, all went bitter

using the word "cattle class"

has pricked his life like shreds of glass

tharoor thought it was just a tweet

but his party didnt find it sweet

still dont know what happens next

but mr.tharoor please mind your text!

My take on the INDIAN SWINE FLU!

The thoughts below are purely original (I swear!).ANY RESEMBLANCE TO ANY PERSON OR ANIMAL, LIVING OR DEAD, IS PURELY INTENTIONAL.
Has anyone ever wondered why the swine flu not start in India and how come it spread so fast once it was here.
Com'on guys,what's there to wonder!There are enough swines in both human and animal forms in this country which probably made the flu think of another destination to get noticed and once it was here.... with so many swines (more human than animal),from politics to workplace already on their job,it took just a jiffy for the numbers to mount!
Ain't I right??? :)