That Jamun Tree....

The other day my husband brought kala jamun (Indian blackberry fruit) ,not to be confused with the mithai version . It brought with it so many childhood memories. In the hustle bustle of this City I had almost forgotten this fruit. I remember as a kid I used to visit my grandparents’ house in village during summers and Kalajamun is the fruit of summers. There was this huge tree near the pond at the backyard of our ancestral house. Jamun trees are bigger than mango trees and very leafy. This tree would provide shade to passers by on the narrow lane across the boundary of our house.
Like other kids I would also not sleep in the afternoon. Now every time I smother myself with sunscreen even before going out for 10minutes, I wonder what fun was there in the scorching sun outside when I was a kid!! Afternoons would be silent in villages with people mostly enjoying their afternoon siesta at home and I would somehow sneak out of the house to go near the Jamun tree. There would be gentle breeze with the occasional rustling of the leaves. I would stand beneath the tree and wait for one jamun to fall on my lap. Quietly and patiently I would wait for the Jamuns to fall and each time I pick up one, it would be like an achievement!! It was an achievement considering half of them would fall in the pond and the other half on the road across the boundary. I would also wait for the birds to come reason being as the birds would peck on the fruit, it would fall down. Later on, after having collected a sizable number of jamuns I would relish them on the roof with rock salt. Divine.
As I used to stand all alone near the tree I would observe the pond, small fishes in the shallow water, birds loitering around water body and a kingfisher taking a perfect catch of a fish. That time I never realized how precious those moments were. As a child I would watch all these events totally mesmerized. Sometimes I would see water snakes also, which are harmless, resting near the pond. It was as if that was my “ME” time with the nature around. Disturbing this silence would be calls of hawkers selling sweets, bangles, saris and pickles walking on the road. That reminds me of the sweet mango pickle in every household which would be kept out in the sun. That still is my personal favorite and my Grandma would wonder how come some part of it was reduced during noonJ Am sure she knew it was me. The same ritual I would do early morning also. Since nobody would be around I would go near the Jamun tree and that time there would be so many birds chirping around. It used to be a delightful sight with early morning rays.
Today these jamuns brought back all those days. I wonder how many children these days get to spend so much time near the nature or for that matter how many have actually seen a full grown Jamun tree. Today I don’t know how it is to enjoy a sunny afternoon, which was so much a part of my upbringing. I don’t have time to listen to birds singing or appreciate the early morning sunrays. Today it seems as if I am talking of something of distant past. Times have changed. That Jamun tree has given way to a concrete house now. Its there only in my memory. I am happy, courtesy that tree I could observe nature so closely. Today these fruits again connected me to some lost part, which I had long forgotten. It reminded me to again appreciate the small joys in life. Most importantly it taught me to care for my environment for the next generation so that years down the line someone else can share his or her ”jamun tree” experience.

We can,We will

Much has been written about the terror attacks on Mumbai and how the politicians have left no stone unturned to further their own cause in midst of this crisis. And we are to be blamed for this state of affairs because we have allowed them to do so, after all not many can drive away the CM from his house calling him a dog!! After every bomb blast it looks like a series of events. The blast, than pain, than astonishment, the anger, condolance, politicizing the event, debates and finally no solution. Again we get back to our daily life for the next “wake up call”. Apart from the loss of human lives and financial loss what these attacks have done on a more grass root level is penetration of terror and trauma in each one of our lives. I don’t know about others but I had difficulty coming to terms with this attack. Every time I was alone at home, I was scared. Everytime I have stepped out of my house I was scared. Where are we safe now? Like many others I salute the spirit of Mumbai and I am also a part contributing to that spirit however let me make one point very clear. Just because I stepped out of my house to earn my livelihood after the fateful day doesn’t mean I need any less of security or I am any less scared of a bomb blast. Its high time the Government stops hiding its inefficiency in the name of “Spirit of Mumbai People”. Mumbai’s contribution to India’s GDP is highest and we certainly deserve to be treated much better.

The soft approach of our govt towards the terrorists or the resignation of a politician when there is nothing left has not changed anything in past nor will it change anything in future. As is rightly said if you put the same strategy and effort every time you cannot expect a different result. So its high time the Govt DO something just like it does to close dance bars, prohibit actors from smoking onscreen, change the names of cities, stations, roads, Objecting words in songs etc etc etc which is no way remotely connected to our security. We as citizens who have elected these leaders deserve protection. These politicians are our representatives so that they can serve us and they have to be reminded time and again that they are there to serve us and not rule us. At any given time the security of the nation is far more important than a politician’s Z-security. If they cant protect their own people they have no right wasting our money on them.

Lets see from where can we start to make a change. Terrorism is global today so we have to have NSG type forces in each and every state. Now its not only the land borders but the sea also have to be protected and monitored. Lets face it our Intelligence Bureau is weak. If the commercial capital is hold ransom for 3 days and the Army has to be called than IB is anything but functional. Proper training should be imparted to them and decision-making should be made more decentralized.
The entire blame games of inter state police sharing information should be immediately stopped. This ping-pong game of who gave the information first is not helping anyone and that’s why accountability has to be there. One way is to track the flow of information and make sure it reaches its right destination with both the sender and receiver officer being accountable for the same. Strict laws have to be implemented for possession of any illegal explosives. We have to be sure of all our check in points and make sure no unauthorized arms; ammunitions and explosives enter the country. If any explosive is seized priority should be given to know its origin. Until we go to the source its difficult to fight terrorism. Lets not forget in 1993 blasts we had our own people who turned traitors. Policemen should be equipped with better arms than just a lathi. Finally it’s upon each one of us to fight this together. As individuals we have to be vigilant. Every time these terrorists have surprised us by attacking a different target which means no place is “safe”, we all have to be alert. This also means the cooperation and promptness of police to act on information. If USA with its diversity and vast topography can fight terrorism so can we. Each one of us, our police force, our politicians have to make a promise to our conscience that we will not let this happen to us again. Our time, money, people, effort are too costly to be wasted on a bunch of misguided fools who take pride in massacres.

High "Local" Spirits

18 minutes left and still not a single autorikshaw in sight, will again be late today. Finally one rikshaw. Asked the driver to drive as fast as possible(when running late I assume my three-wheeler will take the speed of Formula1 car). Ran through mud, water, gutkha packets, plastic bags, left over food, slipped in between. Oh! by the way that was the station subway. Somehow managed to get the 7.51a.m Churchgate Fast Local on time. It was entering the platform. Am prepared!! Dupatta properly tied around my waist like a kisan, my purse held close to my chest, absolutely alarmed not to miss a nano second to jump and grab the rod of the door..2,3,1..Jump, take right,push ,window seat, yessssss…finally am inside the train and on my coveted seat as if that’s my only calling in life. Now I look around, the train is full even before I cud bat an eyelid. People who are yet to practice on their long jump are standing. All they have to do is stand strategically near the door and the wave of crowd will place them inside the train. That’s the way to alight the train also:-)Some trying to sit even on half an inch of seat, God knows what comfort they derive out of it except for the fact that they have a place to “sit” where 85% of their body mass is outside the seatJ, some are still fighting for the “fourth” seat meant for three people. In between all these some are reading novels, some newspapers, some prayer books and some are doing what they like to do the most…..gossiping, In a hours time you will know how Mrs. D’souza prefers to bath her dog, Mrs.Gupta settles her scores with her monster-in-law, how Priya changed her boyfriend for the nth time, how the new lady in the office is wooing her boss and how they hate to talk about others!! You must give credit to people who travel by local train in Mumbai for the sense of angle, space and endurance they have. There will be eight people standing in a row meant for four in an angle that they don’t push each other even if that means standing on one foot!! Then there are birthday celebrations, verbal cooking classes, discussions on Big Boss nomination, Sonia Gandhi’s sari collections and antaksharis. There is also brisk business going on for vendors selling kiwi green hair clips to Chinese made hot water bags. In midst of this chaos some people manage to sleep peacefully and they will get up exactly when their station comes!! The day starts like this for me.. and for thousands of other ladies in this city. Traveling in Mumbai locals is in itself an ordeal but when the train reaches Churchgate Station all you will get to see is through professionals who mean business, all charged up to face a new day, Ladies who have left behind their kids and a well managed home to give their best to their career. Their enthusiasm and energy level is contagious. Theres no time to stand and brood and complain. Only one mantra..lets get on with life. In the evening they again become mothers, sisters, wives, girlfriends, daughters. They can discuss sub prime crisis with as much concern as they can discuss their “train-friends’” personal woes. That’s the spirit I love about this city. We have every reason to complain about how we waste two hours commuting one way every day in the least comfortable scenario but we bring back home smile and cheerful face for that home waiting. I cant help but salute these women for their courage to live life to the fullest. They are the real winners reporting victory every single day of their life. Way to go girls. Mum-baaies meri jaan!!