I sat and all that

I wouldn’t have posted this clip, had not my cousin laughed riot and told me to do so. He recently passed his school 12th and is buried deep, I mean he sits on his chair and desk with his gaze fixed and back bent trying to grasp everything to pass his JEE, I SAT and WHAT NOT entrance exams. His inspiration is to become an aero engineer. He innocently asked me why I hadn’t put this one up on YouTube or somewhere. I didn’t know why but maybe he makes sense. Nothing is perfect in this world, so this one.

Putting women into prostitution

If you forget yesterday and tomorrow, and concentrate on today, a Sunday, and this time and outside the comfort zone the society passing by, becoming moderner, wants and needs, somewhere also comes an either uninformed or ignored issue, or more clearly, about a particular class of women, famously known as prostitutes. Whores in other words, conveniently left by the Indian mob to a backseat, not in terms of lack in shouting or talking about, but in sheer quality of what we think about them. In the Indian TV debates, even the best elite representatives fiercely fighting, I mean arguing, fiercely, with conservatives, religious of any religion, that Ms. Spears or Madonna maybe are bad examples our society is being exposed to.

While, whatever, India apes from the west, and at the same time gets scared of, on the TV is visible that art transfer takes a decade, exactly a decade, therefore, staying behind by ten years. Swinging comes to Bollywood in seventies when Hollywood had already left for experiential psychedelia. Notice now the popular Dance-India-Dance hip-hop boogie-woogying, exactly a decade behind.

Or, if TV is a bad example, go and walk the streets of Ville Parle or Juhu, particularly at ten in the night. Next to the Juhu thana (Hindi for police station) or the Big B Bollywood’s Bangla most turns and corners has girls, not older than twenty-five, rural girls, kidnapped or enticed or coaxed to a more comfy life. I doubt their skills in negotiating a deal, also to be occasionally harassed by sex deprived autowala brothers, because in recessionary times in Mumbai, customers are tough to come by, which means more waiting time.

Unless legalized to work, whether they have to (trafficked or by choice) or they would like to, perhaps we all know that it is most rudimentary to respect women across the country who leave their homes to earn for their own, mostly rural women as I said. Maybe as lowly as freedom to beg which this country offers as freedom package there could be similar understanding towards the issue of the right to work as sex-workers. Entertainment transfer across democracies may take a decade, but attitude transfer in next few decades is too good to be plausible. Let us stay who we are and please respect women whatever situation they are in.

Don’t forget this song (Lyrics)

Post Angioplasty –in between the third and the sixth month

It has been four months since the expert cardiologist punctured both my thighs. A prompt response by him at Three A.M. in the morning had saved my life then, and I was and am grateful to him. I am also told that this span of three to six months post angioplasty is crucial, and so far, I believe has been more positive than I have expected.

Leave aside the matter of prompt emergency response service available in Ahmedabad, cardiology services here, just like the other areas, such as engineering - design - governance is affected by service delivery inefficiencies. A better example maybe can be the consumer electronic products market, where the shopkeeper will forget you as soon as you pay him. Three appointments old, I couldn’t get hold of my doctor this time. Some hanky-panky phone calls here and there, a delay by a week and ultimately using contacts in a ‘ther private hospital I could get hold of a good doctor.

I tell the new doctor I have been instructed to be aware of the number of medicines I consume now because of side effects, so in return he said he will change them to a little lighter. Then I ask him to do it considerably. Doctor changed, medicines changed, so body behavior changes too which put me into slight discomfort again like last time, say about a week. And, some good cost and time went in to all this. Waiting in reception provided assistant doctor first. A further wait, could have been unnecessary wait, then ultimately to the main-big-good doctor. In between a treadmill test of thirty minutes I gave up after ten because I had to walk it without shoes. The other test, ‘eco-test’, said heart beat was normal; kinda weird because a stent’d heart theoretically should beat slower than a normal one.

(M)eri (J)aan Library

The May sun it shined. Rumble of colonial fans were distributing cool air in the big hall. All around it smelled of sweat, and in the front desk area, about five of them, middle aged to elderly women sat in a group chatting. One turns her head unemotionally as she tells the gentleman –

"You get mamber-ship forms outside.”

The rains were delayed when September came. The monsoons had made the Town Hall library moist, and the front desk drenched because the roof leaked. The place smelled of nice decay. The Library staff arrived late because the flood waters had logged in the city. To them, the permanency of this permanent job and this shelter has always been a relief. Also, the gentleman is roaming in the library looking at some shelves. I notice him buying membership forms again - two this time.

January - the cold wind from north and the summers of the Arid west, seems are scuffling for their rights in the city. A kid in his early twenties just asked about becoming a member. As always, I told him – “Outside” - it seems he purchased two forms.

A month has gone by. The gentleman passes the front desk, smiling at me, and the kid comes to me with his question. I say, “Why a doctor you got it signed from? It has to be a government officer or a college professor’s signature. And who seal is this? Ok, I will make it work. Got xerox proof of your address? ”

“No, I did not know I had to get one.”

“Ok! Go back, and come next time with sign photocopies. No mamber-ship until then.”

March is pleasant. Only, some gentleman sneezed loud at the far end. Must be the dust, it is all over the shelves.

“Hm, seems all done. A hundred twenty rupees. Hey, why don’t you begin your membership with a new financial year? Looky, if you want a mamber-ship now, you uselessly pay for a whole year when it is ending. Know what I mean? Can you come in April?”

What is an EIA?

It is not surprising that many would ask what an EIA is.

The answer is simple - EIA basically expands into “Environmental Impact Assessment”. A self explanatory term, is a big paperwork and many-a-times a bureaucratic hurdle where the project agency itself quantifies your human project’s impact into the larger environment where it is intervening.

The paper news of ET, Gujarat (the most ambitious of the Indian states), version reported that now the time required for carrying out EIA’s has been increased from 13 months to 18 months. The current total investment of about 25,000 Crore Rupees - which if directly converted to US Dollars is about 5 Billions USD, and in terms of spending equivalence is 50 Bill USD. Most are tourism or trade development related projects. And the delay has sent the developers of the state, they are who have stake in it, run helter-skelter in various government offices to find relaxation from this new clause.

Well, everywhere in the world, the Great EIA is known to be a mere paper exercise conducted and thereafter checked by people or companies or their consultants like you and me. The farmer or the fisher man who understands his own natural habitat and protects it since ages is nowhere in the damn picture. It is now left to the people, incompetent people (in all fairness and allegedness in the case here) who haven’t lived in any natural environment in their own lives. How can one conduct EIA properly if the word environment itself is not clearly understood to them?

Projects struck here may amount to 100Million USD only, and their crudest manifestation can be pictured as some ten thousand people grouped together like ants digging a hole and building something in some 10 hectares of land for next three years.

Surely, nothing like this or collective many may affect the environment, because environment or nature is much larger than humans itself. What one human can do is to cheat the other, or cheat oneself for making his petty ends meet.

One example of an EIA is in a protected reserve along the A92 road in the beautiful eastern highlands of commercial Scotland, where the intervening agency was forced to improve their noisy underwater drilling technology to a noiseless one, so fishes were not to be impacted. Since the bridge was to be built it has to be built -but, please do it quietly. British people are sensitive to construction noise, so are their fishes too.

Untouched parts of Scotland are as similar barren as of Gujarat in India, and both want to attract monetary investment for their local prosperity, and this is how some parts of the world are goin’ to be. No one at these places is ready to hug mangroves and fishes.

About a Neighbour (Neighbor) -

Once one a beautiful post told me how a short story strives to become a word. Quite similarly, this issue manages to become a one liner.

Deadly Trap!

A few posts back I had written this -

Heart-attack is a world-wide disease and event, phenomenon only to be underestimated in most parts of the world; with so called developed ‘west’ being the worst biggest victim, and emerging economies like India walking into the same booby trap.

Booby trap!... trust me, deadly it is.