a known 'celebrity'?

This morning I was taken some many years back - to my college days. My undergraduate days- when elections were round the corner.

And there were all those candidates, for all those parties... there were of course, the ubiquitous KSU and SFI, also the ABVP and the famous/much laughed at ECEC. (Election Committee for Efficient Candidates) While the KSU and SFI campaigned hard for every single vote, the ECEC would while the time away under the ECEC tree, and generally have a rollicking time making fun of everybody who dared pass within hearing distance.

Voting day dawned with all of us getting beseiged from the time we alighted from the bus, till we reached our respective classes.The various candidates would smile winningly, and their supporters would entreat us once again to not forget them. Slips of all parties would be thrust into our hands. But everyone knew that the main parties contending, and the main rivals, were KSU and SFI.

I can remember at least one thrilling occasion in which KSU and SFI locked horns with each other and there was a NASTY fight on campus, with knives drawn and local goondas gate crashing and finally the police being called in... Freshly out from convent school, we were awed and delighted at the ruckus. I can still hear the collective 'ooooooh ' that went up when we saw the glint of sunlight on the knife from our vantage safe viewing point upstairs, from outside the lab...

AP Abdullakutty was one of those standing for election in those days. For the SFI. He was in the Arts section while I was in the Science section. So we didn't see too much of each other, or get to know each other well. I don't remember if he won that election, I think he did, but what I do remember is that he was a well liked boy, even by those who didn't like the party he stood for. Always polite and smiling, dressed even then in a white mundu and shirt.

Some years down the line, he won the State elections from the LDF. I was working in B'lore by then and one day when I was going home by bus, he happened to be in the same bus. Wearing his trademark white mundu and shirt. We remembered each other with delight and exchanged some small talk before the lights went off and the bus got going. The husband who was with me was delighted at the encounter and used to make fun of my 'high connections'.

Some more years down the line, I heard with regret that he was expelled from the party. The husband who reads about 5 newspapers and watches about 20 news channels gave me the news. I do not know the whys and wherefores of his dismissal...

Life went on, with all its little ups and downs and I forgot all about Abdullakutty. Until today, when I found that Abdullakkuty was contesting the Elections in Kannur. I was zapped to hear that he'd moved from LDF to the UDF! The Ammamma who was here with us was keenly following the progress in her 'naadu' on TV and the husband as usual was glued to the news.
And since it was good ol' Abdullakutty, I too stopped in my tracks.
Only to cheer when I heard that he had a lead of close to eleven thousand.

He's won the elections with a lead of over 12000 votes, I heard.
Way to go, Abdullakutty! Good luck to you!


Seeing his photo, I was reminded of one day long back, when on the rocks in front of the Economics wing, a young boy smilingly asked a group of girls for their votes. To think that one day he would go on to win the elections of his State!

Ganga flowing on....

D wrote a post on child labour, which reminded me of the one time I employed someone I was sure was a minor, despite parental affirmations to the contrary.

My current-at-the-time maid who was moving to her hometown had brought her as a replacement, and the only reason I didn't send her off rightaway was that I was pregnant and throwing up 24/7.

Just putting down a post I had writen elsewhere on Ganga, in 2006


This weekend, while rolling out chappatties, I was idly reading an article on the newspaper I had laid out to spread the chappatties on... It was on child labour- or the necessities of doing away with child labour.

I am all support for the abolishment of child labour. Every child has the right to his/her childhood- a time all of us look back upon with such nostalgia. But will the government by abolishing child labour, ensure that the child gets to spend its formative years happily, peacefully, usefully? Without falling into the clutches of unscrupulous people, without getting abused, without suffering the pangs of hunger? Will it ensure that the child doesn't see its siblings crying for food, its parents worried over where the money for the next mouthfull , the next instalment of rent will come from? Will it ensure that he/she has a roof above his/her head?
I think not.

However I do not know what the solution is, unless it is one that is too Utopian. Where every child lives as the apple of its parents' eyes. And parents who are not living below poverty line.

The article also led me to wonder about Ganga, a delightful child who had come to help me out in my household chores about 2 years back. We had moved into our new flat, and as is the headache whenever you move into a new place, were on the lookout for a maid. There were still 2 more flats being constructed in the vicinity and there was no dearth of women volunteering as maids.I was quite satisfied with the one I got, but about 6 months into the job, she had to go back to her native place She came to me with a replacement- a girl who would have been hardly few feet above my waist. I was horrified, so was my husband. But the good woman insisted that she- Ganga- did all the housework in her house -sweeping, washing vessels, clothes etc and was a good worker and was older than she looked. When I still refused, Ganga spoke up. She pleaded with me to let her work in my house as her family needed the money and was offended at the fact that I thought her too small. She was vociferous in support of her qualifications to work in my house and finally wore down my reservations.
The next day Ganga reported to work promptly. Her responsibilities included sweeping, swabbing and washing vessels. Being a child (till date I do not know her age, but I wouldn't have put it above 10-12yrs when she came to work for me) I did a fair share of the work in the initial days. But she knew the earlier lady's work profile and insisted that she do the same.

Ganga was a delight to have in the house. She had a child's innocent pleasure still in going about her chores, and a disarming smile every time our eyes met. She was a shy creature, but yet mature beyond her years and confident. The microwave and computer, which were not familiar objects to her were sources of unending delight. The TV was a big attraction as well, and sometimes, when my husband had left for office and her work was over, she would stay on and watch. Not being a TV freak, I would be reading and she would be watching, ( for her sake I would put on Kannada music/film channels) until she woke up to her responsibilities and ran off home as she had to finish up her washing and cleaning at her home.

Yes, Ganga would come to my house on the dot of seven and sweep, and swab my house and also clean up the dirty utensils. (Tue, and Fri, she would clean the bathrooms as well.)This would take up her time till 9, when she was actually free to leave. After that she had to go home and finish her sweeping and cleaning at her home, wash vessels and wash clothes at her home. and after all this, look after her brother's baby, as her sister-in-law had to sweep the flat premises.All this from a slightly built, chit of a girl. She used to make me feel ashamed of myself and my laziness, (for compared to her, that was what I was).
One of my flatmates owned a parlour and Ganga took on the responsibility of sweeping the parlour as well, in the morning. In the afternnon, she would have to go and fetch water from a public tap about a 20 min away from her house. So her time was chock full of chores and it was hard physical work , that she did- most of the time, only lapsing into occasional bouts of laziness. And all this from a young girl who should be going to school and playing with her classmates and doing her school homework, not housework.

With all this, she was the most cheerful maid I ever had. Gradually she started to open up more and more. She knew only kannada and I knew barely some, so our conversations together were a source of unending fun to both of us.We used to end up laughing at each other's ignorance and it was a wonder that we managed to communicate anything at all, but we managed beautifully.She was more resourceful than me too. She volunteered to take the newspapers to the vendor down the road, instead of giving it to the nespaper boys who would come by every weekend- she got more money for them that way, and I gave her 10 bucks for her pains. She would lug the newspapers all the way balancing them on her head. When I protested saying it was too heavy, she would laugh at me and say she lifted heavier loads of drinking water for her home. She would sell the milk packets as well (that money, I let her keep).

I was pregnant at the time and she would look at me with concern as I would puke, puke and puke yet again. When I had to leave for my hometown at the end of 7 months, she saw me off fondly, telling me to come back soon with the baby. By now she had made friends with my husband too, who was totally taken with with Ganga.(She was the first maid whom he could relate to as a person, talk to and joke with and scold :-)) Actually nobody who came to my house was not charmed by Ganga- precocious girl -woman that she was- playful,yet responsible; shy, yet talkative; reserved, yet bold.. Ganga was, as I have said earlier, a delight.

When I came back with my baby, she was one of the most delighted persons in the flat. She was shy initially, but gradually, she started cooing to my son and making these weird noises to catch his attention ( she probably did the same antics with her nephew at her home) My husband and I would be convulsed by these noises, but we never let her know that and as if to prove her right, my son would be totally entranced by those weird noises and playful contortions.

But it was time for her to move on... One day she came to me and asked me to increase her salary (at the time I used to pay her 350/-). It was going to be a year since she had joined us, so without demurring, I said I would increase it to 450/- Then she asked me with hope, and yet no hope in her expressive eyes, if I could give her 2000/-. I was flabbergasted and said that I could not. Then I probed and asked her what the problem was.

The problem was money. Her father was a construction worker and had found her a job on a construction site that would pay 60/- per day.And since the whole family worked on the site, they were comfortable with her also working on the site. By now Ganga had grown a few inches- she was probably closer to my shoulders now, but she still didn't look any older than she did when she came to me.
If I was horrified at the thought of her doing housework then, I was even more dismayed now. My shy, vulnerable Ganga on construction sites! Unimaginable. I asked her if she wanted to go. She said that she didn't want to , but the money? Her family needed the money. They had a new mouth to feed, and it WAS a big hike from the 500- 600 that I could offer her.
I asked her if she would be able to do the hard work. She shrugged and smiled and said philosophically, everybody does it, with time I will adjust, will have to adjust.
Yes, I knew her to be resourceful and responsible and hardworking.An asset to any family. And if the work was going to be hard (probably backbreaking in the initial days) , her family was there to support her. I had met her father and mother and sister-in-law at tmes.A rough noisy lot, but loving and warm hearted and extremely close-knit.
So,wishing each other well from the bottom of our hearts, we parted ways. And my Ganga moved on, yet another dop in the vast ocean of humanity going about earning their daily wages, to meet their family requirements. Proud to be doing her bit to contribute.
Yet another child labourer?



This was in our old flat, and I still bump into her when I go there. She is a young woman now, as bashful and cheerful as ever, and will make some young man an admirable wife. She still works on construction sites.

a lil bit of whimsy

After Diwali is what I am
Burnt paper and metal ends lying in a heap
Sweep them and set fire to them
Bits of sparklers come to life
Ghosts of what they were!
This is what was initially written.....


And then, when thought it was a bit dismal, this followed....
Ghosts they remain
Awaiting Rama`s return Lakshmi`s Glory or Krishna`s Triumph
To burst again in all splendour
As a thousand dazzling suns in heaven!
from the husband.

Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.. even God!

So today I came back early from office as Sonny boy had been down with wheezing and had only started school after 2 days of leave.

In the evening, after prompting him for the regular prayers, I was about to do namaskaram and get up when Sonny boy said
"Wait, Amma, mine..."
And he proceeded to prompt his class prayer for me to repeat after him.
That done, he looked at me and said "Now yours.."

I hid a smile and started the Our Father...

Amma: Forgive us our sins
Sonny boy: Forgive us our sins

Amma: As we forgive
Sonny boy: As we forgive - Your sins?

I was hard put to stop laughing out loud.
Sonny boy, you do so enrich my life, sweetheart!

what? BREAD??

Sonny boy has now(after his Ammamma started staying longer periods with us) started reciting some longer sandhyanaamangal.
He says the slokams devoted to Ganesha, Saraswati, Bhagwati, Krishna.. etc.

When the Ammamma went off 2 weeks back, I decided to continue with the habit whenever I could - if I got back from office early enough to light the evening lamp.

So yesterday evening, when I had prompted him for all of the slokams he knew, he said
"Amma, I know one more!"
I looked enquiringly at him.
And he proceeded to say an English prayer- one that he recites every morning in his school.

And I was reminded of the mad jumble that morning prayers used to be in my own school, every morning before class began
OmyGodwe'reabouttostudyfortheloveofTheegrantusThyblessings...
(I've forgotten the end. If any of my readers remembers this ancient prayer, please do tell me the whole of it again.)

And then I thought that there was a prayer that I DID remember.
And I told him the Our Father...

He repeated the words after me, for a change understanding a little bit of what he was praying for.

Our Father in Heaven
hallowed be Your name
Your Kingdom come
Your will be done
On earth as in Heaven.
Give us today our daily bread...

Silence.

"Give us today our daily bread..." I repeated encouragingly

"Bread??!! you're asking Him for bread????"

"Yes", I hushed him, and we completed the rest of the prayer

Forgive us our sins
As we forgive those who sin against us
Do not bring us to the test
But deliver us from all evil
Amen.

And I threw a look at the Gods and said in my mind,
Ok God, Bread, and some more...?

a friend with a toy is a friend indeed!

This evening, Sonny boy had gone downstairs to play. Last when I looked, he and our neighbour's A5, a 5 yr old, were busy at work in the sandpit, getting the trains to transport sand. Very industrious indeed. Ok. Satisfied, the Amma went back to her presentations and mails.

An hour later, the bell rang. A disgruntled Sonny boy stood out. He brushed past me in a huff, and on my asking him what happened, this is what he had to say

"Amma..... that A5! I was allowing him to play with my trains like a good boy, but he broke it!" And he looked at me, eyebrows together, a flush on his face from the emotions whirling inside.

Said train is a measly looking Ben10 train that we bought when we'd gone to Tirupati last year. A cheap eyesore, frankly speaking, compared to the Thomases and Percies and Ferguses... But then, he loved trains! And that particular train was a BEN10 TRAIN! It was an enormous loss to Sonny boy.

I tried to bring some sympathy into my tone, and told him,
"Never mind, you had fun playing with it, didn't you? It was anyway a little old. You go down and play again with A5, with something else."

But no.
Sonny boy was UPSET.
He started playing with his Superman jigsaw and his Thomas set. (he can rarely play with just ONE toy at a time)

Some 10 minutes later, there was a thud, then a dragging sound, then a slow but insistent knocking on the door.Sonny boy looked at me and I looked at him. Both of us knew who that could be. I let Sonny boy decide.

Sonny boy went to the door and opened it.
Little A5 stood there, bright blue cricket bat in hand. Looking determinedly at Sonny boy's chest, he said, "why you not openin the door for me?"
A not-sure-how-to-react Sonny boy stood to one side and let him enter. And then followed him, saying, "A5, I was angry with you for breaking my train..." (A5 was nonchalantly walking towards Sonny boy's train set on the floor...)"but now my anger is gone."
And both of them ventured happily forward.

Half an hour later, again, quarrels broke out.
A5 wanted Sonny boy to play with one toy and Sonny boy wanted A5 to play with a different toy.
An aggrieved A5 went to stomp out of the house.
Sonny boy was only too happy to see him go.
On his way out, A5 picked up a Ben10 phone saying that he didn't have one and he was taking it.
Sonny boy almost in tears stormed to the door, opened it and took A5's arm and ushered him out of the house!
I intervened, and separated the two, saying that that was no way to behave.
An offended A5 stalked out, stating, "You a bad Sonny boy!"

5 minutes later,
"Amma, A5 left his bat here. Can I go to his house to return his bat???"
Smiling, I said Ok.
Unfortunately A5 was not at home, so the day's entertaining drama ended there.

Where I wonder...

if Sonny boy's prayers are being answered...

Owing to a death and a wedding respectively, the Ammamma and the maid are both missing in action this week.

I understood the maid to say that it was her husband's brother's son's wedding and she needed 3 days now, but would take no more leave the entire year. Ha! Taking the latter part of the statement with a pinch of salt, I gave her leave anyways.
And the Ammamma who had gone along with Sonny boy back to Kerala last week, told me that she was just getting the scent of her home into her nostrils properly and that it was too soon for her to return....
I need to bottle that perfume now!

So the working parents are left all alone to cope with the son in UKG- who returns home by 12.20 every day. We've re-scheduled our office matters in such a way that one of us is there for him these 3 days. Today was my turn to take time off to collect him from the school bus, while the Acha takes over in the evening when I have a client meeting (this dear client only ever starts his meetings post 5.30, and it goes on till 8, irrespective of whether anything is achieved or not)
I rushed through some things at work with my mind on the time and raced back home with a minute to spare for 12.20.

As I stood outside the gate and watched the yellow bus take the turn to our apartment, I heaved a sigh of relief. The bus curves past our apartment to go to the one ahead of ours and then returns.

And today, the bus curved, and then I saw a delightedly grinning face at the back of the bus. An answering broad grin broke out on my face, and I waved.
Two little hands came up waving madly.

And I wondered if he had been sending up a prayer to the One-Sitting-Above, for his Amma to be at home to receive him in place of the maid.

He'd asked me once why I couldn't go and get him every day at the gates. When I told him that my Boss (akin to his Ma'am) would not be happy with me if I did that every day. He mulled it over thoughtfully, then accepted resignedly that Ma'ams and Bosses were not to be trifled with.

But today's delighted smile showed me how MUCH it matters to one little boy (and his Amma) to have his Amma come and collect him. He was the first off the bus when it stopped.
Sigh!
When will God answer a big girl's prayers too, I wonder?