STORY OF MY LIFE PART IV-LUCK NOW?

CHAR BAGH STATION

After spending about a year in Bangalore, Triloki was transferred to the royal city of Lucknow. I had always been fascinated by this city where I thought only nawabs resided and lived the life of luxury with the famous Lucknawi tehzeeb and the most melodious language Urdu spoken in a special style.Hindi films, particularly "Mere Mehboob" had a great role to play in my mental make up.

As our train chugged into the Char bagh station of Lucknow, I looked out eagerly at the people in the city. The city was beautiful. There were beautiful palatial buildings and lots of space, and trees. The river Gomti was a beautiful river and there were a number of bridges over it.

I loved the way the people spoke. There was a lot of politeness and sweetness in the language. Even the rickshaw puller spoke politely and did not just ask" kahan jaana hai?" There usually was no bargaining. I was amazed by the politeness and good language used. Everyone used the formal "Aap". "Tum and too" were unheard of. My maid servant addressed me as Bahuji. The maids were called Mehri not mai as we called them in Delhi.

We stayed in Nirala Nagar and my husband went to work in Aishbagh where the Hindustan Aeronautics Ltd (HAL) had its Office. One day he came back highly amused and narrated an incident where two people were fighting. Even in this verbal dual the politeness of the language was not allowed to suffer. One said to the other," Please do not make me open my mouth and say things  about your family members" the other replied, "Please do not force me to go into the history of your lineage."

There was total refinement in the way the dual was fought. There was no abuse, no crass words, no vulgarity at all, and the fight continued to the amusement of onlookers, particularly those from Delhi. Delhi people  too spoke Urdu but the chaste sweet refined Urdu of Lucknow was like nectar to the ears.

Boating on the Gomti was very pleasant. The river was wide and clean. The breeze was nice and soothing. The boats were few and were lit with lanterns. The city had not yet become too commercialized .

Those were days when salaries were not too high. Both of us loved living beyond our means so we lived on the mezzanine floor of a beautiful bungalow on Faizabad Road. Our landlord was Mr. Rameshwar Sahay who was a keen chess player and wrote a book on it. They had a large number of dogs as well as cats in their house. We always marveled at the way cats and dogs co existed in their house.

Having limited money, the end of the month usually saw us trying to raise funds by selling radii(past months newspaper). When anyone invited us for a birthday party towards the end of the month, I always wondered why children were born on later dates of the month. I wished that they would be born when one had the funds to buy gifts which was always in the first fortnight of the month.

The youth of today are so spoilt with money and huge salaries that I wonder if anyone would be able to understand how we managed to scrape through the month and wait for the first of the month when salary would be paid. There was a nice song by Kishore Kumar, "Khush hai zamaana aaj pehli tareekh hai"It means the world is happy as it is the first of the month. Now, even Radio Ceylon which played this song on the first of every month  seems to have gone defunct.
To save money Triloki and his friend used to pool their motor bike rides to office. Once when the petrol prices were hiked, both these friends went and bought bicycles, of course sophisticated ones with gears. After that they both started going on their stylish bicycles to work. 
I loved the names of the places in Lucknow. Kaiserganj, Aminabad, Chowk, Nakkhhas Aishbagh, Hazratgunj. All of them sounded very nice to me as they were replete with History.

There was the Residency which was destroyed during the First war of Independence in 1857. The Rumi Darwaza, The Bada Imambada, the Chota Imambara, and the Baradari. I loved these buildings. It is said that Wajid Ali Shah, the ruler of Awadh was  fond of music and also used to dance Kathak himself. The beautiful song "Babul mora naihar chooto hi jaaye", was written by him when he had to leave Lucknow after the British annexed his kingdom.  Earlier in 1785, Asaf ud daula the ruler then, got the Bada Imambada constructed so that people could be employed during a devastating famine. It is said that times were so bad that during the day ordinary people worked and during the night the noblemen worked there. It is also said that Asaf ud daula ordered that food be cooked for the workers by the royal cooks. The cooks  would put rice and mutton and spices in huge degs(cauldron) and allow it to keep simmering with the lid tightly  sealed. That they say is how Dum ki Biryani originated.

I last saw Lucknow about 38 years ago. I have fond memories of the place and so do not want to go back and see the Lucknow of today.

MAYFAIR

The chaat of Hazratgunj, the kebabs of Tunde, the Mayfair cinema hall with the Kwality restaurant, Carlton hotel, the University, IT College, Kukrail, Chinhat, are all memories which I cherish.

Lucknow is the place famous for the beautiful Chikan embroidery . Almost every woman was adept at this embroidery and it was a cottage industry.

The graceful sharara, garara was the dress of the noble women. Men wore achkans and sherwani, of course only at weddings.

Indeed Lucknow for me  was "Mere Mehboob" in reality.

THE CHANGE THAT WE NEED

Atrocities against women have been happening forever. It is only now that we are hearing about it. A woman is a woman, she could be a one year old or an eighty year old. To perverts she is just a sex object.

Human beings in my opinion are the worst species of creatures in the world. They have hands and brains which they use to abuse other human beings.

Since rape is being talked about quite openly now, we keep reading and hearing about little children being raped, brutalized, bitten, mutilated and even killed. For every rape case that comes out in the open there would be hundreds which never see the light of the day.

Many are hidden, not reported or not registered. Just like in the Gudiya case, obviously the police wanted to shut the case by offering a bribe and making the parents of the little child keep quiet. How many people would have the courage to face the police and insist upon the case being registered?

I wonder why we in India worship the Goddess? Why do we worship Shakti, Durga, and so many other deities? Why do we hurt, molest, insult all those innocent girls who have to suffer simply because they are girls? Even little boys are targets of such molestation. Are we perverts? Has all sense of propriety, decency, human dignity, vanished?

In spite of feeling totally dejected and sad by what is happening all over the country, I still feel proud that  there are activists and general public who are protesting against these atrocities. They are making a hue and cry and are raising their voice. It is only when the public raises its voice, that juggernauts come to a halt. As long as we keep tolerating injustice, atrocities and pervert acts against women, we will remain a soft target. Every one will side track the issue and it will become stale news. The need is to keep the issue alive and remain in the news.

Everyone needs to be sensitized. People cannot be making non sensical statements saying, "rapes are happening everywhere and forever, there is nothing new in this." Does that make it justified? Should people not awake to this barbarity? Should people not revolt? Should we just keep sitting inside protected environment and say "so what"?

These are vulnerable little children, young girls, women who are part of our society. They are not objects.We need to keep raising our voice.

I am extremely pained to see the amount of suffering a girl has to undergo. I am appalled to read about fathers raping their own daughters. What can these girls do? A father is the most trusted person in any child's life. It is such a pity that people have lost all senses.

What is the solution , how can women be protected? What can be done to prevent such occurrences? My mind is in a turmoil and I am wondering. Should girls and little boys not be allowed to play outside their homes? Should they be watched by someone all the time? Should they be made prisoners?

Even if we watch over them all the time at home, what about teachers, ward boys, Doctors molesting vulnerable students, patients?

I think it is not about protecting our women and children, it is about making the place safe for our women and children, so that they can play and walk on the streets alone without chaperones. 

The mind of people needs to be changed to bring about  a see change in attitudes? No amount of protective armor can make a woman safe. It is the minds of people that has to be changed. Thoughts need to be changed. Attitudes need to be changed. Treating women as objects for titilation needs to be changed. 

THE STORY OF MY LIFE PART III

In the year 1970, when we got married and moved to Bangalore, all was well, until the day Triloki said, “Let's eat at home today. Let's cook some dinner”. My culinary skills were entirely restricted. I didn't even know how to boil rice! I was quite taken aback at this demand.  I soon realised that this was not the  fairy tale which said, "And they lived happily ever after". 

A FAIRY TALE CASTLE

This was actually that nightmare  from which I struggled to wake up. I woke myself up and realized that I had not been sleeping at all, this was real life! Elves and fairies existed only in Fairy tales! My adventures in the real world began. Triloki knew that I had no clue where the kitchen began, so he very kindly bought me a recipe book which I still have even after that event having happened 42 years ago. So, I found myself trying to make potato curry and rice. It was success at first attempt. Quite encouraged, I took it upon myself the next day to knead dough and make chapatis. I thought that being a Punjabi, Triloki  would prefer chapatis. Thus began my memorable adventure with flour and water. I brought out a lovely paraat, a jug full of water and a beautiful red container filled with flour. I took out a handfull of flour onto the paraat, then poured the water, and then tried to knead the flour, then added more flour, then more water, and kept repeating the exercise ad -infinitum. For the life of me I could not figure out why I was unable to make that lovely dough which looks so nice and easy to knead. My eyes too were not being very helpful, they were not letting me see very well as they were busy shedding tears at my utter helplessness.

Triloki soon realized my misery and told me very kindly that he was really fond of rice and so that was prepared by him, and we could eat that evening.

As I had nothing to do during the day time, I enrolled in a doll making class which was held in a Lady's house at Malleshwaram. Here I met a Gujarati lady. They had emigrated from Uganda and were new to Bangalore. Those were the days of Idi Amin who was trying to get rid of all the Gujarati people from his country. A number of Gujarati's had gone to USA, UK and some came back to India. This lady very kindly took me under her wing and taught me how to cook.The adventures of Varsha in the Culinary land thus came to an end.

Now, I am a fairly good cook. Triloki, a man of few words is quite miserly with his appreciation of my cooking. If I cook something and ask him to tell me how it is, I ALWAYS get the standard reply, "Theek hai". It is never Good, Bad, Excellent, Delicious, or Lovely. It is just plain and simple and utterly bringing me down to earth, “Theek Hai!” After suffering for many long years with the thought that I was indeed an average cook, I  gathered up the courage to ask my friends how the dish that I had prepared was. When I got enough accolades for my efforts, I convinced myself that I am actually a good cook. Yet I still need reassurance now and then. Therefore often I taste what I cook and tell myself, "Splendid Varsha, you have done a good job".

Moral of the story is “Trust your own skills and do not look for compliments.”

Triloki of course has another explanation for his comment. He says when an Engineer says Theek hai it means that there is no need for improvement. I guess I just need to let it be!