MY CITY, MY PEOPLE

            January 30th is the day I stepped into this world, and as every year on this date, I turn a year wiser. Ever since we are kids, 'Birthdays' have always been made a special day, first by parents and family and in the later stages of life, by friends. It becomes so much a stereotypical celebration at times that even the 'surprises' are known a priori. A day which is meant to be very special is given away to other people's hands so much that your happiness depends on which cake you cut and on what gifts you get (and of course, it doesn't apply for everyone, just a common thought). This year, I wanted to try out something different from the same monotonous birthday ritual. And so, I decided that this year, I will find my happiness in photography and in talking to people, people who are total strangers and people whom I would probably be meeting the first and the last time in my life. Most of our day to day life is so busy that we hardly get time for family and friends, let alone the fellow people of the city. But how nice would it be to spend time walking around and just talking to people! I set out with this intention and what followed was something overwhelming and pleasantly surprising. And that’s also precisely why I felt the urge to write this today.

            With the plan drawn for the day, I started off with my camera for a walk-click-talk in Avenue road. I carried few chocolates as well. I was roaming around listlessly in the gullies of Avenue road and was observing the people and their day to day activities. For nearly 20 minutes I did not take the camera out of the bag; had to soak in the environment. And then, the best moments and stories ensued in those narrow by lanes. All along this blog, I have written stories that are purely imaginary. However, all the characters in this post are real and every conversation is reproduced just the way it had happened.

            By nature, I am quite reserved in talking to a stranger on street. So naturally, the first conversation I had did not turn out to be as easy as I would have wanted. I stopped at a cobbler who had just started his daily work. Although my shoe needed no repair, there was a small chance that I would get to talk to him if not for engaging him in his work. I took out my shoe and asked him to fix a small tear that had occurred on the rear side. He gave a puzzled look at me (yes, I would have looked stupid enough) and said “It will cost 10 rupees”. I nodded and he got busy in stitching it. A moment later, I asked him if I could click his picture. He wore a perplexed look and asked “what for?” Expected, but I did not know the answer. I said for my own use. He wasn’t convinced, “A photo must always have a reason, always!” OK, this man was too stubborn for a newbie like me. Just when I was about to leave, his wife who was sitting near him, watching my struggle, told his husband “Be quiet. Let him take” She then turned to me and said “You go ahead and click”. I politely thanked her after taking a couple of snaps. She then looked at me and said “is that all?” I smiled back. “Do you sit here all day with your husband?” I asked. She nodded and said “There’s nobody at home and I have nothing else to do.  So I assist him here”. I paid the cobbler and left the place, thanking him for letting me take his photo and trying to convince myself that it wasn’t such a futile first attempt.

             After 15 minutes of observation and making some rapid turns into various gullies, I came to a lane fully occupied by goldsmiths. I was lazily strolling by, watching the utter concentration with which the smiths worked. Something on the street caught my attention. From far, it looked like a collection of old coins. I moved closer and I still didnot understand what it was. I asked the man selling it, “What are these?” “Metal casts for making gold pendants” he replied. I had never seen it before! “What is it made of?” I questioned out of curiosity. “Brass. Liquid gold is poured into these and on solidification, you get the pendants”. There were various designs, from God to indigenous ones. “At what price do you sell these?” I asked. “It ranges between 60 rupees to 6000!” he said. When I asked if I can take a picture of it, he immediately said yes. I got busy in clicking and after a short while, he asked “From which place are you?” I said I am a Bangalorean and also got to know that he is from Kolkata and has been in Bangalore for past 2 years. I saw that he had placed only incense sticks and there was no photo of God or any idol there. “Do you believe in God?” I asked, to which he replied with a smile “These are my Gods”, pointing to his casts. “What work do you do?” he asked. To simplify things, I just said I work in a company that makes computers. “Ah! So you must be getting some good salary then” he remarked.  I just smiled, opened my bag and gave a chocolate to him. “Can I get another one? I have two children at home”, he said.

            I then came across an ancient temple in a yet another busy lane. There were quite a few stalls around, selling all kinds of pooja items. But what caught my eye was an old woman sitting right under the ‘gopuram’ of the temple. She wasn’t selling any normal things that you would find around a temple; she was selling fresh green horse gram seeds. I casually went across to her, bent and asked “How much do you sell these for, Ajji?” She looked up and said, “100 rupees per Kg.” She was too old to sit in hot sun and sell. “From where do you get these?” I asked. “I donot go anywhere son. These come from Mandya, Mysore and other surrounding areas. People will get it for me and I just sit here and sell”. “Do you live nearby?” I asked. “I stay here in temple only. Have been here for nearly 30 years”, the old woman replied. 30 years is really long time! With a puzzled mind I asked, “Dont you have anybody who can take care of you?” to which she said, “I have two sons and two daughters. But neither of them wanted me at their homes. I just came away. This temple provides me everything. They let me sleep here and provide me food. Everything is as per His wish” she said, pointing to the sky, her eyes fixed on ground. I stood still for nearly a minute, and I know you will understand why. Gaining my composure again, I asked “Ajji, do you eat chocolate?” She looked surprised and happy at the same time, “Give me”, she replied. I placed it in her hand and said, “Today is my birthday”. She flashed her one tooth broad smile at me and placed a bunch of seeds that she was selling, in my hands and touched my head and said “God bless!”

            I had been walking for nearly 2 hours and it was mid noon. My stomach started to growl and I decided to call it a day. I had to walk back a long way to my vehicle and decided to do so by moving along the gullies again. A big colourful basket, laden with assorted nuts caught my attention. I took one variety of it. It was too colourful and so I decided to take a pic, as always by asking his permission. I saw that the man had only one eye. “What happened?” I asked. “I used to get severe headaches and went to NIMHANS for treatment. They said they need to perform an operation. Few days after the operation I again had unbearable pain above my eye brows and the doctor said I will have to let go of one eye, for me to survive. That’s how I lost it.” “Wasn’t it difficult for you? And even now, don’t you find it tough to stand all day in this bright sun here with just one eye?”. “For almost 5 years after the operation, I did not work, I couldn’t. It was very difficult and my wife used to take care of the house by working everywhere she could. I have two daughters and I wanted to send them to school. So, I started this. Standing here is not a problem, I can do it” he said, spiritedly. I gave him two chocolates and said “These are for your daughters”.

            I went back to my vehicle, satisfied and blessed and joyous, with life showing me a full circle in the by lanes of a busy market. Birthday now had a different meaning altogether. 

SOCIAL NETWORKING AND GENERATIONS

     We are now in a world where 'Facebook' is more trusted than the face of a person. Gradually and dangerously, people are beginning to live a parallel life, in a virtual world. Anything that is on the social networking sites is being believed blindly, without even minimal reasoning of its genuineness. Although this is the trend amongst people of our generation, the older generation donot feel happy to be left behind and they are catching up with these evolutions of the internet as well. 

     Madhav was a college-going teenager. Naturally, like most of us, he was a regular Facebook user. Everything was happy and perfect in his life. He was a good student in the class and was a hobby artist; used to do a lot of drawing and painting, but never considered himself to be good at it. No, he didn't have any online page or web or blog to showcase his 'amateur' skills. His father was a school teacher and his mother, a homemaker. They were really proud of him. No matter how big or small are their son's/daughter's 'achievements', every parent will definitely feel proud about it; something for them to boast about in front of family and friends.
    Madhav was not the quite sorts, he was an extrovert and had many friends. He wasnt behind in social networking and had developed a good stature amongst his 'friends'. Although his father was a school teacher, he never understood the nuiances of 'Facebook'. "I already have a good set of friends and there is no need for me to share what I am doing or pictures of me at places and with friends. Because, its nothing like chatting over a cup of coffee and sharing it all face to face", he used to say, whenever his son asked him to join Facebook. True ain't it? People of our generation may term it a generation gap, but in their perspective, they are right. But not everybody are like that. Madhav's aunt was a big time Facebook user and she couldnt stop herself from exaggerating everything she used to do on it. Recently, she had even added Madhav to her friends list. 

       Madhav didnot realize that he had opened the Pandora's box. People have a tendency to keep a keen eye on a young guy or girl in their family, and more so when it comes to the things that they share on social media; there's always fear and jealousy at work. It so happened that Madhav's aunt came across a photo posted by a girl in which Madhav was tagged. The pic was captioned " Love of my life!" and obviously, the first thing that crossed her mind was to call his father and tell about it. Without wasting a minute, she called him up and said, "Seems like your son is having an affair in college", trying to humiliate him. Aghast with what he had just heard, he asked "What makes you say so?" She then narrated a spiced up version of what she had seen and concluded saying, "This is the problem of giving too much freedom! You need to monitor him more often before it goes out of your reach". She heard the phone slammed with a bang at the other end and a wicked unseen smile crossed her lips.
      "How could this be? Is what she is saying true? What if she starts telling this to others? I will be answerable to people around. I will have to curtail these things as a father and see to it that it doesnot repeat", his thoughts raced. In the evening, as soon as Madhav arrived, he was confronted by his father, who asked him if what he had heard was indeed true. "Its not what you are thinking" replied Madhav. "So, it is true then! I had never expected this from you! You have let me down and put me in shame!" yelled his father. There is no way he can make his father understand, he thought and said, "You are unnecessarily jumping into conclusions and creating scenes. She is a very dear friend of mine. Moreover, I would never have often asked you to join Facebook if I ever had any fear of my doings, because I know I am doing nothing wrong! And now here you are blindly believing something that 'others' tell you, instead of having faith in your own son!" His father's temper shot up on hearing this. "How disrespectful of you to say that!" he said and raised his arm, almost about to hit him. Madhav stood still and gasped at what the way his father was reacting. A thousand things passed through his mind, but sometimes silence is the most powerful weapon one can wield. He just turned his back on his father and went away.
      Three days had passed since the incident and neither Madhav nor his father had spoken a word. Although it was easy for Madhav to let it pass, his father had a tough time in not talking with his son. He began to retrospect on what wrong he had done, or was it his fault at all? A small thing had blown out of proportion and the silence in  home was unbearable. He realized he had made a mistake in trusting his sister more than his son. What does love really mean? Cant friends love each other and have the freedom of expressing it? Did I make a mistake? Slowly, it dawned upon him that everything that he was made to believe was narrow minded and felt sad at the way he had treated his loving son. He decided to make it up for him. But how? Thinking a little harder, he did something which would be an out of the blue experience for his son.
       The next day around afternoon, Madhav got a FB notification. Fifteen minutes later, there was another and was followed by quite a few within the next hour. By the time his classes end, there were about 17 notifications. A perplexed Madhav couldnot believe what he was seeing. There were numerous likes and comments for photos that were posted on his wall. The photos were of his art work. He was overjoyed, for he never thought anybody would even bother seeing his paintings, let alone appreciating it. And yet, here they were getting lots of appreciation from his friends. Yes, it was his dad who had posted those photos on his timeline. He had also left a message. "I am sorry son. I failed to understand you and trust you. I promise that will never happen again. And oh, I am finally on Facebook :) hope you dont get angry on me for posting your paintings!" Madhav's face was beaming with happiness, and he looked away from his screen, trying to avoid that small drops of tear that filled his eyes.