The Educational Drawback

India, as a nation, still lacks behind the rest of the world due to a lot of reasons. Yes, I say this despite the government statistics of high growth rates, the world organizations claiming us to be the next superpower, we being the self proclaimed “culturally rich” country and our billion-year old history. India is still trapped in a number of stereotypes, conventions and thought process which had been developed by politically-motivated or regressive portion of the population.

Karan came back home from school one day and asked his mom about condoms – a word he had come across on FM Radio. His mom slapped him with anger and asked him to concentrate on his studies. Karan went back to his room and opened up his school bag to start his homework. But the question stayed in his mind...

Sex education in schools for teens and young adults has been branded as a tabooed topic in our country because every time any such thing is discussed or comes out in public, either we shun it away like an adult joke or have those cynical cheap smiles on our faces. The government authorities and officials have, for long, avoided the implementation of sex education as a part of regular curricula citing reasons such as “cultural and social values” or because they feel that the content of sex education course created by the WHO is unacceptable to the Indian sensibilities. However, no steps have been taken in this regard and they have not cared to formulate their own course of study or teaching. The apathy of the government can be clearly sensed as since ages, there have been no effective programmes to rein this problem.

The statistics such as these, that 12% of Indian girls aged between 15 and 19 become mothers, increasing cases of teenage abortions, young pregnancies, unprotected pre marital sex and many such health and emotional exertions. The age of rejuvenation and high speed internet connections have opened a Pandora box of opportunities and teenagers are exposed to all types of data, knowledge and information. Television, books, media, friends and the discussions termed as “sexual arena” create that risk taking drive among teenagers and increase the chances of them taking steps in this direction. Sex education becomes all the more vital in such an era of revolution and media, more so, because Indian parents and families are ever hesitant in discussing such topics with their kids.

Proper sex education and training to teenagers regarding safer sex, human anatomy, sexual intercourse, measures of birth control, sexual orientation and STDs is very necessary and may help in avoiding the increased cases of teenage miscarriages and repercussions of unprotected sex at a young age. This may also help prevent STDs and control or decrease the cases of HIV AIDS in a country with a population of 120 crores. In fact psychologists also believe that it may teach the young adults about self restraint, and prevent them from becoming perverts.

Despite all these reasons, Indian education system has not accepted sex education as part of their regular curricula. Also, while the implementation of this path breaking course, it should be kept in mind, that ill informed teachers and trainers can do more harm than good and hence, staff training is also mandatory. Besides, it should not be treated as an extracurricular course and should be made a part of the mainstream education.

India needs to open up. It is time to shed the inhibitions and spurn the hesitation. The ice needs to be broken and there has to be a friendly and open environment where students are free to ‘ask’, at the schools. Education needs to be redefined to avoid the scary cases of forced sex, increasing pornography and STDs among young adults in India. Gathering information from unauthorized sources is not the advisable way to collect knowledge. Knowledge needs to find the right channel in our country. After all, Wikipedia is not the answer to everything!   

(THIS ARTICLE WAS PUBLISHED IN SPRINGTIDE DIGITAL MAGAZINE's SEPTEMBER 2012 ISSUE. Direct Link to the September Issue of the magazine - http://issuu.com/springtide/docs/september_2012?mode=window&viewMode=singlePage

For Checking out what SPRINGTIDE is all about, check www.springtide.in)

Free of 'Cost'...

Sahil woke up stretching his body. He knew it was 3 in the afternoon and he still had no mood of getting out of the bed. After all, you rarely take a 7 day off from work and he knew this one was important. He had to disclose the fairly colossal fact that he was in love, to his parents, before they started looking for a girl for him. He loved being in a second tier city of the country – they were comfortably eased out about daily routines, still there were branded showrooms, there was a perfect blend of history and future and there was less traffic above all. But there were certain things that also disturbed him about these cities – the conventional and middle-of-the-road thinking of people, which pulled India back every now and then.

He dragged himself to the washroom and washed himself up. He wore the stupidest clothes he could lay hands upon. It was still time for his dad to return home so he could probably wile away this time in Playstation games or some other stuff which he rarely got to do during his working days back in Mumbai.

 He was about to barge into the living room to meet his mom, when he heard voices from other side of the door.

“Sarita, your son is such a grown up now... It is time you get a daughter-in-law now...”

Sahil immediately knew it was one of the aunties from the colony. The aunties who criticized each other behind backs and became extra sugary in front of each other, they could actually play the diplomatic official between India and Pakistan. But he realized, there was more than one. He could count 4 aunties other than his mom, from the voices that came from the living room.

“Of course! She is right, Sarita. What are you doing, sitting at home all day at such a crucial time? It is time you make a free account on shaadi.com ...” Sahil knew it was the auntie from the red house, 4^th from the left end of the colony. She always bargained for free tomatoes from the vegetable vendor.

“And oh! Our Sahil is an IIT-ian, Sarita...” And here went the “our” Sahil. “You should charge at least Rs. 50 lakhs this time.”

This sentence woke him up all of a sudden and all his loaf and laze flew away in a jiffy. His ears almost stood up in attention. After all not every day you are charged in the marketplace of Indian marriages!

“You have only one son... you should definitely not miss this opportunity. It is time you take a trip abroad...” One of the two horribly fat aunties said and they all guffawed like it was the best joke ever.

“C’mon Gauri ji, 50 lakhs is not the right price for our Sahil... It should rather be 50 lakhs and a car at least, I would say. If I had a daughter, I would give that without a second thought for a man like Sahil.” Another one said with pride and smugness in her voice.  Sahil could not contain any longer. He banged open the door and barged into the living room obstinately in embarrassingly low shorts and a black vest.

“Sorry Auntie, but I couldn’t help overhearing your remark about my dowry...”

“Dowry? What dowry?” The auntie he had addressed interrupted him looking aghast as if he had insulted her character. “We are not such kind of people.”

“Oh, then I must have heard wrong... your remark about me deserving to get Rs. 50 lakhs and a car...”

“That is not dowry, my son... That is what you are worth... We are not asking for a car. The girl’s father will give it himself if he is not a shameless person, we can just tell him our preference of the brand...”

“Excuse me!” Now it was Sahil’s turn to interrupt. “You really think that is what, I cleared IIT for... FYI, oh sorry, for you information, I earn 45 lakhs per annum and I can pretty much buy my own car.”

All the aunties now looked at him. He had suddenly gained everybody’ attention with his lack of guile and forthrightness. “I have had close friends who are girls and I have sisters in my family... I would kill that ass ... umm... whatever... huh!”

His anger had no boundaries. He knew this evil was deep rooted in the country, but he never knew he would witness it ever. He felt disoriented suddenly. Looking at his heavy breathing and uncivilized attire, the aunties got up and bid farewell. His mother looked at him after everyone was gone and thankfully not with anger.

“Mom, I love a girl...” He said as she was clearing the table. She suddenly stopped and looked at him as if she had expected this already.

“Who is she?”

“Garima S**** ... works with me in Mumbai. Her father is an executive director in an MNC and her mother works with an investment bank. She is an MBA from Australia.” He tried giving the maximum details in one sentence.

“So, she is a...”

“Yes mom... she is not of the same surname, same caste, same gotra, same familial roots... But she is exactly who I want to be with all my life, and I don’t think anything else should matter.”

“I don’t know... this will never be accepted in your father’s family. There will be an outrage; I never wanted to lower my eyes because of you...”

“Do you really care?” Sahil said holding his mom lovingly and looking into her eyes. “I will be happy all my life... I would not have cared even if the same girl was from a different religion”

“Yeah, this is the problem with your generation. Is this the result of your high-fi education? Is this for what we spent so much money on your education?”  She sounded close to tears.

“Look mom...”

“No... Just ask your dad... You will know his reaction...”

“I will mom... I love you guys... and I am sure he will understand...”

“What? That you are going against the family tradition... that you will be destroying the respect and image that we built in all these years. You are just disillusioned by the shine of a metropolitan.”

“No mom... what are you talking about? I really want to do this and not just for myself, but for the good that I will be doing as a youngster of this country. Do you realize, mom, that how deep rooted this problem of dowry is? Did you look at what those aunties were saying? I will never be demanding a single penny from the girl’s parents. I will prefer having a marriage with 50 people rather than spending someone else’s money for my marriage. I will never hesitate in raising a daughter. I will be a proud father of a princess, by God’s grace. I will never be making my wife feel guilty for not having extracted money from her parents or not having demanded n number of sarees from her parents for my extended family. I will be ashamed to drive a car which I will get by exploiting a father. Think about it, mom. Please. This is my chance of playing my part in building of a stronger nation, free of these evils.”

Sahil’s mom looked at him. She had a feeling that her son was on his way to join politics. She just nodded and went back to her task of clearing the table.  Sahil, however, did not give up. He continued with convincing his mom for the rest of the evening. He felt tired with the discussion and conferred the task of disclosing the ‘news’ to his dad, to his mother. He had his dinner mostly in silence, where his mom kept thinking about the fury and insult she will have to face and he kept pondering over the reaction of his father. He had imagined everything ranging from a slap to being thrown out of the house.

He went off to his bed with the hope of meeting his dad in the morning at the breakfast table. He dozed off with the thoughts of his future life and a simple smile on his face.

Next morning, he woke up to an eerie silence. He went to the dining table almost shivering where he knew his dad would already know about the news and will be ready with his reaction. Although Sahil was very confident about his feelings and absolutely clear about his thoughts. His dad looked over his newspaper at his son and continued with his cereal cynically. This scared him even more. He sat down on the chair opposite to him, out of the reach of his hands. Nervously he said, “Morning dad!”

His dad folded his newspaper and looked straight into his eyes.

“So, Am I invited to the bachelor’s party, dude? After all you are doing your part for the country; give me a chance to do mine...” His dad said with a smile and a wink.

***

Supreme Court of India says that inter caste 

marriages will 

remove the difference of our society.

The Plausible Solution...

I am an Indian... and although I don't believe in geographical boundaries, but a Rajasthani at that. I say that because we are a blessed race. We have awesome things selling at every nook and corner of our state, called by the name kachori. Most of my food connoisseur friends will vouch for that and so will my aching stomach. This amazing, mouth watering snack is supposed to have originated in the state of Rajasthan and so we make it best! :D ... Yeah, I am bragging a little here but who won't, when he has seen people almost fighting their lives away to get hold of a piece at the halwaai stores. These stores promote a healthy and unbiased environment where people getting down from a Mercedes behave in the same way as the people on bicycles - it is heart touching to see the cultural, social, economical biases going away in a flash! 

I just contributed towards our economic growth by stuffing myself with 2 onion kachoris. I paid for them, and increased the money flow in our nation.

Maybe someone never thought of it, but this amazing snack is a solution to all the world problems, but sadly, only if we could have kachoris made in every street around the globe. The world would be such a better place. First things first, it will promote vegetarianism, and thus solve many of the equilibrium problems. Also, as soon as the fried kachori comes in the hands of the achiever, they start gorging on it immediately. So, no paper/plastic plates are used and thus it promotes a healthy environment, at the most old newspaper cut outs are used which again encourage recycling. Moreover, the white and black, rich and poor, wealthy and humble, everyone stands in the same queue to get their hold on these gram flour/moong daal manifestations. Thus, it helps solve the problem of racism, discrimination and cultural biases. 

Also, too much of deep fried food causes impotency and thus more kachoris in the world can help us curb the evil of population explosion. Instead of useless and bulky schemes that government devises, it should work on distribution of kachoris across the nation to each and every living soul. Maybe Anna Hazare should have opted to send a packet of kachoris to 10 Janpath, and the magic of this enslaving snack could have helped passing Lokpal Bill. Also, terrorists across the globe should be sent huge amounts of kachoris as a peace message and this scrumptious meal would have helped us get rid of terror forever.

On advantages of kachori, I could write volumes... but it is better to close it now. However, the need of the hour for the governments around the world is definitely to open more and more halwai stores in every area, which will also solve the problem of unemployment. May peace and kachoris prevail! May we have a healthier world!

I close with the recipe of this amazing snack – ... :)

 (http://www.tarladalal.com/Khasta-Kachori-(-Rajasthani-)-3862r)

Preparation Time: 15 mins
Cooking Time: 30 mins
Makes 12 servings

Ingredients

For The Dough (crust)
2 cups plain flour (maida)
1/4 cup melted ghee
1/2 tsp salt

For The Filling
1/2 cup yellow moong dal (split yellow gram),
soaked for 4 hours
1 tsp cumin seeds (jeera)
1/4 tsp asafoetida (hing)
1 tsp ginger-green chilli paste
1 tsp chilli powder
1 tsp garam masala
1 tbsp dried mango powder (amchur)
2 tbsp besan (bengal gram flour)
3 tbsp oil
salt to taste

Other Ingredients
oil for deep-frying

Method 
For the dough (crust)

1.    Combine all the ingredients and knead into a semi-soft dough using enough water. Knead very well for 5 to 7 minutes.

2.    Divide the dough into 12 equal parts and keep covered under a wet muslin cloth.

For the filling

1.    Drain the soaked moong dal. Heat the oil in a pan and add the cumin seeds and asafoetida.

2.    When the seeds crackle, add the drained moong dal and sauté for a few seconds.

3.    Add the ginger-green chilli paste, chilli powder, garam masala, amchur powder, gram flour and salt and stir for 5 to 7 minutes till the masalas are cooked.

4.    Cool and divide into 12 equal portions. Shape each portion into an even sized round and keep aside.

How to proceed

1.    Roll out each portion of the dough into a 50 mm. (2") diameter circle.

2.    Place one portion of the filling mixture in the centre of the rolled dough circle.

3.    Surround the filling mixture with the dough by slowly stretching it over the filling mixture.

4.    Seal the ends tightly and remove any excess dough.

5.    Roll each filled portion into a 62 mm. (2½") diameter circle taking care to ensure that the filling does not spill out.

6.    Gently press the centre of the kachori with your thumb.

7.    Repeat with the remaining dough and filling to make 11 more kachoris.

8.    Deep fry the kachoris in hot oil over a slow flame till golden brown on both sides. The kachoris should puff up like puris. These take a long time to fry as the crust is thick and needs to be cooked on the inside also.

9.    Cool and keep aside or store in an air-tight container.

The 'Drops' of Nostalgia

Its been raining for a couple of days now... And when you live in a desert area like Rajasthan, that statement means a lot. When you get up early in the morning and unlike usual sunny days with sun rays obstinately peeping into your room through the window, there is darkness... a beautiful serenity and there is sound of raindrops pit-patting on the windows. You get up lazily and look outside the window. The roads are being washed clean, little streams of water are flowing down the narrow colony lanes, not a single person in sight except for romantic-natured people in their balconies sipping a cup of hot tea with fresh crispy pakodas. You might hear cheery cries of a few little kids on their small tricycles and bicycles that once decorated your porch too. You take a deep breath only to get your nostrils filled with the amazing tar-damp smell of wet sand and rain, which you want to lick. You see above almost in a conversation with God, and see the thunders and lightening pummelling the embrittled clouds... Stretching yourself, you move into your own balcony for a little stroll. Its drizzling beautifully. Fresh. Pure. Divine.

You look down at the road. Puddles here and there. And you see yourself, actually... an 8-year yourself, jumping wildly into those puddles splashing water all around. Sometimes, playing that marble game with your group of young friends, competing together as to whose marble will tip on the water more than once. Maybe, bicycle riding, cutting across the small water screams on the sides of the road, to see the water beautifully splashing and raising your feet high above. Or probably, a game of wet-cricket (of course, It's India!) with risky chances of slipping while taking a run. Or maybe, going to school in a bus, when rain is pounding the window panes, and you would dim the window with your breath and write your name... When you would paddle across the school ground with your friends like a flotilla of little ducks...
Sometimes, returning home, with feet all dirty with mud and dirt, and for a change, not getting scolded at all. After all, its monsoon!

A Season everyone looks forward to...  a season that cheers up everyone... a season that encourages moms to cook delightfully "different" fancy meals...  a season that makes the dads come back home earlier than usual... a season when siblings adorn the house terraces with self invented games... a season when groups of youngsters are found at the most happening places...

Its a monsoon evening... darker than it should be at 4 p.m. ... an evening when work might take a back seat... an evening that inspires you to do something that YOU like... an evening which brings me back to writing a blog post... :)

It couldn't be better... Happy Monsoons! :)

Truth NEVER Prevails...

I, usually avoid blogging on controversial and polemical issues which create a stir or may hurt the general public sentiments. My aim is to place a smile on the face of my readers or at least spread awareness and raise issues which need immediate attention. However, when the water level rises above the comfort levels and I have a feeling of drowning in narrow mindedness and dogmatism surrounding me, I can't control myself from penning things down.

Yes, Friends, Indians, Countrymen, If you have tears, prepare to shed them now, every Sunday!
Recently, much has been said and discussed about the new show being aired on TV - Satyamev Jayate. There have been closed room discussions and public portal debates all around the nation. First time when I watched the show, maybe my intentions were too good that I never thought that an opposing view could exist to the show. However, criticism always flows when someone sets out to do something good. A lot of things have come up since then. The argument which has totally shaken me is that Aamir Khan is getting Rs. 3 crore per episode for the show! I mean, so what? How does it even matter? Why didn't anyone raise an objection to Salman Khan getting Rs. 5 crore for a vile, repulsive, abusive and obscene show like Big Boss? Why can't we as a nation, look at the broader picture of the issues being discussed and the truths being presented.

Yes, Aamir Khan is at fault - he has hurt all those who have, or plan to, demand dowry, who are intolerant towards love and believe in the draconian tradition of Honour killing, who treat a girl child like an object of the house or those who believe that a child enjoys the experience of being sexually abused. Yes, Aamir Khan has hurt all those states and regions which have been highlighted in his episodes and where such disgusting crimes exist. Yes, Aamir Khan has hurt all those organizations and groups who have supported and in fact galvanized such hideous crimes. Oh yes, he is at fault and he should be punished!

In fact, people have been so naive and callow that they do not watch the show because all that being discussed is what they already know! Youngsters, elders and everyone feels they know too much! We have a;ways faced this problem of over confidence since ages and we have always suffered as such crimes have existed since times immemorial. It hurts me to see people being indifferent towards such shows and TRPs of reality shows soaring every day.

I say, don't watch this show please! And if you do, please watch it with an open mind and broader mindsets. Try looking beyond the petty things like the host's remuneration or his personal life... look at what he says, look at what he presents and just think... for once... WHY he does that?

Today, I really feel this poem holds true to every single bit, and I salute Rabindranath Tagore for such a far sighted and amazing poem... I wish the same -

"Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high 
Where knowledge is free
Where the world has not been broken up into fragments 
By narrow domestic walls
Where words come out from the depth of truth
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way 
Into the dreary desert sand of dead habit
Where the mind is led forward by thee 
Into ever-widening thought and action
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake..."

Getting beaten by the Heat...

Yes, its Summers... the "famous" hot summers of North India... when you wake up drenched in sweat in the morning and go to bed at midnight in the same condition. It does not matter how much Air conditioners you have, but there will be a moment when you will have to leave the comforts of that amazing zone and come out and face the heat. When the temperature is soaring at 44-45 degrees throughout the day and a boiling hot "loo" blowing from morning to evening, you don't feel very upbeat. Worse in such cases is to stand in queues anywhere... with people stinking around you and with sweat dripping from the corners of your forehead and the back of your ears slowly and gradually.

The heat becomes worse when you have to travel on a two wheeler... your head experiences a kind of suffocation in the helmet and hot wind hits you straight in the face. During the afternoon, the empty roads  give you a feeling of post-apocalyptic world and you envy those who are in the car with mirrors closed... Also, any type of "waiting" in such a weather makes you want to hit someone bad. May it be for the billing at a shop or for your order to arrive at a restaurant... you just want to get it done with and rush back in the assuagement of your AC rooms. Although I am away from this discomfort, but still I truly pity all those ladies and girls (and a few men) who have to work in the kitchen in this weather. I salute them for their perseverance and determination.

Although its the season of ice creams, cold drinks, and all other calorie filled food... but who cares! I would give away anything to get this time period done away with! I somehow pass my days in the eager  wait for the moment when the sun will hide behind the clouds on one lucky day and the first few drops of bliss will fall over me... maybe my blog post that day would be much more optimistic and romantic... :) ;)

The Lost Moments...

Its a hot sunny Jaipur morning, when you get drenched in sweat in the time period of leaving your home and reaching your car. Dressed in pretty formal clothes and feeling proud of myself after having looked in the mirror a considerable number of times, I sit in my car and turn on the radio. I drive through an irritating and noisy morning traffic. Suddenly, the sun hides behind the clouds and the weather takes a sharp turn giving me the feeling of the equator. I smile to myself and drive happily humming the song being played on the radio station. The radio station decides to play a fairly old, but superbly famous song on friendship "Yaaron dosti, badi hi haseen hai...". I immediately get nostalgic and get lost in memories of the better times when I was in school. I miss my closest friends with whom I had spent some of the greatest moments ever. Unfortunately or fortunately, I pass by a city's popular hangout joint which had been our favourite spot since years. I see a group of boisterous teenagers standing outside the cafe-lounge, like we used to stand a few years back feeling like the tigers of the den.

I suddenly realize the changes that have come about in life. Ironically, the formal clothes I am wearing denote a lot of changes to me. It occurs to me that my friends have been in the city since 10 days already and we haven't got a chance to meet... each one of us is now busy with interns, office, training and other usual worldly affairs. The days are now gone... when we used to meet for hours every single day, and used to loiter around the city aimlessly with no particular destination... when we went to our favourite (and cheapest) hang out joint on a daily basis and when we would laugh for hours on silly jokes and petty matters... when we would go out for unplanned night outs and disorganized parties. The invisible strands of routine struggles of life have already caught hold of us and we have totally forgotten about the better half of life. I feel guilty and sad at the same time and wish I could go back in time... but that would be a negative approach to things... life moves on and so do we. The point is we have to manage our lives in such a way that we can take out time for things that really matter.

After hundreds of promises to meet regularly on the last day of school and millions of plans that got cancelled because of one or the other group mate, I walk down the memory lanes and realize that time cannot be reversed but what can be done is to bring back the old charm in the new life. We should live every moment and every day with a single aim of creating memories, because as a famous author said, "Its not the days in your life that you will remember, its the memories..."

The song being played ended in 4 minutes and 33 seconds and I reached my office for a new day... but with a promise to create new memories in the remaining days of summer... :)