Saturday, March 24, 2012

O Nissar, Where Are You?



Has it ever happened to you?
Have you ever faced a situation where you were forced by circumstances to do something which was detestable to say the least? And you had to keep on doing the same, inspite of your protestations, inspite of your severe dislike for the task. And you had to do it week after week, month after month, year after year. And yet, strangely enough, as time passed the task became more bearable, and inspite of yourself, you find yourself actually liking the job! Though, you would rather give an arm and a leg, than admit as much!
Well.....it has happened to me.
It happened to me at the tender age of 5 or maybe it was 6. My father decided that I was old enough to accompany him to the local market, for the weekly purchase of vegetables and fish (Bengali family, right?).  This ritual would happen every Sunday, which according to him would help me learn an important element of household work, and also build my character!
 Now, for kids growing up in the pre-cable TV era, Sunday morning was the most looked forward to time in the entire week, for TV viewing. And my favourite was “The Famous Five” which used to start at 9 a.m. and of course, as fate would have it, I used to miss the serial every time. Boy, did I hate my dad for ‘conspiring’ to make me miss my favourite serial. And no amount of tantrums, pleading, cajoling would move my father, or convince him to my point of view- that it was more important that I watch “The Famous Five” than go to the market!
And for anyone who has not had the misfortune to visit any fish market in Calcutta, to parody the iphone ad.... if you haven’t seen a Calcutta fish market, well....you haven’t seen a fish market!
No one has ever accused our markets to be clean, dry hygienic places and add to that a dash of monsoon, and you have a health hazard! Now, I have nothing against the rain or rainy season, but, call me un-romantic if you will, but getting wet wet wet with 2 heavy bags in two hands and an umbrella wedged between your neck and shoulder in a place where “mud is all around”....well, it’s not my recipe for a perfect start to Sunday morning!
Then there was the daily haggling over the price, for everything ranging from fish to figs!! A typical session would go like this:
Dad: How much for the rohu?
Fish-Seller: Babu, Rs.35 per kilo
Dad:  Thats extortion, max I will pay is Rs.30...
Fish-Seller: Babu that does not even cover my cost... Just for you, i will sell at no profit...Rs.33 only!
Dad: Rs.32 and not a paise more
And so on and so forth.....till a mid point was reached and the sale closed....
And of course, the sights and sounds and overbearing smells of a local market may put most people off food for weeks. But, after years of exposure, one kinda gets used to it, and it would not be too much to say, it even grows onto you.
And if you are in a place teeming with people, you get to meet with people (by that I mean the vendors) who, on the face of it, are quite run-of-the-mill, but prod a little, and their character leaves an indelible mark on you.
Take, Mr. A. He sells onions, potatoes, ginger and garlic. He used to work in a mill, which closed down. This forced him to become a vegetable vendor. It was a herculean struggle for him, to make the mental & physical adjustment to adapt in a totally different work environment. But, he persevered. Month after month. Year after year. I cannot imagine the quantum of mental toughness Mr. A would have needed to wake up every morning and go to the market to open the shop.. But, all through this struggle, he remained focussed in giving a proper education to his son, who presently is an ASM in a MNC pharma company. Every year he visits his son in Indore, and I am happy to say, he travels by air nowadays. He still sits in the shop, and my guess is, enjoys it too!
Or the elderly Mr. B. He migrated to Calcutta from Bangladesh in the early seventies, penniless and homeless. He settled down with his family of 6 in one of the slums for migrants. He bought the shop in the late seventies, with whatever savings he could manage. Every day, he would start from his home at 3:30 a.m. to go to the wholesale market and from there to his shop. If I recall correctly, he has 5 sons. While the father probably never had formal schooling in his life, 2 of his sons are engineers with good jobs. His sons built a 3 storied house, in which the entire family stays today. I learnt a thing or 2 about quality consciousness from Mr. B. Many a Sunday, he would not set shop, for the simple reason, that he did not get the best quality fish from the wholesale market. No wonder, he would always run out of all his stock within couple of hours of setting shop...Mr. B sold off his shop couple of years back, as he was too old to carry on....
But, my favourite was Md. Nissar, or Nissar Kaku (uncle), as I would call him.  Like thousands other, he had migrated from some small town in Bihar to Calcutta, in search of a living. He did not have his own shop in the market, and was one of the many illegal vendors setting up shop on the footpath outside the market, selling fruits. Of course, he was a favourite with the shoppers, because of his cheerful demeanour and for the fact that he never compromised on quality. And I was his favourite. If it was diwali round the corner, he would actually buy fireworks and crackers for me...If for some reason, I went to the market alone, and was struggling with the load of the bags, he would help carry them across the road, and help me get onto the bus.
He had 2 sons, and not wanting a life similar to his, he put them in a reputed convent school, which was beyond his means. But, the tragedy of it all was, his sons were not interested in studies. They would bunk classes and spend all their time playing. This would make Nissar very upset, and he would express his helplessness at not being able make his sons understand the importance of education. I wish I could say that Nissar’s struggle had a happy result. I wish I could say that Nissar’s economic and social condition improved. I cannot. I don’t remember the year, when the police temporarily intensified their action against illegal roadside vendors. And, just like that, one fine day, Nissar stopped coming to the market. Maybe, he did not pay the local policeman enough bribe to allow him to stay put. Maybe, he found a better location in another market. Maybe, he just decided to call it quits, and went back to his native town. I never found out...

But, then again, is that not true for life in general also. You meet people, for 2 weeks or 2 months or maybe 2 decades, you grow close to them, enjoy their company and feel this would continue forever. But, with time they move their own different way, as destiny deems right. But, they leave their mark, which time cannot rub away completely.....
Now, has that never happened to you?



photo source: http://indiatoday.intoday.in/

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Déjà Vu

Oh, don’t worry I am sure I am going to fail.....the exams are 2 days away....and I don’t remember ANYTHING! ....thank god, I won’t need to show my face to those people again....
Alter Ego??? No no I have not read that topic yet....now the conversation turned technical...oh well yes I have checked the definition of leadership......rest all...I guess they are co-workers....oh god....you have studied so much....I am sure I wont remember anything.....at least you used to take notes in class....I have not done anything.......you have memorised definitions of all 16 types!!! I cannot even remember the names of the types of behaviours!!!
Journal? What journal? Oh god...i have not written the journal down too....god only knows what’s gonna happen.....

And thus continued the conversation......

Just another teenager on the phone talking to his/her friend on the phone on the night before the exam? Probably such conversations take place across the world every time an exam is round the corner .

But, what made this conversation unique was the fact that it was between two ladies in their fifties and sixties!!!

Ok...I hate to admit it...but one half of the conversation was contributed by none other than Know-all’s Mom!

Taking into consideration the fact that my mom will never see sixty in this life again, you can imagine my amusement! It was as if the years of agony over school and college exams were floating in front of my eyes!

Déjà vu indeed.

To enlighten the readers, Know-All's mom, after her retirement had started taking some courses in training. This was the day before her exam in her institute.

The fact that, I had very reliable sources telling me that she was one of the best students in her class, and the fact that her teachers thought very highly of her analytical and presentation skills, did not matter....

After all, it was exam time!

So, is it really such a terror? Why is it that the very thought of any form of evaluation or examination strikes terror in the heart of most people...whether six or sixty-two!

I still remember the effect my tenth standard exams had on my family. As any Indian will confirm, for every literate and educated (I consider the two words to convey different meanings) Indian, the tenth standard exams are the first big ticket examination of her or his life. Partly because, it’s the first exam, in which the question papers are set by people who are not your school’s teachers, whom you know personally. Moreover, the people in charge of the education board in their sadistic wisdom decided to make it even more terrifying by having external centres for the exams. This meant, all students had to travel to another school for the first time in their life. At least, for my friends it was the first time.

And to add the proverbial twist in the tale, we had the cricket world cup bang in the middle of my tenth exams. And to add insult to injury, India kept on doing well in the tournament, and they set up the mother of all battles against Pakistan in Bangalore for a place in the semi finals. Of course, we had the science exam they day after. And of course, all our discussions were on formulating strategies to be able to watch the day-night match. The exams were the last of our worries!

I still remember, Mrs. Kutty, our English teacher, telling us, “Don’t worry, and watch the match. You will do well in your exams.”

I could not resist replying, “I agree madam. After all, even if we fail in the science exam, we will get another chance to take test, but there will be no second chance to watch the match”. This was in an era when Tata Sky and TV recordings were still 15 years away...

Of course, Jadeja took Waqar to the cleaners by hitting 40 runs in 22 balls, and India had a great win. For the record, I did pass my exam the next day and did not do too badly.

Then there were the side-acts which made this blog possible. I remember reaching the examination centre and finding my friends huddled together and going through last minute notes. However, one of my friends, Hrushikesh seemed unusually quiet and glum. On some probing, out came the truth. He had got the schedule mixed up, and come to take the science exam, prepared for the mathematics exam!  Of course, he came out with flying colours in the exam in spite of the mix-up.

The twelfth standard exams were much more serious for me. I was specifically petrified of physics and could not stop fretting before the practical exams. Finally, my friend, Sudip snapped,”Will you please stop this nonsense. Now, you are freaking ME out!”
Getting that from the best student in physics was no mean achievement!

Of course, i did not stop my antics there. During the viva the teacher asked, “Is LED a diode? “

“Huh?? LED? Ummmm..let me see...I guess....”
The teacher snapped, “What’s the full form of LED?”                              
“I know that. It’s...ummm....light emitting diode”
“So, is it a diode?”
“Yes yes...it’s a diode”

Looking back, I laugh at my antics...but believe me, in the hall, I was sweating...and not just because of the humidity.

Let’s fast forward to the present generation. Take the example of my next door neighbours. Their son is in the 9th standard. Often I meet the son at the apartment gate on my way to office while he waits for his car pool alone.
But, couple of days back I find that both his parents are waiting with him at the gate to see him off. Why? Because his exams had started...

Getting back to my mom’s exam. The day of the exam came and I was of course having the critical task of driving her down to the centre, and ensure that she reached ON TIME. And I know better than to mess up my mom’s schedule!

All through the drive, she kept glued to her notes, and kept flipping the pages, and kept repeating periodically...”I cannot remember anything. I will surely fail.” I could not help but thinking that she was behaving just like any other college going student before an exam. But, another part was admiring the fact that she was facing an exam after probably more than 4 decades!

But, that brings me to the question which is today a BIG debating point. Do these high pressure exams make sense? Do they really prepare today’s kids for tomorrow’s battles? Or is it that the fatigue of exams takes a severe psychological toll, from which many can never recover?

I don’t really have answers. But, let me give some food for thought.

Every professional will agree that that every time you enter a review meet with your boss; it is nothing short of an exam. And in this exam, the answers are not always very easy to find or provide. And in many cases, the right answers may not be provided!
Or, as any one working in a bank will agree, every time there is an audit, it’s nothing short of an exam paper on integral calculus, mistakenly given to a student of Arts!

So, it’s a scenario which is far more challenging and pressure cooker like, than any school-leaving or college exam. And similar situations may occur in your personal life too, with your wife, your kids and your parents.

Maybe the years of examinations day in and day out are meant to prepare us better, to face the daily examination called LIFE.