How can we help?

                             DIGGING to the centre of the earth: In Padalshingi (Beed), 
                             like in villages and fields across Marathwada, digging until 
                             a depth of 500 metres on lake and river beds, in order to 
                            draw out whatever water is left, is the norm.

A do-gooder friend mailed asking how he could organise a trip to Marathwada to help the many thousands facing what is being called the worst man made draught in Maharashtra since 1972. I decided to vent. And then I decided that he should not suffer alone...

Hello,

Let me tell you, first off, that i'm not in the mood to empathize with most of the people i met while i was in Marathwada and we spent nearly 6 days in three districts covering at least 2 villages if not more in a day. There was just one out of 12 villages where i genuinely felt bad for the residents. You need to understand that the region is without water and of course for obvious reasons that's bad but most of the land owners we met...even those who've had to pull out their ten year old sweet lime trees by the root because they could do nothing to save them own easily over 5 acres of land. What i'm trying to say here (giving grammar and punctuation a toss) is that with last years jowar/bajra produce and a more than decent Public Distribution System they're pretty sorted as far as foodgrain goes. Again clothes are also not a priority because these guys are pretty well to do. Hell a village in Eastern Satara, where it hasnt rained in 2 years, raised money in lakhs for a palkhi yatra for a local deity. I do wish that money had been spent on building water conservation projects. 

in any case since i'm done venting, for the time being, if you do have the time and patience and a very very good driver who will not threaten to abandon you midway through the ride because of the bad roads i suggest you go to Kolhewadi in Beed district. The village of 3,500 has only one hand pump. There are no young and able citizens left in this village because they have all gone off to (or might currently be returning from) Western Maharashtra (Western Satara, Sangli, Kolhapur, etc) as labour on sugarcane fields, which are owned by the richest politicians in this state and therefore will never suffer from water shortage. 

 So the village has only back-broken elders and wide eyed and very hungry toddlers. the elders spend entire nights filling a single pot of water from the hand pump because there is no water left (therefore very little water pressure). The average land holding in this village is 2 acres to a family tops. they've run out of the jowar/bajra they tried growing last year. so they are literally without any food or water or people to care for them. No tankers go there because of the aforementioned bad roads. 

If you do decide to go to Kolhewadi I can hook you up with the point man who helped us get there. And if you do decide to go to the village please allow me to make a contribution too particularly to an aged couple who tottered up to our car as we were leaving to tell us how their drunk sons had died drinking cheap booze and their daughters had been married off into far away villages. Those two did not even have the strength  to carry a pot of water. They're the only helpless in all of Marathwada I'd personally want to help.

Sorry if i've made you read a lot of long and winding sentences (but you asked for it). 

Hope this helps.

Peace

Happy Birthday Bal Gopal

Cute, aren't they? (Pic courtesy: HT)

Just yesterday I was discussing with my colleague how while I was on my way to work I saw these tiny tots dressed as Bal Gopal (complete with peacock feathered headgear and flute in hand) on their way to school, looking totally lost but oh-so-bite-ably adorable :) Then I was also boasting to her about how Janmashtami is celebrated like this and like that (I often take on the role of a knowledgeable local before the self confessed 'touristy' colleague since she's only moved to the city a few months ago). In my head I imagined those awesome aerial shots or pics of an entire human pyramid coming crashing down, taken by some very good photographers and published on the front page of newspapers without a doubt the next morning, and smiled.

This morning, a friend complained about all roads to his house being blocked by the Gopalkala groups. In turn, I sighed that in my area it barely felt as though it was a festive day. Another ex-colleague tweeted some sarcastic words abt being stuck in traffic before wishing everyone a Happy Janmashtami and I smiled, knowingly, but refused to stop romanticising.

Eventually I stepped out of home to head to work. There was no rickshaw in sight (Chhuti hai, itte asani se thodi hi milega rick) so I decided to walk towards the main road, earphones stuck in place, first song on the playlist blaring. Perhaps that's why I did not notice the rickshaw that came dangerously close, almost about to ram into me, as it's inhabitants hooted away to glory. One among the boys was practically swaying outside the rick, a cheap beer bottle in hand, making lewd gestures. In that one moment, all that built-up romanticism turned into disgust. But that rick fled, looking for other hapless victims, who might have dared to step out of home.

It's truly sad that our festivals have become an excuse for hooliganism and goondagardi. Sorry Bal Gopal, you might have respected the women in your life but those celebrating your birthday just can't. Pity.

As long as there are dreams, there is hope of a better reality...

जेबों में हम रातें लिए घूमा करें...

Isn't it something that for an industry that boasts of qualified engineers, doctors and architects making it big as singers, actors and music composers, it has taken a movie like Udaan so long to make it to theatres. The story of Rohan Singh, the protagonist of the film, is a story that plays out in practically every family in the country (although not in such a gruesome manner). Don't we all know enough friends who grudgingly went to their technical colleges and not a fashion designing or music or art institute?

Luckily, I was spared the ordeal - probably because my more studious elder sister had taken up the family tradition and followed in papa's footsteps to become an engineer in a godforsaken college in a town better known for its ganesh idols than its engineering college; or because I had made it expressly clear, after seeing my sister study all the time, that 'studying' was not my deal (even so, mum insisted I take up Economics as one of my BA subjects and was a little disappointed when I announced that I'd major in Eng Lit); and finally, perhaps, because my younger brother too took up engg in a college full of sadistic profs (the highlight of my brother's college years, for me, was that he'd wear a tee shirt that said 'I'm bad with names. Can I call you a Jerk?' to college so often :)). That Engg Drawing lecture that plays in the background in one of the scenes of the movie is something my sis and bro will definitely smile about (you will know what hating something from the bottom of one's heart really means when they talk of this subject!)

To me, Udaan, more than Inception, is about dreams... because I connect to the dream that Rohan has. His story is the story of our generation. A generation that has spent evening after evening fighting with folks, sometimes even extended family, trying to assert our opinion. Ours is a generation that has finally managed to break the shackles of the doctor-engineer trap (we still sport the bruises though). I belong to the generation that's so much more sure of itself, one that has managed to make the bizarre-est of professions sound like a cool option. And lord knows its not been easy... Even when folks would agree to let us pursue the dream, there would be one condition - 'complete your education first.' It was a reasonable demand and most of us accepted it. Every one of us has a personal rebellion story - it wasn't easy breaking mom and dad's heart..but it wasn't easy living a choked life too, hai na?

That's where Udaan touches a chord. At the end when Rohan and Arjun set out on their own, we don't know what will happen to them. But we hope for the best. After all, things turned out pretty decent for us, na :)

Rider: Please note, Di insists she wasn't following 'family tradition' and pursuing engineering wasn't as bad as I make it sound.