Atithi Devo Bhava. But Mr Atithi (CWG Visitors), where are YOUR etiquettes?

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‘Atithi Devo Bhava,’ has now become a common slogan to welcome the tourists coming for Commonwealth Games 2010 in Delhi. With foreigners arriving here in magnanimous proportions there is sudden change in behaviour of our political leaders as well. Everyone seems to be preaching good manners for the sophistication of the Games’ visitors. I even heard that street beggars of Delhi were taught how to ask for daily alms in English. That was little too much. So, the bottom line is that our so-called Atithis (foreign guests) would be a pampered lot during these Games. That’s understood because of the kind of foreign revenue we will generate through them. I understood the manners part but what if a foreigner misbehaves with the locals in Delhi? Is there someone looking into this matter? I am asking this because last week I experienced something that somehow left me in a very bad taste.

Last Sunday I went to nearby Ambience Mall located on National Highway-8 for some home shopping. This mall is in proximity to Delhi-Gurgaon border and is a mark of India’s raging mall culture. That day I saw lot of foreigners strolling around in the mall with their families. It was an expected sight because of upcoming CWG 2010. Showrooms after showrooms, I surfed the place like a maniac. I got tired afterwards and headed towards the fifth floor which has the Food Court and Fun City. Here also both these places were flooded with foreigners. Fun city is a recreational zone which for me is a must-visit place. I make sure that I spend my hard-earned money carelessly every time I come here.  You can play numerous fun games here and in return will get few ‘Tickets’ that are redeemable for some consolation prize. So here I was standing in the queue with my ‘Tickets’ looking for a nice bargain. In front of me there was a punjabi lady standing with her kid. She was standing behind a Chinese man who was little uneasy with the way she was moving.

This guy suddenly yelled at the lady, “Will you give me some space, why are you PUSHING me.” I am not pushing you”, the lady replied. Now here I am not sure whether she pushed him or not, but I must say she was replying politely and I never saw her pushing either. “She is not pushing you Sir and please don’t make fuss out of it,” I intervened. “No, see I have this much space and I can’t move,” he said pointing downwards. To be accurate he had enough space for a grown up man to dance in front of him, but was still cribbing. “Sir, please she has not pushed you. I am standing just behind her. So, please calm down,” I told the Chinese man. “No, You people have no manners, you just PUSH and have no patience,” he said. The lady by the time had now really lost her patience, “Are you okay,” she asked. “Nooooo! I am not okay, you pushed me like this,” he said while making gestures. Soon the lady’s husband, a well-built Sikh man, arrived into the scene and inquired about the incident. “Aye mainu bolda paya hai ki maine isnu dhakka maarya, maine dhakka kadon marya, jhooth bolda hai (This Chinese man is accusing me of pushing him. I have not pushed him. He is lying.),” the lady told him in Punjabi dialect.  “What is your problem?” Sikh man asked the Chinese angrily. “She is pushing me and I have no space to walk,” the Chinese was adamant. The Sikh literally had a scuffle with the Chinese man but the people around them made him go away. “Let him go Sardarji he is a foreigner,” people standing around persuaded him somehow. The Sikh moved away and said, “F**K Y** A** Hole”. “Hey do you listen to that people. He used the F word to me. That’s great. This is how you treat people here in India. WHERE ARE YOUR ETIQUETTES?” he yelled hysterically at everyone standing around.

After few minutes everything was back to normal but I was still feeling insulted as an INDIAN. The Chinese man was teaching us manners, but I say WHERE WERE YOUR MANNERS, Mr Atithi (Guest). He was talking to a woman in a most disrespectful way. I accept he had the full right to condemn the abusive language the Sikh man used against him. But one must not forget that he only provoked him by misbehaving with his wife. The good part in this whole episode was the indulgence of other fellow Indians who made it a point that the foreigner must not be hurt. Can’t he see the good side of us Indians? Or was it an on purpose act to disgrace us. I must say that the way he was treated was much better compared to how we Indians are treated elsewhere in the world. One can read newspapers of past few months for a quick reference. In the end I must say that these Games’ visitors should have little respect for what we are. I know we PUSH, we are little short of good habits and we dirty our surroundings. But that’s how we are and they (foreigners) should accept us like that. 

VIKAS SHARDA

Road Rage, a Baseball Bat and Personal Safety

Road Rage, a Baseball Bat and Personal Security, I know not many will be able to interconnect these three phrases to exactly make some sense. But for me at times these words are really intertwined to each other. Road Rage I know is now a global phenomenon, and for people who drive on Delhi roads this term really make sense, DAILY. New Delhi, the capital of India, was recently voted amongst the most unsafe cities to drive around. Well, that was not an eye opener at all. In fact, I was amused why such things take so long to crop up. To add to the frustration level of my fellow drivers the Delhi roads nowadays looks like moon’s surface full of craters thanks to ongoing CWG construction work. 

That reminded me of an incident of road rage that happened with one of my cousin brother last month. He was badly beaten by five men in drunken state after he had a heated argument with them on the road. All these five men were using rough Haryanvi dialect and had hockey sticks with them in their Toyota Qualis. As per my assumption they might have been cab drivers from a nearby village in Gurgaon who are often on a fun drive in midnight after boozing excessively. These men dragged my cousin out of his car and started assaulting him with hockey sticks. The more shocking thing was that not a single car passing by stopped to help him. This incident took place at 11 pm in night on Chiragh Delhi road. After having beaten him up black and blue they threatened with dire consequence if this matter ever goes to the police. It’s been two months since the incident and my cousin is still recuperating of his injuries. Even though he managed to note down the Toyota Qualis’s number his family member understandably forced him not to go to the police.

This road rage incident led to a debate between me and my friends. What if we ever find ourselves in such awkward situation? What about personal safety and how to protect ourselves on Delhi’s roads? Can we fight back? I know it only happens in an action flick where single man overpowers twenty men. But this is real life we are talking about and fighting five men single handedly is not a joke. In fact it is beyond human limits. So when I asked them for solution one of them quipped, “That is why I always keep a baseball bat beneath my car’s seat.” I knew this guy as a spoiled brat who always had his father’s business as a backup if he couldn’t study properly. “Yes, I know nowadays lot of young guys keep baseball bat inside their car for protection. But why baseball bat”, I asked. “Arrey dumbo, it is handy, heavy and effective and no cop sees it as a weapon. Even in the case of your cousin those men used hockey sticks to beat him up. Remember,” he replied acting smart. This was not going well with me. It was okay to keep baseball bat but how will an elderly citizen or woman driver will ever be able to use it.

But this guy’s suggestion had a magical effect on rest of my friends as most of them bought a baseball bat the very next day. They started flaunting it as if it was a latest fad. One day few of them took me for a night out in a pub. When we were going back home most of us were tipsy after having a few shots of Tequila. Three of my friends drew out the baseball bats and started swaying them in circular motion while hanging out of the car’s windows. They were abusing and teasing the passer byes gave me déjà vu feeling of those five Haryanvi men who had assaulted my cousin. That feeling made me uneasy and I shouted, “Stop this childishness.” After a brief silence I again yelled at my friends and said, “You people got these baseball bats for your own protection but I am seeing you turn into rowdies like those idiots who assaulted my cousin. We are back to square one.” After this I got out of the car and took an auto to my home. Since then road rage, baseball bat and personal safety seems to be common terms to me.

Vikas Sharda

How I Became Superstitious

How I Became Superstitious

For me believing in various cults and age-old myths was very hard. I laughed at people seeing them hop over an open slit lemon or changing their route after spotting a black cat. Women in my locality used to weave stories of someone getting possessed by an evil spirit and getting treated by a tantric. In my own house I was refrained from going out during a solar/lunar eclipse. But the rebel in me never followed such rules. It was hard for me to accept that we are the same Indians that gave zero to the world but still fear eclipses.

I got married at a decent age. But to my horror, my wife was too ritualistic and followed many customs that I hated. She had fasted and prayed in front of a banana tree to get a good husband. We had little altercations in beginning as I made fun of her and she took me for an atheist. But, no I wasn’t an atheist. I just prayed rarely and hated these superstitious customs. After few months my wife got pregnant. The first thing I did after getting the pregnancy confirmed was going to a temple and breaking a coconut. Was I getting superstitious? No it was just a custom, to show my gratitude to the almighty. Sometime later my wife gave birth to a sweet baby girl and I did the coconut-breaking thing again. All this while my wife was happy to see me do things that she always wanted me to do.

Another few months passed by and things gradually started to change around me. I was doing well on the job front, had a descent salary and most importantly was content with life. People said that this was due to my daughter’s good luck. I believed that too. For many days we were looking for a good name for my daughter. I thought of calling her Shreya, another name for Goddess Lakshmi, the deity of wealth. Was I getting too superstitious over here again? No, I wasn’t. I hated people giving god and goddesses name to kids. They were too old fashioned. But I myself christened my daughter after a goddess. Consoling myself I thought, “So what if I named her after a goddess. She brought me good luck and the name (Shreya) was cute as well.”

One day when I arrived home Shreya had high fever. She was just few months old and I was tensed about her health. I took her to a doctor along with my wife. She was diagnosed with throat infection and high fever. Doctor gave us the right medicines for her as well. But despite the medicines Shreya remained feverish and couldn’t sleep the whole night. Next day again she had fever. My mother-in-law called in the evening and asked my wife to do a nazar for Shreya. Nazar is a cult-act that is performed to negate the ill-effect casted by someone’s evil eye or intentions. I hated this stupid ritual. But for the sake of my daughter’s health agreed to cooperate with my wife. My wife placed a cotton wick dipped in mustard oil on a spoon. I burnt the tip of the wick and a small flame appeared on the top of the spoon. She swayed the spoon anti-clockwise around Shreya’s body. Then she took the burning wick and kept it on a tap in the bathroom. As soon as she did that the flame got larger and mustard oil started dipping down. My wife spitted at the burning wick and doused the flame with her slipper. “Now there is no evil eye on our daughter,” she said happily.

Though I disgusted the whole act but this time I was part of it. Yes, I became superstitious. I was desperate to see my daughter healthy again. That’s why I became superstitious. Then I thought, “may be my parents, their parents and even parents world over are superstitious because they care for their loved ones. Yes, may be these cult customs are meant satisfy our beliefs that something other than medical science is there to cure people. Or maybe it is just about believing and believing from heart.” Next day my daughter was in her usual playful mood with no sign of fever. “Didn’t I tell you these things (nazar) always work,” my wife said. Though it can be the affect of the medicines on my daughter, but this time I wanted to believe what my wife believed in. Yes, I am happily superstitious!

Vikas Sharda 

Beggar By Choice

Beggar by Choice

As per the Court’s directive in Delhi, any person found giving alms to beggars at traffic signals across Delhi may have to shell Rs 1000 fine. But I say why target just the common man instead of eliminating the root cause, the very act of begging. I know the government is trying its best to make capital beggar free, or to phrase it better, cleanse the city before the much-awaited Commonwealth Games. And if the Government thinks getting rid of beggars is so easy, a average Delhiite can tell you, No sir!, its hard nut to crack.

On that note, I want to share with you one of mine own interesting experience with a female beggar. Well, I was not directly involved, but just heard a little conversation between an educated lady and female beggar at a traffic signal in Delhi.

The incident took place two years ago. I was on my way back home on my motorcycle after finishing the day’s work at office. Stranded at a traffic signal near Moolchand flyover I was waiting for the signal turn green. Suddenly, a lady beggar in her mid-twenties approached two elderly women sitting in an autorickshaw parked on my right. The lady beggar had a half-naked newborn in her lap and with one of her breasts popping out she shamelessly approached them.

Rest of the conversation goes as below, which I somehow was able to hear loud and clear:

Lady Beggar: Oh! Madam, may God bless you, can you please give me a 100 rupees. I have nothing to feed my infant.

Woman in Auto: (In a strong voice) First of all can you kindly cover yourself properly and stop embarrassing people around you.

Lady Beggar: Jee Memsaheb, please forgive me (adjusting her clothes).

Woman in Auto: Where do you stay?

Lady Beggar: I live just below this flyover, near the red light on the other side. We are very poor people and have to beg to sustain ourself.

Woman in Auto: (After conversing with the other women in the auto) Oh! Is that so, would you like to work?

Lady Beggar: No madam, my husband will beat me up. I can’t. You just give me something. The traffic signal will go green very soon. Hurry please!

Woman in Auto: Areey! You are young and healthy I can give you some work as a maid in my house. I live just few paces away from here. Would you like to work? I will give you Rs 2,500/- per month to work as a maid in my house. Tell me, will you!

Lady Beggar: (Suddenly there was change in expression on the beggar’s face. And with her feeble voice turning rustic, rude she spoke) Kyun tu mera subah subah dimaag khraab karti hai maayi. Nahin karna kaam mereko. Main yahin acha kamati hun. Nikal yahan se. Why are you spoiling my mood early in the morning? I don’t want to work, I earn well here. You just get lost!

Both women were shell shocked after listening to lady beggar’s response as she vanished in the traffic. The women in auto gave me stunned look as one her spoke to me, “That’s why Delhi is full of beggars and filth. They are happy begging but won’t work. Terrible I say.” And I nodded affirmatively in response.

Soon the light turned green and I moved out of there along with the traffic. But somehow I couldn’t digest what I just heard moments ago. I really had to pity on those two women and couldn’t understand why that lady beggar turned down such a nice job offer. Will she be able to earn better just by begging?

I reached home and met a friend of mine with whom I shared this incident. This guy has a cousin brother who is a constable in Delhi Police. He found the whole incident amusing and said, “You see my policewala bhai knows these beggars very well. Most of the female beggars you see on roads are not even moms. They hire newborns on Rs 100 per day charge from jhuggis. And you know they sometimes earn more than Rs 5000/- per month. It’s all about easy money my friend.” That was news for me and I thought maybe his policewala bhai must have had little share of his own from street beggars’ earnings. We all know the cops in Delhi. Don't we.

Interestingly, my friend also had his own story to share. This was about how once he was duped by a pregnant beggar. My friend is a visibly rich guy and he was traveling back home in his car with his mother sitting on the rear seat. He was waiting at traffic signal near Nehru Place, when suddenly a pregnant woman opened the car’s back door and entered it without hesitation. She sat beside my friend’s mother and yelled, “Memsahib, I am expecting and having labour pains. Please take me to the hospital.” My friend has a very mature brain and he realized that this is a trap, but he was ashamed to speak anything in front of his mother. His mother, being a mother asked him to drive the car towards the nearest hospital.

Now, realizing that its high time react, my friend turned backwards and asked the pregnant woman, “How much money you want?” To this she replied, “Nahin Chahiye saab." But after a pause she said, "Okay saab, give me Rs 2000-3000, and I will take an auto and go to the hospital myself.” My friend took out an Rs 500 note and offered it to her. “Nahin sahib, I am pregnant you see, give me Rs 2000 please.” “You want it or not, or should I call the police,” my friend spoke in a threatening voice. What happened in next few second was astonishing. She took the Rs 500 note got out of the car and ran across the road like an athlete. My friend’s mother couldn’t believe her eyes as she watched her go. May be she was not pregnant at all.

The incidents like above are not new to people traveling in Delhi. But what strikes me more is that how these street beggars take pride in the whole act of begging. Moreover I feel we Indians are too sympathetic, ritualistic and very primitive with our thoughts. All these things promote begging. That’s why I think begging is here to stay, and that too with CHOICE.

By Vikas Sharda

The Generalist

I am a GENERALIST. Someone, who looks at life with a common man's view, has an out of the box thought process and can generalize with some clue.

I love to feel things, imagine myself in someone else's boot and then would like to evaluate or conclude. I keep an opinion and possess knowledge of about almost everything. They might call me jack of all trade but master of none. But that doesn’t bother me, as I am a Generalist.

Like-minded and mature, love to meet and greet people of all ages and faiths, who can shake my beliefs to the core. With knowledge in abundance and so less time to share, I hope to make it simple for people who care. So, because I like to keep things easy, I am a generalist.

The quote, "If life gives you lemons ... make lemonades,” influences me. While hypocrites and double speaking people I am happy to leave with glee. Often people preach what they do not believe in, I hope they are not hollow within. But I do not want to overdo things and confuse anyone. That's why, I am a Generalist.

I am often on a Jihad (strive, struggle, resist ... is the actual meaning of this word), to uncomplicate things for myself and for others as well. Life is evolving and I am finding new ways to do that everyday. Life is hard but it is fun as well, as anyone can tell. So, because I know life goes a full circle, in the end, I believe, I am a GENERALIST.

Vikas Sharda