I have my reservations please!

Pie= Circumference of people

         Diameter of needs

Pie is the root of all problems (sorry Euclid)

I was surfing the TV channels yesterday and came upon a debate on the issue of ‘reservation’ on an English channel. The panelists were a mix of erudite, plebeian and banal. After one particular erudite member of the panel explained why he was pro reservation in a very well constructed argument, a student began talking against reservation. I am sure if the people who are anti reservation today are given a chance to benefit from reservation because their caste suddenly comes under the reserved category, they will switch arguments and become pro-reservation in their views.  (BTW caste it seems is abolished in our constitution!)   It is a question of ‘not getting a part of the pie easily’ that affects most people who are anti-reservation and not reservation per se. When Dr. Ambedkar drafted our constitution, he drafted the best Constitution in the world, given the socio-economic situation of our society at that time. But times change and so various bills have been added to either correct some laws which were redundant or because our society felt the need for some more. So then why are we so prickly about doing away with reservations all together? Even Dr Ambedkar gave reservations ten years. He felt our society will correct the harm done in the past in a period of ten years. How wrong he was! He was a dreamer whose dream of equality for all castes and classes has been sorely tested by us as a people. Considering reservation has been around for so long, why aren’t all the reserved seats, whether in schools, colleges, hospitals, Government set ups, teaching profession and so on ever filled? Somewhere things don’t add up! We are 125crore Indians today, out of which at least 35% come under the reserved category! Why don’t we see the benefits of that reservation today? In fact more castes are asking for reservation. Is there any logic in this? Some people argue that reservations are ok, but not in the medical profession where you require real merit, otherwise people’s lives are at stake! With the same logic, capitation fees should be abolished as well right? Unmeritorious rich kids who pay their way and become doctors are as bad as unmeritorious poor kids right? We, the taxpaying people of India, don’t deserve anything unmeritorious. This is where the political and bureaucratic generation which followed Dr Ambedkar’s generation failed us! They cut up the pie more and more, for their vote banks and for their selfish interests. The rich across caste lines became richer while the poor became poorer. People who had converted to other casteless religions to avoid caste based Hinduism, still marry within their caste! More in the political class want to give sops to their castes so that their next seat in the parliament is booked or should we say ‘reserved’? All in all,   these doctors of democracy are busy treating the symptoms while the root of the disease spreads its tentacles and becomes stronger and stronger with each passing democratic year. The only solution for this is to work towards making the pie bigger. Reservations can and will only go if everybody has enough. Food, shelter, education, health has to be made available for all. We have lost sight of the basics. Let’s get back to them. Let’s tackle the poverty and hunger that we see so much of, that we have become desensitized to it. We are immune to it and it becomes invisible. But it exists! And unless we deal with it, it will only grow and so will our problems. The situation today is so dire that it will take many hundreds of years to correct. But it is never impossible. A dream can be achieved if it is dreamt of in the first place. So let’s all dream of making our country so self sufficient and viable that the need for reservation won’t exist. Maybe then, Dr Ambedkar’s true dream of a casteless, equal India will finally come true! Please will the political class stop seeing nightmares and making them our reality? Please let them dream right! Otherwise we will have 100% reservation and yet no one will be able to eat the pie!

An elephant ride to remember!

      On our third day into the absolutely spectacular holiday at the Club Mahindra resort in Corbett we decided to take an elephant ride into the Sitabani reserve forest. Legend has it that Sita lived here when she was pregnant with Luv and Kush and since the jungle didn’t have much to offer in terms of comforts and nutritious foods, the forest obliged with a stream of three components- milk, water and honey. Unlike the other forests where open gypsies are able to navigate, the Sitabani is impossible to navigate by road, because there isn’t any. So the only way to go into it and maybe spot the elusive tiger is to ride on another creature of the wild- the elephant. Our time for the elephant ride was 3pm to 5pm, a time when animals come to the water hole to drink before dark sets in. We had heard that a tiger with his kill was spotted the previous afternoon. But instead of photographing this precious event for posterity, one of the women taking that ride had fainted with fear and the rest got busy reviving her so that she didn’t fall from the elephant and end up being the Tiger’s breakfast! Talk of a wasted opportunity! And so the four of us (only four on an elephant) went to Dhikuli, a place from where we would embark on this adventure.

        We chose a nice, tall, healthy looking elephant called ‘Laadli’. The name, usually reserved for sweet little girls seemed quite incongruous with the elephant’s size. Maybe she was a young elephant? The mahout said she was about 50 which was quite old even for an elephant! We were made to sit on a ‘machaan’ or wooden block tied to Laadli’s back like a saddle. The four of us had to sit two on each side, with our feet dangling along her flanks. Not the best of positions to be sitting in for the next two hours. But for the likes of us who get tossed around in and out of potholes in Mumbai everyday, this was a piece of cake. And so once we settled down, our journey began.

        The mahout would prod Laadli on the head with grunts of what sounded like ‘haggadh’- which must mean ‘move along’ in elephant language. Our trepidation soon gave way to excitement and exhilaration. I felt like a kid on a Ferris wheel or one with an unlimited supply of chocolates and ice creams. The fresh, cool wind was whipping my face and the Sun was playing hide and seek among the trees. I felt quite majestic looking down on most houses and people.  One of the things that impressed me was the relationship the mahout shared with Laadli. He would sometimes chat with her like an old friend, sometimes cajole her like a desperate boyfriend and sometimes chide her like a parent. It was a unique, symbiotic relationship. The mahout told us that Laadli was part of a circus for 25 years before she was brought here and she had been with him ever since, for the last 10 years. He stayed away from his family in Ghaziabad, so Laadli was family to him.

        We came to the point where we had to cross the Kosi river. The descent looked steep and narrow and we were quite worried how Laadli would be able to do the descent without toppling over. But it was amazing how Laadli managed to do it gracefully, goaded delicately by the mahout. And even though we were at an incredibly daunting angle, we felt very comfortable. We were quite happy to be right side up again, though. The river was very shallow but we could see the dangerous currents quite clearly. We were struck by the beauty of the miles of white stones along both banks, formed by centuries of differing tides and weather. Meanwhile, Laadli didn’t want to move on but wanted to play in the water and relieve herself. We reached the other bank only after a lot of gentle coaxing. On the other side we were told to keep quiet as we were entering the main forest area. That was quite a feat for the four of us, who could easily put a gaggle of geese to shame with the racket we make talking to each other incessantly. Our topics of discussion seamless and never ending, like the flow of the Kosi.

      When the dense forest enveloped us and even Laadli looked small among the tall, thick trees we stayed silent out of the awe and respect we felt for nature. It also scared us a bit. After all if something untoward happened to us at that time, nobody would be able to help or even reach us in this amazing maze of trees. Laadli had no such fears. She ripped through anything in her way making her own path. I felt pity for all the majestic, wild creatures which were kept caged and tied in zoos and circuses for our entertainment. This is where they all belonged. It was also amazing to see the agility Laadli had in her movements. My friend Manisha’s cap got caught in a branch and fell down. We thought it was as good as lost- a piece of civilization left behind in the wild. But our mahout wouldn’t hear of it. He made Laadli turn 180 degrees at a very sharp angle to retrieve the cap. She picked up the cap with her trunk and flicked it back into the mahout’s hands with élan. We were a strange bunch, clapping softly in the middle of a forest at an elephant which had performed a smooth circus trick! Laadli was manoeuvred back 180 degrees to get onto our previous route. [ SUV  makers should study the ‘elephant model’ to get the impossible U turn Laadli had made in such minimal space with such a huge body !]

       We went ahead. Time almost stood still and the silence was serene. We saw the skeletal remains of the tiger’s kill, left over from the previous evening; a skeletal head of a Sambhar on a tree, quite likely a Leopard’s prey. We spotted a large brown owl sleeping on a branch of a tree. It opened its eyes just enough to give us a cursory glance and then went back to the more important task of catching its twenty winks.  We saw many deer with beautiful eyes filled with sadness and fear, constantly aware of the dangers around. The mahout philosophized that God had created some creatures only to be killed by others; they was no joy in their lives. Profound! But sadly, the wonderful creatures which were created to kill these wonderful creatures, were being hounded and killed by God’s worst creation!

       We were nearly at the end of our two hours in the forest when we spotted two huge Sambhars near the bank of the Kosi. We decided to stay with them for a bit. The Sun was nearly about to set. A beautiful light spread across the river banks. Undeterred by our presence, the Sambhar frolicked in the water. It had no worries which meant the Tiger was not near. But we didn’t mind not spotting a tiger. We were just happy to exist in that space, for that time, witnessing nature at its best. Our being doctors, actors, singers or anything we had acquired, didn’t matter. We had a sense of profound peace. I, for one, have never experienced such a one-ness with the supreme being in any temple, church, gurudwara or dargah. We reluctantly went back to Dhikuli not wanting the ride to stop. Laadli gave us a royal salute at the end of our journey. We wished the mahout well and went back to our resort.

      Whenever I feel the city stress I shut my eyes and allow the mahout’s voice to come back; ‘haggadh, haggadh’ And Laadli’s on her way! I carry this piece of forest with me…. always.

HINDSIGHT

        Why doesn’t technology create hindsight?  People with foresight have obviously failed. They have failed to gauge the depths of violence, corruption, greed, depravity, lust that human beings can fall to. Power corrupts in so many ways. We have seen the corruption in polity, bureaucracy, judiciary, the police force and even the defence forces. The big fish always eat the small fish. Any ray of hope is squashed by internal bickering and fighting over /for power.

        The mass movement which started in August is concentrating on by polls. A key member in that movement obviously has aspirations other than the cause of the people. Others are dropping out of the team. The head of the team, a man of impeccable honour should not go the ‘Dogsborough way’ (a reference to the absolutely chilling masterpiece by Brecht “The resistible rise of Arturo Ui”).

        Karl Marx set out to create a world where all men were equal. George Orwell showed how ‘some men were more equal than others’ even within the framework of equality. Today our very friendly neighbour, whose cheap goods flood our market, is as corrupt as us. The only difference is that things of great quality are made in spite of the corruption. The people there still have a sense of pride in their work.

       Meanwhile an old politician with prime ministerial aspirations is out on another chariot. This time he promises a corruption free India. Really? Is he serious? If only he would concentrate on some of the things his colleagues have been busy doing, 1/4^th the corruption could have been controlled. The other 3/4ths is of course in the hands of our ruling party and its allies. There’s no cure for that! The corruption levels will in fact shoot up because everybody would want to fill their pockets before the next general elections. After all they are going to find it really tough trying to come back to power. They would require a lot of funds for horse trading!

      Rabindranath Tagore wrote “where the mind is without fear” with the absolute belief that that time will come soon. Today children recite the poem apathetically waiting for the next terror strike.

      John Lennon wrote “Imagine there’s no country” in the hope that his dream would be a reality before he passed away. Today there are more countries than before.

      Would Hitler have been different with hindsight? Or would he have been worse?

He would have used it to his advantage. Maybe hindsight would make everyone worse! It’s a good thing hindsight comes last!

"Bad luck hi kharaab hai" or the return of the prodigal Pajero

The story of my stolen Pajero is really old hat; but interesting all the same. Friends still want to know what happened and how we got our Pajero back. We’ve got it back! What a relief!! Getting it back was quite an adventure. Easier for us because we’re privileged because of our celebrity status and used our contacts with the ‘higher-ups’ who pressurised the police. There are 475 Pajeros which have still not been traced. So let’s start at the very beginning. On the 3^rd of May at around 7 in the morning my building watchman asked me whether I had sent my Pajero with my driver and I said I hadn’t. He said with a deadpan expression that it must have been stolen then. Sure enough, the gate to our building compound was wide open, with no traces of a lock on it. And our red and white Pajero which occupied most of the place in the compound wasn’t there anymore. My husband, who was going to Wai for a shooting, delayed his going and we rushed to the police station. Our rush was quite unnecessary, I realised, because our police were in no hurry at all. First, the policeman on night duty was woken up by us, a crime more severe than the theft of a Pajero. So the inspector looked at us accusingly throughout. We, the stealers of his sleep, were not to be forgiven. Then followed a bit of a debate about which of the two inspectors would take down our FIR. Then the one who got tired of the charade first pulled out the register reluctantly. He asked a junior officer to clean the desk thoroughly, taking up another 20 minutes. The Pajero had gone for a good 2 or perhaps 3 hours till then. It could have been in Gujarat already! The inspector began writing out the FIR painfully, painstakingly. He kept on referring to the police manual for suitable phrases to describe the theft, translating what I was saying in simple Marathi into an unrecognisable language. The FIR took two hours to write. Half an hour into it, I ventured to ask whether sending out some sort of alert to all check posts would be a good idea and would perhaps increase our chances of getting our car back! The policeman looked as if he would have liked to put me in the lock up for the crime of suggesting something remotely connected to solving the crime. He said looking at me angrily, with eyes still dull with the interrupted sleep, “FIR aadhi, mag pudhchi kaarvaai”. Meaning literally, “FIR first, then the next procedure”. And so, the ‘next procedure’ only began two and a half hours after we had stepped into the police station; and possibly five hours after our Pajero was stolen. The ‘next procedure’ was of course the aforementioned alert that had to be sent out. This included all the details of the car, especially the chassis number and engine number. There was a minor discussion of about 20 minutes to decide where this call was to be made. Then a 10 minute search for the required number. Then another wait of 45 minutes, because the number was not reachable. And so a lot of time had been given to the thieves to escape and cross the border of Maharashtra into either Gujarat or Madhya Pradesh. Then the shift changed, a new set of policeman had come by then and had to be filled in on what our case was. After awhile they sent two hawaldars with us to take down notes from the scene of the crime as well as round up the usual suspects….watchmen, drivers etc. We trust our drivers since they’ve been with us for many years; so we began trying to save them from getting a thrashing from the police. They were let off with a few rounds of slaps and ‘dandaas’ because of our interference. In the days that followed a new set of hawaldars would come sincerely to our compound and stare at the place where our car was parked, as if that empty space would be coaxed into giving the description of the thieves just by looking at it intently for half an hour. They also asked the same set of people, including me, the same questions over and over again as if they expected different, creative answers each time. And so we lost hope of ever retrieving our car. We made a fuss in the press, in the hope that someone somewhere might spot the car and let us know. We also called up some ‘higher ups’ in the political class who happily put a lot of pressure on the police. But nearly a month went by and we had no word of any progress. Then one day I was sitting in CCD sipping coffee when my phone rang and an Inspector from Jalpaigurhi, West Bengal called to ask whether I owned a Pajero which was stolen! My joy knew no bounds. I couldn’t believe that the car was found. The police from Jalpaigurhi had impounded the car for lack of documents when it was coming into India from Bhutan. The thieves who were caught were the fourth pair in the chain of thieves. They had crossed over to Bhutan because diesel is cheaper there than in India. We’ve always been told, “Laalach buri balaa hai”, but the thieves obviously hadn’t heard of that. So now that we knew where the car was, we had to begin the process of getting it back. Not only was a police team from Mumbai sent off to get the car back, but also get the thieves, against whom a complaint would be registered in Mumbai. So a posse of policeman left Mumbai for Jalpaigurhi ‘fully loaded’ with ‘all’ essentials. If you are thinking that this happened quite smoothly you are quite wrong! We happened to know a DIG in Kolkatta who expedited the process and coordinated with the Mumbai police, who overworked with festival duty, VIP duties and the burden of accepting bribes every two minutes; are always less than keen to do anything quickly! Mini celebrations had already begun at home in anticipation of the prodigal Pajero. The Pajero, the police and the thieves (handcuffed to two policemen) were having mini adventures of their own. The Jalpaigurhi police and court worked at a speed we are not used to back in Mumbai. The Mumbai police reached Jalpaigurhi and were handed over the car and thieves within a span of two days. They left for Kolkatta immediately from where the police team would split in two; one team would drive the Pajero back and the other would get the the thieves (handcuffed to them), by train. But before reaching Kolkatta, the police and thieves were nearly ambushed and killed by naxalites in the forests of West Bengal. Only driving like crazy, away from the raging guns and the excellent condition of our car saved the travellers in the car. Observe how the police had to flee. The visual makes for a good R K Laxman comic strip! Finally reaching Kolkatta the police and the thieves dined and stayed in a hotel room where they almost became friends because of their proximity. Life’s a great leveller! Turned out one of them was a Nepali national and the other a member of RJD ( Laloo’s party) from Patna (why am I not surprised!!!). Finally after a month of the car being taken away, it was brought back safely to Mumbai and kept at the Versova police station. My husband went over to see the car and what condition it was in. Two people handcuffed to some policeman greeted him with folded hands while passing by. The policeman introduced my husband to the thieves of our car and they told my husband how much they loved his acting in films and on TV. My husband found himself treating them like any other fans and only stopped himself from taking a photo when he remembered that they were the cause of quite a lot of grief for us. Now if you think that we would have got our car back soon, you are wrong! If the Mumbai police are reluctant to solve and wrap up cases; our courts take the cake, biscuit and all confectionaries put together in trying to keep cases from being solved. First, I was asked to appear in the railway court in Andheri , before a judge, to identify myself as the owner of the car. The lady judge told me very politely that I needn’t appear in court henceforth till the case against the thieves doesn’t come up, which is when I would be required as a witness. After ten days the judge had been shunted off to some other court and another judge had taken over. Instead of starting off from where the previous judge had left, he started from the beginning of each case, hoping to make money I guess! So the next time my case came up in court the new judge reprimanded my advocate for not getting me along and so another date 15 days later was given. Meanwhile my husband was a regular at Versova police station. He would go there, take a good look at our car, share some chai with whoever was on duty and then come back. The car was being washed and looked after extremely well. We were also updated on how our car was stolen in the first place. The police told us the names of two men who worked for a big gang, who were professional Pajero lock openers. They were in demand because they hacked the locking system with their laptops! We asked the police if they would be arrested as well, since they have all the details with them. The police laughed and said that that just wouldn’t be possible since they were a part of a very big and successful gang. As if that absolved them of all their crimes! I was left wondering why that should be a reason NOT to arrest them! In fact, wouldn’t this be a good chance to bust the gang! Obviously not in Mumbai! A lot of police palms and political palms are greased by big gangs which are then allowed to conduct their nefarious activities peacefully while the peace of the poor common citizens of Mumbai is robbed. The next time I appeared in court, the judge who refused to budge 15 days ago, looked at me with disdain (as if I was the one who had stolen my own car) and dismissed my presence with quick flicks of his wrist, the way we shoo away crows! He proceeded to reprimand my advocate for bringing me unnecessarily and promptly gave another date. This oscillation in his behaviour left us flabbergasted! I could hear Sunny Deol’s voice going “taareekh pey taareekh, taareekh pey taareekh” and completely identified with it. We realised the judge wanted some kickback. But I do not bribe, I do not like bribes, I do not give bribes! I decided I’ll wait for my car forever but won’t bribe this ‘blot- on- the- judicial system’ judge! And so it was that many appearances, non appearances, date postponements happened; till the judge realised he’s not going to get anything out of us and he might as well hand over the car. Finally, after a month in the Versova police station our car was handed over to us. Something which the Jalpaigurhi courts did within a day, our Mumbai courts took a full month. No wonder our cases continue forever. The Pajero came home with much fanfare, but the post script of the court story still remains! The trial against our thieves began about 20 days after we got our Pajero home. I had to appear as a witness. I reached at the time that was given to me. The thieves were to be brought before the court in a police van. The case was adjourned and a fresh date given because of unavailability of the police van. Three dates have gone by and the police van has been unavailable each time. If the thieves aren’t presented in court the fourth time as well, they will automatically get bail. And once they get bail, they’ll go back to the place where they belong, merge with their loved ones and will never be heard of ever again. The court will send summons, but no one will answer. That’s the way cases are fought in our courts. Rumour has it, that the police are bribed by the thieves to make vans ‘unavailable’ for transfer so that they are let off on bail. If that’s the case, that’s shameful! If there’s a genuine lack of vans for the number of cases in court, it’s a shameful ignorance of logistics. And if there are vans a plenty, but they are used for VIP bandobast, festival duty, for fathers-in-law of IGs or family members of other higher ups; then it’s a wonder that anybody in Mumbai is convicted at all. I rest my case!