Why I have a bucket list for ME :)

My bucket list is not a long to-do things in a lifetime... at least for me. The list includes things that I do not want to do and wish someone else does for me.

The bucket list contain things like standing up in class when asked to stand up if the class project is not done. Wish someone else stands up, not me,

To sit for my Math exam and solve just the sums that greet me saying Hi, stranger!

To say No, to a love letter from someone I dread to even look at in college :D

When I have to choose between Mom and Dad when they have an argument!

The bucket list of what I don't want to do also has wish someone takes the side for me, when two of my best friends stop talking to each other!

 Wish someone else would feel the pain when a new shoe bites me :)

Wish someone else’s heartbreak if Farhan Akthar finds his ‘girl’ :D (I don’t want this to happen….the finding part, I meant)

List wishes someone else to get scared and scream when watching a horror flick and get strange looks from other in the theatre or the scorn from family if watching at home.

Wish I don't have to ask for my pads from the pharmacy manned by men (Yeah, am no feminist to walk in there, slam the table, look straight into their eyes and demand "Whisper!)

Wish I don't have to be the first in the traffic row when light turns red... because will have less time to check my WhatsApp! :D

The bucket list has things like wish I don't see a still escalator at office when about to check in and the formidable staircase beckons me... wish someone else would climb it for me... :D

Bucket list says wish someone folds the clothes from the clothesline at the end of the day when all I want to do is sleeeeep!

Bucket list says, wish I don't have to be told "working women are to spend 'quality time' with family by any social cultural custodians on a TV panel! I can lip synch such lines.... beaten to death this topic is, yet is told in abundance!

My bucket list gets new member almost every time I wince, says "Oh! No", Jeez, here it comes!... But why me... types of statement. My bucket list is different.... it has only things which someone else can do for me :D

Err... did you call me lazy bones?

Hehehe.... just for 5 days a year, wish to be so... and no, this is not in my bucket list but "Bouquet list"! The ones, I will do... be they be outrageous, strictly no-no, dangerous for my "age" or sheer jealousy! :)

Ravana too had good in him..

Been hearing how terrible Ravana was and how big a war Rama fought to kill this terrible demon king, in the epic Ramayana.

That was the childhood till early 20s version, when we had time and thought bad is BAD and good is all that we need on this Earth. No Ravanas but only Ramas.

Come 30s, didn't have time or any orientation towards good or bad since we been both as per life's circumstances.

But by 40s, one has seen good lot of 'bads' and 'goods' in life to realize not every bad is BAD and not all that looks, feels, smells, tastes, sounds, reads, walks, talks, seen good is indeed GOOD.

It is this U-turn philosophy that made me think... Asura King Ravana was not all that bad for these (few) reasons I picked from the mythology Ramayana, written by Sage Valmiki and many others.
(Glad during those days there were no copyrights! Else Sage Valmiki would have spend his next three births filing and fighting copyrights cases to protect Valmiki Ramayana!)

Coming back to King Ravana, these few points cannot be proved wrong and if Ravana was so evil to be burnt down, he shouldn't have had these (few) in him in the first place:

1) King Ravana did not attack Ayodhya and declare war on King Rama
2) He went to Panchavadi forest based on his sister Surpanakha complaint on how Rama and Lakshmana played pranks on her, humiliated her and later Lakshmana chopped off her nose
(True, Surpanakha went to attack the petite Sita.. yeah, you are right Surpanakha asked for it from Lakshmana... could have very well returned home after the pranks!)
3) He went there not in any intention to kidnap Sita but to avenge his sister's humiliation (like any elder or younger brother does in school, college or even after that... sister's dignity at stake is something no brother can tolerate!)
4) Kidnapping Sita could also have been for the reason to lure the brothers to Lanka, his own kingdom and fight it out with them on his own territory where he is more powerful than in Panchavadi which is the brother's territory
5) He didn't have to give 12 months deciding time to Sita to make her his own. He was a devotee of Lords, devas, had enough powers to force himself on Sita, force marry her than give her time
6) He went to meet Sita every morning to see if her mind has changed and is ready to accept him as her husband, with his wife Mandodari...never alone
7) He did not dump Mandodari till his death in spite having got Sita in Lanka

On the other hand, Rama and Lakshmana could have avoided the prank on Surpanakha, in stead while one of the two brothers were engaged in letting Surpanakha know, they cannot marry her, they could have sent a messenger to Lanka. They could have passed a message to King Ravana to come and fetch his stubborn and unreasonable sister and take her back home.

True, Lakshmana chopped off Surpanakha's nose when his mother-like Sita was being attacked. Had they sent to Ravana to take her back, the chopping, crying, kidnapping, war could have been avoided.

King Rama and the husband Rama would have lived happily with the Queen Sita and wife Sita, after 14 years of exile. Instead, even after 14 years of exile, the King banished the Queen in Sita to prove his Dharma to his citizens, at the same time the husband in Rama made parallel arrangement to take care of his pregnant wife Sita at a sage's ashram. So much chaos and unhappiness!

Which makes me wonder who had more good in him... King Ravana or King Rama?

Migrant Workers are unlike Migratory Birds - Boon to Bane

No. It is not always the Government who does everything for their citizen's safety. In the wake of developments in the gruesome murder case of Jisha, a law student in Kerala, the migrant workers' community is under social and security scanner.

They are here in my state because there is a high demand for manual labor in a hi-tech society. The real estate construction sector, local area cleaning methods, handy-man job sectors are light years away from being technology savvy, spend less on machining, depend on manual labor which is cost effective-long term maintenance free and do not add to immovable investment when not having projects.

Migrant workers are paid less than local skills. They are ready to do digging in any circumstances, they do not say no in entering manholes, they do not ask for equal wages but more than happy to be employed, they too have a family (families!) to send money home. They are physically stronger with more stamina than local skilled or unskilled labor. They do not spend on fancy motorbikes, purchase of land, are not fashion conscious.

All a migrant worker ask for in a room to share with his 10-15 peers in the outskirts of a city, public transport to take him to and from home-workplace, a cooking space inside the room and garbage piled up corners. What he cannot do away with is his mobile phone, the sloppy shoulder bag, full-sleeve tee shirt and contrast color jeans, trousers.   

What makes us like their manual labor is the sincerity with which they focus on their task, get it done as instructed and leave workplace without waiting to be given old clothes, water or food.

What we miss while admiring his labor skills are his sharp eyes taking note of the surroundings, his silent watchful presence making a mental note of the layout, people staying around the area and the determined attitude to stay back and get woven into our society. In his sincerity lies the cold selfish intention to get what he wants… whatever it be… gold ornaments, money, trust and our hearts.
When we see an immigrant worker as an assistant to a local skilled labor coming home for a task, we do not spare anything more than a glance towards the immigrant worker since he is here only to “assist”. We speak at length with his immediate senior worker or supervisor on how or what needs to be done for the day or week and we walk away into our daily chores. Here are a few thoughts:

As citizens:

1. Ask his name and have the immigrant worker answer
2. Repeat his name and confirm if you got it right
3. Ask his supervisor if he is a registered immigrant labor
4. Ask for his registration ID card or proo
5. Get your local contractor or sub-contractor hand over or email you details of his laborers working in your project with details of their permanent and present address
6. Keep a tab on if the same migrant labour comes on all days
7. In large constructions sites, have a team of your men/women to report, record arrival and departure of the migrant laborer
8. Ensure you pick up basics of the most commonly spoken language by migrant workers
9. Do not agree to engage any unregistered migrant laborer
10. Do report to police about any social noise from migrant workers

The Government (Central and every State) on their part please check:

1. The process followed by mobile network providers in supplying SIM to migrant workers
2. Do they submit address proof
3. Are their SIMs activated with verifications
4. Is the proof of address valid and genuine
5. In the event of mobile providers not having sufficient proofs, the concerned authorities should disconnect of block the SIM
6. Have a IVR in Hindi saying why is it blocked and to report to nearest police station to get it activated
7. There in not a single migrant worker who does not use a mobile phone
8. Have every contractor report how many migrant laborers they have registered under their name
9. The Labor Commission officer and Panchayat members have to sign on the permit to have  migrant workers under him
10. Cap the maximum migrant labor under each contractor to 50
11. Have migrant workers educated in benefits of reporting to Labor office through Panchayat
12. Assure them safety, security, an identity, dignity in their existence by legalizing their presence in the State
13. Have new policies made or the migrant labor card to be valid within India
14. Ensure all migrant workers have a basic fitness test done at local area health centre (height, weight, blood group, basic blood test and chest x-ray) free of cost (Government to bear this cost)
15. Alert Health officers to conduct checks in the migrant workers' place of stay or camps every quarter

Have labor squads, Panchayat, anganwadi, kudumbashree, ASHA workers go house-to-house and see if the owner has built additional rooms, renting to migrant workers. If he/she has not reported the earnings to Govt, it’s a violation and loss of tax revenue, book the landlord or owner.

Citizens have to ensure socially these migrant workers are not treated any different than own fellow social beings. Because of the economical imbalance, there is a flow of migrant workers to our state. There is a flow of such and elite workers from our state to US, Far East and Middle East too. :) :)

There needs to be a cultural, social, political and perspective change in our society to ensure migrant workers do not make our society hostage for their low cost labor.

 

 

Why am I faking to being alive?

Jia gave me a call that was laced with an urgency. She was trying to push the urgency by a few minutes into the call, parking it rather.

I went by the flow. Knew she had something to share. Knew it was something which if her folks at home hear, will tag her as 'depressed'! If her friends are told, they may nod and change topic.

It is something Jia knows I will listen to at least, if not buy in. And finally she asked me this: Jia, why am I faking to be alive?

Couple of terms in it... fake to be alive... made me reel for a few seconds... Did I hear fake to be alive? Eh?

I asked Jia... Fake to be alive? How ... how are you faking? If one is alive, its for real.... not fake. She brushed aside my question saying, am not refereeing to the biological 'being alive' but as a person, soul.... I knew, Jia was speaking what many women in her age must be doing, going through. Some of them do not need to and if on can say, they are blessed... so be it. Here is why Jia says she thinks she is faking to life....

I get up every morning on the edge of my cot since my lil ones push me and occupy majority space. It hurts my back, neck and swear tonight I will go and sleep on my own cot. Yet when the little ones say they are scared the night sans me, I fake joy of sleeping with the 11 year olds and go through the pushing, kicking, etc every night. I cannot make them see it hurts me. I fake happiness and joy though am too sad to even wish for sleep.

I hate to drive around in the mornings, noon till evening... doing chores, picking up, hospital drops. I love to drive around in the night which is prohibited at home. I love the peace and quietness of the night rather than the harsh sunlight and smell of the hypermarkets where I go every alternate days. I do ask for a consolidated list to ensure I don't spend money everyday but that has never happened ... ever. I fake eagerness to drive around, pick up, drop, buy stuff since I cannot say no to my family.

I want to watch movies, laze around once in a while sans kids but that's considered as "working-mother-ignoring-child' attitude! thanks to all the preachy stuff in regional women's magazine and sicko talk shows. I have to take my children to every get together with my friends... work or otherwise. I fake joy and eagerness knowing they will bored since no other parent is getting their children. I fake being a great mother.

I am tired of living thus. I wish to tell people on their face, I need 3 days to myself a month... just three days. At least don't ask me to sleep in kids' bed when having my monthly chums, don't give me a list of stuff to buy, dry clean, pick up or allow me space on those three days to be with myself.... Why, Kartz... why do I need to fake in life so much and hope against hope I get my-time if not today tomorrow... if not this month... next one...and been living for 39 years!

I was silent through her narration.... speechless.... she just now told me .. how am living everyday! I didn't know if she wanted a solution or was giving me a nudge to tell me.

I wanted some water but knew putting her on hold is not polite... instead I asked her.... Jia, however ultra-metro be our dressing, attitude... what we are fundamentally... hasn't changed must over time... our gender been adjusting, comprising from time in memorial. We are at least realizing we are not genuinely happy and expressing it... which our previous generation never tried to do.... likewise, we should ensure our girls say No, am not comfortable doing, saying, giving, walking, eating...whatever makes them uneasy. We should teach and support them when they say No,

We should never approve our girls fake to be alive. It should end with you and me.

Who rapes in India?

The latest noise around a very relevant documentary by Leslee Udwin, BBC has brought out a few unseen colours out in the open. There is so much of din and noise about WHY the film was made? WHO gave the permission? STOP its screening etc etc.... Irrelevant when compared to a diverse set of messages this documentary gives.

Whoever watches it for getting a glimpse of who Jyothi was, her parents are etc will see just that... If you are watching it to listen to the convict talking about the incident scene by scene, you will see the entire documentary only about the convict but if you are looking at watching the documentary to try to see who raped and what were the intentions with the motive to find a solution... it is here, in this short documentary named - India's daughter.

These men have not seen or been to school, they were born and brought up in crammed slums where there is no privacy for women and any violation of her privacy is heard across the slum as a routine ever since a boy or girl is born. They have been brought up making them believe their mothers are their father's punching bags, the cook, bai and everything called as a housekeeper. They have played and grown up with boys who come from similar background.

But as they grow up into men, they leave the slums and move into cities where they see women are free to work, earn, travel, go to hotels, wear everything from sari to minis. If educated, these variations will not make any difference to his brain or hormones. They wont even bother to see what a woman is wearing or doing as they have their job to do. Such educationally- conditioned men do not see women as inferior nor superior but just as a peer.

Whereas, straight from the slums where his move to city is celebrated with drums, friends lifting him up in air, women looking up at him as if he is somebody superior is treated as an equal in a city by a woman, it hurts his ego-conditioned brain. His ego is punctured when as a driver a woman in a city asks for balance after a drive, a woman stops him from coming close to her in a crowded bus or even pushes him rudely as he reeks of alcohol. He get infuriated why is his superiority which has been driven into him all his 25 years is being belittled by a WOMAN.

Teach her a lesson, screams his ego, his uneducated brain and hormones take over. His only intention is to TEACH HER A LESSON for puncturing his male superiority that his mother and sister worship. How else but violate her dignity, TEACH HER A LESSON about his superior power by hurting her where it hurts the most -  her body. Rape her. Hurt her. Kill her. And pat yourself saying I have TAUGHT HER A LESSON how a man is powerful than a woman.

Take a few steps back and put him in a school. Parents object but Government says no ration if your boys and girls do not complete school till 10th grade and every year their promoted certificate to be shown and validated by the local body in their area. That sounds too too tooo idealistic to happen is a slum even in the capital.

How about have 5 points on "How Can You Not Hurt a Woman" be added as a public message in the cinema halls, on cigarette packets, on pan masala packets, on every film poster, on every election campaign material, into school diaries, on walls, posts, condom packs, alcohol bottles, exit and entry of every bar, public rest rooms for men, as morning pledge in aanganwadis, in every religious worship centre, super hero narrate these in their movies.... across touch points where boys who do not go to school are sure to pop up or roam around.

I hear the word Women Empowerment. Yes, making a woman aware who she is and what's her identity, that she is capable as any man in this society is a must. At the same time, making a man aware that a woman is needed for him to sustain his living on this earth and if no women are around he will perish, empower her means his burden is being shared will make a male-ego centric society accept women empowerment as a must have for all.

There is no point in generalising all men are rapists. With such open, hollow statements we are distancing the majority of the men who are aware why women are on this Earth. Take men along in empowering women.

Reach the roots of those at grassroot level. Lets start talking in their language, in the surrounding they live than from well-lit studios or high podiums about women's safety.

Lets make men in the lowest of the lower strata understand women are nothing inferior or superior but their peer. It will take painstaking ground work and a long 15-20 years to implement this change of thought but lets start somewhere. Today.

Working From Home: My Notes

I was not prepared for this. I was never prepared. Never expected it to happen to me. But it did. 8 months back I got to know my next job will see my home as my office. Work From Home (WFH).

I didn’t have a choice, like many, many of those who took this option to keep their career graph up. I did have a choice to relocate to another city and work for the same firm. But I chose WFH option.

Previously, when somebody said she is WFH, I would nod my head in agreement saying, “Yes, that’s something you like and guess it is doing you good”. After putting in a decade plus of man hours into career from an office environment with cubicles, cafeterias, friends, boardrooms, discussion rooms, office gossips, office politics, celebrations and hearing, seeing peers…. The first couple of months of WHF was like how one feels when an action packed movie is muted. Radio silence.

This silence used to buzz inside my head too much. I couldn’t take the silence around me when I opened my laptop in the mornings. I needed the sound of phones ringing. I wanted to see new saris, chudidhars clad co-workers, male co-workers sneaking out for a ‘smoke break’, the extended coffee breaks, team members… I wanted my office environment back.

And silence always teaches you to accept yourself, accept reality, to accept a personality in you which you never discover in an office buzz. Working in silence means it’s the sound from keyboard and your mobile ringing that brings you back to the room. Working in silence means you talk to yourself more… you read the mails slowly and carefully, you tend to dig into Internet more to get answers to your questions.

You discover your potential to imagine and implement the imagination in your own signature.

Philosophy aside, WFH has its pros and cons. Two sides of the same coin.

Let me talk about the dark side and keep the brighter side to sign off with. Will leave a better taste to your reading J

Out-of-sight means Out-of-mind. And this is true when working from home. You will be out of sight of peers, seniors, management team till you attend a Video Conference. Your immediate reporting manager, reportees and a few senior managers who you deliver to or work for/with, will remember you. But opportunities like a quick presentation to client, or being in client visit, being pulled into a discussion where your contribution changes the course of project etc. will never happen. Your voice will not be heard by those who would have when they pass by your cubicle. Your good morning greetings get confined to just a call or two or mails. The elevator greetings do not happen. Office peers tend to slowly tuck you into a faraway corner of their random memory. And sometimes, working from home tends to become working for home. Family expects you to run the home more efficiently than how it used to be when you were not seen home from 09:00 AM to 06:00 PM. And that’s a tall order as your workload from office does not decrease but ‘home work’ does. At times, your part-time domestic help too takes off, thinking you are home to cover for her. Bad scene.

But it is not all that bad either. The brighter side is something I discovered and is experiencing at present. WFH makes you feel you are stronger to ideate, conceptualize and present your ideas as your own. These are your ideas that you thought of or came across on your own. You get the space to innovate by self and present it for review. When ideas or concepts are submitted for your reviews, the expectation is you will do a fair job without being biased. As you are shielded from office gossip and politics, one develops a fairness to all based on their output that you get to see in the work you and they do together. WFH means you improve your research skills double fold as you are left to find your answers. The luxury of sliding your chair to the next cubicle for a suggestion is absent. WFH means you are always reachable by your team, reporting manager and management 24X7 making you more dependable for a quick turnaround. WFH means you work without getting distracted with events or mock fire drillsJ. Not to forget you can always get into a conference call (not VC) in your pyjamas or capris!

It is not uncommon for men too opting for WFH profile these days. And in giving your employees the flexibility to work even from under an apple tree, you are setting them free to think, be themselves but the discipline to get the work done to ensure they are on top of things and seen.

If asked to select between two jobs: One that allows flexibility to work from home and work from office and the other either one of the options, tomorrow… I would select the one that offers me the flexibility, like how I am having today. :)

Because on some days, one needs this flexibility to work from anywhere to deliver out of the world solutions, ideas or projects. Being boxed into a cubicle or surrounded by silence of home will not help to get the best out of me J

To the world of stars, I go

Recent media frenzy and social media’s buzz around people who live full life in public, made me think… and the notes here are scribbling. Not reviewed, revised and you are most welcome to disagree, criticise or … whatever makes you feel better!   

The life of a public figure means you have to have a control on your emotions; if you cannot or are not in a position to do so, those around you who care genuinely should ensure the society and you are shielded till you are clear about yourself.

Rather than allowing you to let go emotions on social media which is like a serpent, never know how poisonous it is, if mismanaged.

All the positive image, persona of radiating happiness, warmth, exuberant build for past many years, went crashing in a matter of minutes with own hands.

In a human lifetime, there will be pangs of mental isolation from reality, seeing loved ones as strangers, inflicting pain on you but when those pangs fade away and you recover from the depressed stage is when you tell yourself: not again.

Its painful to see you hold the hands of the very same loved one whose image was chopped into bits with your deeds or words, mostly unknowlingly.

I accept the argument that when one’s mind goes wandering into the deepest dark holes of universe, there is no control on what you say or do…. But how about asking the loved ones, to take you away from limelight, wrap you in their love and cocoon you, till get back the real feel of life?

When life zip past you in glamour and colour, when power reaches you from all quarters, when friends swarm you to get your attention, it’s unacceptable to be challenged by Nature, you would say. Unsettling you.

Maybe it’s unfair in your eyes, but what Nature does by taking you away to the world of stars is a warning to rest of us on Earth:  .....Slow down.....