Musings: DIGNITY

Musings: DIGNITY

DIGNITY

Grateful I am

‘Coz with dignity

I raise my children

So what

If my tummy rumbles with rage

And my legs wobble

When I stagger home

Grateful I am

‘Coz a job I have

So what

If lustful male gazes on the roads

And contemptuous female glances

 from the havens  

I have to ignore

Grateful I am

‘coz food on the table I can lay

And bills I can pay

So what if the fear

Of the morrow haunts

That with my limbs

My children too might fail me?

Grateful I am

‘Coz today I live in dignity

Roads- where dost thou go?

The highway roads

Long and Stretching

Far and Beyond

Never Ending

Always busy

Yet seem lonesome

Leading everywhere

And No where

  If they could speak

        Would they fore tell

          Destines unknown?

          Reveal secrets

untold and unknown?

  Disclose histories 

hidden and un witnessed?

 But the roads

Still and silent

Go on and on and on

Life ends

But roads do not.

School friends forever - Reunion

The year 2015 went by rather too soon. Like every year this one too had its ups and downs but one event that stands out and will forever be a thing of joy for most of us from the class of 1985 from St. Mary’s convent High School, Raichur is the formation of the group “school friends forever” on whatsapp. Even a critic like me has had to admit that technology is not that bad at all.

Old friends were searched through social net working sites, neighbours of the friends, friends of friends, through siblings and through all possible venues and added on the “school friends forever” group on whatsapp.  Each one of us was ecstatic to be in touch with child hood buddies who we thought we would never meet. And the conversations flowed round the clock. Whoever was online at that time chatted and caught up with each other filling in the details of the past years or reminiscing the good old school days, the pranks, the punishments, the laughter shared. There was so much to talk about..pulling each other’s leg, complimenting on the looks, discussing about shopping, sharing recipes, homemade remedies and what not.  Some were housewives, some had careers and some settled abroad. All of us were scattered and caught up in the whirlwind of life yet flocked together on whatsapp. We were miles away but on whatsapp all we needed was just a ‘tap on our touch screen phones’ to connect. And we would be instantly transported to a totally different world where we were like the adolescent girls walking down the familiar corridors of our alma mater.

Soon the topic veered towards having a get together of all the old friends -Reunions having become the trend these days. After much deliberation the reunion of St. Mary’s batch of 1985 was finalized for 10 and 11^th of October 1985. More excited discussion on finalizing the colour code for the 2 days. And even more discussions on the agenda for the 2 days. Each one of us had our own ideas and we were all filled with excitement.

The colour codes were finalized, the place of stay and the agenda also finalized because this was the discussion for one whole month. Votes were taken where necessary. Tickets were booked to avoid last minute rush. A majority of our class mates lived in Bengaluru so expected a decent gathering of at least 25 to 30 friends. But gradually other priorities took over and some of them dropped out of the reunion plan much to the dismay of the others.   But somehow the responsibilities are laden more on the women when it comes to children- their studies, health, nursing aged parents and in-laws.

The rest of us who were going were counting the days for the D Day. And finally it arrived. It was a warm sunny day the 10^th of October, Saturday in Raichur when 16 of us met at a common point dressed in navy blue and white - the colours of our beloved Alma mater. We were all talking at once greeting and hugging each other with ecstatic joy complimenting on how pretty the other looked or how much our friend had changed in appearances or not changed at all despite the years.  Selfies and group photos were in order. And then we took the path to our school as decided. Even on the way we chatted excitedly talking about the miscellaneous stalls just outside the school gate where sweetmeats, wild berries were sold and how we used to throng to buy them even though our elders and teachers were against it. We wondered if the vendors would still be there but when we reached there we were disappointed that the place was empty. None of the little stalls with the women vendors warding off flies were there. They were a thing of the past now. Children no longer preferred those goodies now.

In, the school gate we walked, remembering how as late comers we used to stand at the gate fearfully. And if there was a slight chance we would sneak in and join the last row in morning assembly. We met the present Head Mistress and asked her about our old teachers who were all retired and a few already in heavens. The Office room was also another place we dreaded because this was the place where we were called only when we had done a grievous mischief and deserved punishment from none other but the school head.

We walked around the school compound gazing yearningly at the primary section, the play ground, the water tank where we fearlessly drank water that was neither filtered nor boiled. The church where we used to quickly kneel for blessing to pass in the test had received a makeover and was prettier now.

At the exterior there were changes but those classrooms were still the same and our chatter and giggles probably still echoed in the memories of time. We gathered on the dais for photos, posed at the coveted piano in the school auditorium, sang the school song and other hymn at the very place where our morning assembly was held, had small talks with the present girls studying there, walked around the play ground and the grotto reminiscing those golden days of our school hood. We could just never have enough of it but we had to move on because that is the law for all living things – to grow and outgrow.

An elaborate lunch and visiting 2 of our senior teachers took place as planned followed by a noisy evening and an elaborate dinner.

In the nights there was much laughter, cracking jokes and laughing gleefully at the adult jokes like school girls sharing something private. We were seeing this naughty side of each other now after 30 years where the naughtiness in the school was something else. Maybe a trick played on a unsuspecting girl or doing something slyly to escape punishment. 

Day 2 was spent at a local resort singing, dancing, talking, laughing and posing for photographs.  And most importantly, catching up with each other. So much had happened with so many of us in all these years.

Photos, video clips were sent in the group to those who had missed out on the reunion.  Each place we went to was informed in the group so they too could actually get the ‘feel’ of being with us.

The 2 days with friends passed quickly and the time to depart arrived…one by one each one left to her place with a heavy heart but laden with memories that will be treasured.

There may be more get togethers in the coming years but this one – the first one will be the best one – I reflected. The year also saw its worst floods and some of our friends were caught up in the storms and they braved out of it. These two major incidents one that gave us a high and another low. There were many lows in the lives of other friends who lost their loved ones but life goes on and friends give us a all new high each time we log on to the whatsapp group.

Friends from diverse backgrounds, each having her own individual battle but when we are in the group everything becomes everyone’s concern and sorrow and each one’s happiness becomes everyone’s joy.

Girls who were brilliant and teachers’ pet and girls who were average and some even wall flies were all one now with no sense of insecurity or inferiority. Because today, each one of us has managed to garner her own place under the sun. 

The caravan of friendship never ends. It is indeed true that poor is a person who has no friends. And here we were rich beyond words because we had friends from our college days, friends from our work places, friends from our towns/ cities and best of all friends from childhood. We all owned the wealth of friendship and today are richer than any rich person in the whole of the world.

“Each friend represents a world within us” – Anian Nin. And so it was each one of us was similar to the other in some way and different in some other way and yet we were all one.

Those 2 days we re-lived the school days. And it was just not enough. There was a feeling of emptiness after we departed.

A friend of mine had written in my autograph book in school, the lines were something like this “Into that garden we shall meet where friends never depart.” Somehow I never found my school autograph book again but these words along with some others still linger in my mind.  

And I conclude this blog here with hopes of writing any more memoirs of moments spent with friends, with this quote found on the internet and which suits my write up aptly:

"I know we'll be friends for life, sharing our dreams together. As we walk down the road, we'll never think twice, these memories are made forever. And though we're off to different worlds, somehow we're together...because deep within our heart...these memories are made forever."
- Mystic Pizza -

PS: Friends o mine who are reading this especially who made it to the reunion, please suggest editions if needed. Will edit the blog and re post. JJ

  

What's the Gujarat Model and who's seen it?

What's the Gujarat Model and who's seen it?

I close My Eyes

The Beggar woman under the tree

On the way to my office I daily see

Reminds me of the poem by Sri Sri

Titled aptly ‘Bhikshu Varshiyasi’.

In the unbearable heat of summers

In the monsoon with its thunders and rains

Through the teeth chattering, bone chilling winters

She is there, all by her self, with nowhere to go.

Staring in space, sometimes fidgeting

Perhaps for a respite she is longing

I often in guilt wonder how she is surviving

Her bedding the rags torn and tattered

Her only possession a bundle stacked

In between the branches of the tree

All this and much more I see

Now I begin to understand why

The kings of yore went around in disguise

And Gautam the Buddha closed his eyes

To help the wretched; a salvation to seek.

And I. I too close my eyes

In helplessness, hypocrisy and pretence

For no solution on Earth I see for the meek.

Nikhat Fatima

Mirages

The foolish mind

Never tires

Of chasing mirages

It knows they do not exist,

It falls headlong each time

On the hard sands of desert

Only to begin anew the chase.

Fuelled by the comforting lies

Filled with hopes, dreams, prayers….

It sprints on…

With optimism

That the mirage

Might turn into reality.

Not knowing that even

Realities can turn into mirages.

The foolish mind

Falters, falls…..

But never gives up, never tires

Of chasing mirages

Nikhat Fatima

1^st July, 2013