A nautch lower

There was a marriage I got invited for. This guy was a sweet IT guy who left the firm to start his own business. A sweet guy. I was happy when he specially sent a card for me and spoke to me. Of course I would come for his wedding. In morning I was explaining to someone that it’s my philosophy that I typically go to these kid’s weddings. I don’t mind bunking a big expensive wedding but I would go for a small simple wedding. My colleague thought that was pretty cool of me – that I am not affected by status or something like that. I thought a bit and said – nopes. I think you are wrong. I am affected by status. Therefore I go to a wedding of the guy who may be of a lower status. So that I feel invited and special. In a big man’s wedding all are called. You are just some small fish.

But to be true to myself – I rather go where my presence means something to someone. I don’t like going for any weddings. They are a really boring chore.

Our servant since  seven years recently became a grandmother. She invited us to a ceremony a few weeks post the delivery. That day in the evening we completely forgot about it and realized only late at around 9 pm. Jasmine called her if we could come and she welcomed us. She stays in a hut under a bridge. We reached the settlement and her son was waiting for us. We were welcomed inside. It was a small tin room with a fan and almost nothing else. A gas stove in the side with a few vessels was the kitchen. A room made inside the shed was the privacy of the young couple. It felt nice to go. We were obviously the big guys coming in. as Devki (our servant) played with her gand daughter she said to her – look who’s come. Refereeing to Jispa  - she said – see your sister has come. You will go to her house an dplay and learn. She stays in the big buildings.

Clearly it was important for us to come. That is what is important when you attend functions. Is your presence a significant to the person inviting. So many times the invite is just for formality. They invite because it’s just a part of protocol. But when someone like the IT guy, who invited because he felt it would be nice for me to come, then I would love to go.

Coming back to Devki. I asked her a few days later – who else came from the buildings. She said only you guys came. The other lady is not like that. She won’t come. She then said sorry Devki. What sorry I ask. She didn’t want to come to the hutments. Jasmine and I looked at each other. Whew. Its good we remembered at the fag end of the day. Otherwise she would have kicked us as well.

Seeing a hutment where people live is always a bit humbling and I was happy that we took Jispa along. Then only can you get a sense of what privileges we have. We take a lot for granted and we as bankers have no idea what the people really want. Devki has the keys to our house. She comes in the evening, does the work and leaves. But crucially the keys to our house are also the keys to her bank. She keeps er money in a pouch in our house. She has kept a few of her jewelry also with us. She also has stored a few gifts of her grandchild. We are her bank and safe deposit locker. She takes loans from us, deposits and withdraws money and keeps valuables safe. When we think of what the people need what we realize that they need a simple place to keep things safe. Her stuff is not under lock and key and it’s not even worth breaking into my house for. It’s almost nothing to us but a lot for her. She has no use for an ATM or a cheque or working hours of a bank. All she needs is a key. But we give keys only to those people who don’t really need it.

Poverty is a curse and it inflicts itself again and again on people. These guys remain poor because of the system as also by the choices they make / forced to make. Just one statistic floored me. She says in the month or so after the birth of her grand child – she has ended up spending around 25 thousand bucks. Consider this to the fact that she did not have to spend any money on the birth, courtesy the government health service. And she spent around 7 grand on the function we were invited to. Seven grand on food/colas and other stuff. Crazy! That’s the money I told you want for you grand kid when she grows up and goes to school. Save it!

Poverty is a state of mind I guess. Something must have struck my grandfather when he was the only kid that decided to study and go beyond his village. He came to Mumbai and became a doctor. His dad was a humble grocer in a small village in Gujarat. He paved the way for prosperity for his generations to follow.  Moving out of the poverty trap is not just working hard, its also thinking hard. Devki works as hard as any one of us, but as she tells – when her son got married she blew a lot of money in the village on the function – including a nautch girl to dance. It seems including her payment and booze – it cost her 800 bucks. Now her relatives want her to come and organize another celebration. I am keen to go to her village and witness it first-hand. That would be another interesting subject for a travelogue.

 

steal from the world (and not a stone)

There was this party organised by Jasmine’s uncle. It was supposed to be a social get together with all of Jasmine’s relatives etc. We knew about this since some time and knew we hadn’t received the invite. Jasmine’s sister in law kept asking if we had received the invite. Jasmine and I are pretty unsociable characters. We don’t like to go to too many social dos or marriages or functions. We just avoid in the hope that we will slowly become outcastes.
The sweet uncle in all probability forgot about the invite. We are really not the types to count it as a snub. Honestly we don’t really care too much. It does not change equations at all for us. Where’s the harm, when you are ultimate goal is social exclusion.
Me especially; I hate taking calls as well as making small talk with all the relatives. That’s why most the time I am busy playing with the tiny tots. I don’t connect and it probably is felt by the others. Most of the time I am so bored. Of course in wedding the saving grace is the atrocious embroidery, colors and hairstyles worn by the close relatives. Those are many times worth going miles to see. I think Jasmine’s cousins are worse than mine in this regard. But of late I haven’t had too much opportunity for comparisons. I hardly get invited by any of my relatives. Also the source has dried up. The second generation is now coming of age and now on we might have reason to be called as they start getting hitched one by one. Till then it’s relax time.
On Saturday mid way into the party, her uncle calls up and apologises to Jasmine and me for the faux pas. No problem uncle, it really does not matter. We are comfortable. We still love and respect you. But then he insisted that we come. Ok ok. Now I was tired from office and we had to go to my mom’s house as well. But then if we then do not go that would mean that we would count not being invited as a snub. If Jasmine went without me then it would mean that I counted that as a snub. Oops. So we both went for the function and then went to mommy’s house.
The sweet uncle for all apologetic at the function. I told him it’s ok, don’t bother. Shit happens. I am glad that both Jasmine and I don’t really care about it. We like to keep our egos in close check. There are so many mistakes we make in the course of our lives as social creatures. Lots of energy and time is devoted to ensure that egos are placated and crazy rituals are involved to ensure everything, from who sits where and who eats when. It’s stupid. The last thing I would want is to accentuate it by feeling ill will over something I don’t even want to get into. Got invited… great. Did not get invited… greater. They forgot you existed… greatest. I think in ninth or tenth standard I read a poen in school which had these lines to close the poem. “Steal from the world, and not a stone tell where I lie”. Google search mind refresher – the poem was by Alexander Pope.

Hey I just read the whole poem again. It’s pretty inspirational. I had forgotten the words. But is so clearly remember the class in which it was taught. I think one the best things that happened in those days was that the school principal Fr Adolf, came to teach poetry in class. He only took the poetry lessons. The principal is not normally expected to teach and his predecessors hadn’t taught us anything. But the fact that the principal took one poetry class every week for us, signified the importance of poetry, at least in my head. He came in and dicussed a poetry from the book. He used to allow us, rather encourage us to think. We were a boy’s school and the only person we really feared was the princy. And this princy was feared as he was a bit authoritarian, came in and taught poetry. Opposites reconciling? It is from him that I learnt to throw chocolates in class for good answers. He threw éclairs and melody chocolates to kids giving answers. I still use that as an effective strategy when I teach for encouraging people to think and students after many years still remember that and tell me that they really tried their best to get a chocolate in my class. And these are ‘hard nosed and bored’ college students, no less.
This poem was taught to us by this princy. I had a difference in the understanding on the last lines. I read it as the poet wanting not to steal even a stone from the world and was challenging the world to prove if he ever lied. The sweet princy heard me, thought through, agreed and then explained the right interpretation. Not once did he say I was wrong. In fact I remember his argument as if it was yesterday. He said ‘I would have agreed with you if not for the comma put before the and in the line. If the comma came after the word – stone, then your interpretation might hold good, but now if you pause at world and the word ‘and’ comes there, it almost like starting a new sentence with ‘not a stone…’; and hence the conventional and straightforward explanations.

Here, read the entire poem. I don’t know if I really liked it then. But I seem to like it now. Probably it resonates better with my current being.

Ode on Solitude

How happy he, who free from care
The rage of courts, and noise of towns;
Contented breathes his native air,
In his own grounds.

Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread,
Whose flocks supply him with attire,
Whose trees in summer yield him shade,
In winter fire.

Blest! who can unconcern'dly find
Hours, days, and years slide swift away,
In health of body, peace of mind,
Quiet by day,

Sound sleep by night; study and ease
Together mix'd; sweet recreation,
And innocence, which most does please,
With meditation.

Thus let me live, unheard, unknown;
Thus unlamented let me die;
Steal from the world, and not a stone
Tell where I lie.

-- Alexander Pope