A day of Life in India

A day of Life in India

Just like many spices arranged in a plate get their turn as they are used one by one to add the spice, to neutral the taste or to help the sweetness. They all are the members of same family. One is always followed by the other.


A day of Life in India

Just like many spices arranged in a plate get their turn as they are used one by one to add the spice, to neutral the taste or to help the sweetness. They all are the members of same family. One is always followed by the other.

For a modern Indian family, comprising of six members, classified in age ranging from an infant to a teenager to a person calculating the grey cover expansion on the skull to a person calculating the monthly parlor bills to a person fumbling with the medicine intake interval to a person finding ways to achieve peace in pieces and to a person seeing all this going around the very own maid of the house or the peon of the office.

From the lazy morning wake ups to late night thinking, the day of life in India is a roller coaster ride in itself. For a child the worry is the school and that includes the bunch of so called friends and the gossips and come evenings, the tuition outing. And the pre-age crush on the girl, that too the most sincere one in the classroom. And for his/her father the worry is to meet the ends of earning as much as possible and that too without the tension and without adapting the offensive ways linked invisibly with corruption.

Corruption here is the salt of the democracy, from the infant worker to the giant conglomerate; corruption is the paper that supports the balance sheet of every enterprise in this country. A bitter truth but a truth indeed. Children go to school shoulders down and dreams in the queue and parents are left with this, support the dream and be the part of that dream.

Parents have to play with them on a play station, tickle their fingers on the tablet- the latest invention outside the pharmaceutical industry and they can try their hands on capturing, no I am saying about the camera here, D-SLR’s. And then lines the mother’s avenue.

Ekta Kapoor is the new generation goddess to many housewives. She has every trick in the book, to make the walls visible, to see through them. And big cosmetics laboratories head quartered in  Paris and London are inspired from her, how to remain ageless and match the age with only a difference of 2 years between a mother in law and a Bahu, to make them appear as they are different age twins; right.

And there is a box of worries for every age here, for a college pass out the job plays hide and seek and for a college dropout; the biggies of this world say Bill Gates and Steve Jobs are more than examples. For a newly married person or a newly named father, it is not less than a salt cake walk, happiness with calculation- happens only in India. And for a mother and father, seeing their children placed suitably; is not less than a relaxing feel but India comes to role play here also, the reservation for the minority and for the majority the only available option is make the best use of your brain.

The reality show television in India is a hot property now a days to promote a movie, to sell a commodity, to be in the news for all the not so right and fit reasons and to sit in the chair, where you are not suppose to move and to utter ill words but free to say a polite no. Exception- the Roadies, here the chair person has all the powers, he has the hold of that red button to execute you from the seat.

The sexagenarians (people running in their sixties) too have a busy life here, retirement brings a lot for them say to look and experience the change that has took place in their surroundings. These people are indeed the living memoirs or a bridge between two age groups separated from each other by age number of 30, a father and son. They need medication with tenderness of love and affection, they need someone to talk to them in lonely evening hours and they have so much love inside them to give. But there are no takers here, India inc. keeps everyone busy. As I feel it’s important to have an old person at home, may be because life finds a right alignment there.

And the very own essence of this soil, the festivals and rituals. Our God takes birth here every year and after then everything is back to normal. All days are not birthdays, sarcastic but true, applied to God also.

Fumbling and yet maintaining the balance, falling in the line, daring to see the dreams even while running out of sleep. India brings a lot to life, movies to inspire us, politics to make us learn to ignore, cricket to aspire and social networking as the daily lifeline. They say truly it is indeed God’s own country.

There is so much here that a day is made up of, the mess and the clean shelf. Strangely mess is the thing that needs a cleanup actually, and in India it can be applied if everything is clean and bright it means something is wrong and something not so healthy is in cooking line. The urban middle class will sacrifice to divert the benefits to the poor and at the same time it earns only to fund the riches.

Every age group here has the reasons to complain and the worries to be selfish, the freeness and the invisible wings that love delivers have no takers here. The worry of what tomorrow will be has made us to take today for granted.

Today’s India is indeed a hostile place to see and imagine dreams but we have the power of love alongside us resting and at the same time catching the rust in our armoury which we are unaware of, or if we are aware of, we don’t use it as a tool or a non hurting weapon. That very pinch quantity of love that we have in us is given to us; from our parents, our siblings, from a friend, from children and last but not the least from strangers.

At this moment somewhere, a new fist is about to uncurl, after arrival from a womb… a love story is about to reach the milestone of marriage in the way… a person is travelling a journey from school to college… a break up is in the queue after a half hearted relationship… a person is about to get, just before he/she has decided to quit… God is trying to please the atheist and help the priest… for someone, dreams are being stitched and filled in the quilt… somewhere it’s raining and somewhere the sun is delivering the strength to brittle bones… a prayer and a war separated by a cliff of mere few meters… somebody is trying desperately not to be desperate… and life goes on…

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