Chance To Change

admin — Tue, 29 Apr 2014 15:17:34 +0000

This is that time of the year (or 5 years) when the political juices of people in India are really overflowing. The election time in India is like a big charismatic carnival: vivid, crowd pulling, deafening, fanfare, showmanship, media hype and what not? Come elections and the excitement levels are at peak. Even those who do not seem excited, find it difficult to curb their curiosity as the results of the top examination of their country roll out. In more than six decades of Independence, elections in India have grown bigger and bigger in volume, expenses and populace but the vital question is that whether they have become more significant? Do they pull the present generations out of their homes to the polling booths? Many election scenarios and memories cross my mind today as I watch election news of India. The first memory is of my childhood days; getting ready early and accompanying my parents to the polling station on the day of election. On the way, my father would educate me on the nuances of voting and its effects on our country. I had to stay out while they voted. I used to be really fascinated to see that indelible ink on their finger and would try to do the same on my finger at home but the ink of my father’s pen would not stay for long. Once, a few days before the elections, we were with our grandmother in her village. I vaguely remember that a political leader (maybe the sitting MP) came to the village. He went from home to home with folded hands. As he reached our home, he requested my grandmother to vote for him. My grandmother; though illiterate; was a bold and wise lady. She lambasted him left and right, “Now you have come for votes. Look at these streets and drains. They have never been repaired. Electricity is hardly ever supplied to the village. Last time you promised that soon we would have a bus coming here, where is that?” The sheepish M.P. struggled to speak as he was not expecting this kind of hauling over the coals from an old lady of a small village. He insisted that ‘soon’ all facilities would be provided to the village people. This is yet another story that even after three decades of that incident, the condition of the village has not changed much. Nonetheless, my undaunted grandmother considered it her pious duty to cast her vote till the end of her life. She had to be sometimes carried to the polling station when she was not able to walk but she never stopped voting although she hardly knew anything beyond the ruling party. Many years later, I met another lady with similar fervour for voting. She was my grandmother-in-law, an educated woman who also worked as a teacher for a short while. On the Election Day, she would wake up with a sense of duty and wait for someone to take her to the voting station. She was aware of the credentials of most of the contestants of her constituency. She would egg on other family members too to perform their ‘sacred duty.’ In case of both of those reverential ladies, the enthusiasm (to vote) never faded, the energy never ebbed and they never ceased from speaking their minds on the political conditions of India. Conversely, generation ‘Y’ today thinks that Election Day is just another day or worse a holiday to relax at their leisure. Many of them cannot even tell the difference between ‘Loksabha’ and ‘Vidhansabha.’ Urban educated masses have also distanced themselves from enfranchisement as they find it an exercise in futile. They feel that things in India will not change in any case. A resigned attitude has superseded the sense of responsibility. They no longer see it as their chance to change the fate of their country as they feel that most of the political parties have no mission or vision and trading Tom for Dick or for Harry is not going to change the fortune of India. Despite the entire disillusion, still the Indian citizens should try to fulfil the responsibility entrusted on to them by the constitution of India by voting for the most suitable candidate. They all must take inspiration from the 97 year old; Mr. Shyam Saran Negi of Kinnaur, Himachal Pardesh; the first voter of Independent India who feels proud to have voted in each election ever since 1951 . Beyond doubt, India needs good governance from the people who are genuinely interested to empower and develop it further but on the other hand the people also must willingly participate in the process of giving a suitable and stable government to India. Bricks & Bouquets: Do you think that elections change the fate of a country? Please share with me at rajesh@rainbow.org.nz[/su_spoiler]

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Rajesh JoshiI was super excited as I was going to visit my uncle, auntie & my cousins after a gap of about 10 years. Although we had always remained connected due to the competence of the device called phone but the anticipation of meeting them face to face had rather keyed me up beyond words. I started preparing days before; purchasing gifts for everybody; painting bright pictures in my mind of the fond interactions in the kitchen as usual with my auntie, family time at the dining table, some serious talk with my uncle while sipping morning tea in the corridor, loud banter over a game of Ludo or Snakes & Ladders with my cousins and late night endless gossip. The thrill kept me in ruptures for days before my soon-to-be visit. Finally the day arrived when I reached the destined place that had been the centre of my childhood activities during vacations for many years and thus reserved a special place in my heart and fond memories. I was welcomed in the warmth of my uncle’s family. Quickly I was ushered into the living room by my uncle & auntie. I was very pleased to see them and wanted to have a tete-a-tete with them while gorging on the delicious pakodas & tea but I received a tough competition from the T.V. set present there. Uncle & auntie although encouraging me to eat & drink, were hooked on to T.V. They were in the mid of watching a movie. I asked, “Where are Chinky and Mintu (my cousins)?” “Mintu is watching Cricket match in his room and Chinky is chatting with her friend in U.S.,” replied uncle. “Oh!” that was all I could say and thought that they can’t even spare a moment to come and say hi to their didi (sister). My auntie showed me into a room and switched on the T.V. “You change and relax. You must be tired. We will meet at dinner time.” Hurriedly she left lest she should miss the movie. I quickly unpacked, changed and felt refreshed. I decided to see my loving cousins in their rooms. I peeped into Chinky’s room and expected her to run over to me and smother me with her kisses and hugs. Here she was on her laptop furiously punching in the keys on keyboard. She looked at me and uttered a faint “Hi Di!” reluctantly stood up, hugged me and went back to her chair. “I am chatting with my friend in U.S. I will catch you a little later.” Not quite amused, I knocked at the door of Mintu’s room. “Who is this?” he shouted. Just to tease him, I knocked again; this time louder. He yelled, “I am watching match” and then he came pouncing to open the door. “I told you……! Oh! Hello didi! When did you come?” he said while standing in the doorway. I forced myself into his room. T.V. was in full volume. “Oh damn! Dhoni is out!” His attention was undivided in favour of the ongoing Cricket match. I ventured into asking him about his studies and other such matters to which he answered half-heartedly; mainly in mono-syllables- yes or no. He seemed to be much relieved when I left his room soon enough. I went back to my room; my feelings somewhat subdued. Later in the evening, the maid called me for dinner but not as usual at the dinner table; rather in the living room in front of the ghastly T.V.. Uncle and auntie had been joined by Chinky. They were engrossed in a serial drama. I asked about Mintu. Chinky replied, “Di, when he is watching Cricket match, he eats, drinks and does every possible thing in his room only.” We sat there and ate mechanically like robots without saying much to each other. All my enquiries had the shortest possible answers and those too during commercial breaks only. Post dinner, when I presented hem the gifts I had spent many evenings purchasing and wrapping, they just pushed them aside, as another serial had already begun. Crestfallen, I returned to my room leaving them with that menacing machine of so called entertainment. Tossing restlessly in my bed, involuntarily I felt sad and unwanted. The rush of thoughts numbed my mind. Did I travel this far to give them company in their T.V. serials, Cricket match and chatting? Are these the same people who I had lovingly spent my vacations with for years and years? I wanted to spend some quality time with them to refresh my memories but here I have a bunch of people who look rather strangers to me cocooned in their ‘gadgets of distraction or attraction?’ Has technology invaded our sense of belongingness? Relations have taken a backseat in the pursuit of keeping abreast of the latest on the Idiot-box. Has slavery to T.V. turned us into virtual robots? Things/gadgets are created for our convenience and comfort but what if they start interfering with our relationships, feelings and life? Bricks & Bouquets: Given a choice between watching your favourite movie on T.V. and having dinner with a dear friend, what would you prefer to do? Please share with me at rajesh@rainbow.org.nz

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Chance To Change