Neelam Di

Neelam di, the eldest among we, seven proud daughters of our parents , had many firsts to her credit. My parents had resolved that they won't have children till india got independence and she was the first born in July, 1948; ' chhatie raat'- the auspicious ' naamkaran' ceremony which is associated with son's birth was celebrated for her; she was the first girl to be sent to newly opened DAV College, Abohar (PB) despite resistance by society; first to become Pitaji's 'Professor puttar'-the tradition followed by all her sisters; first to get into the IAS in Abohar region; the first to get family a fridge and a fiat car 

She was the pivot around whom revolved lives of all of us. Neelam Di was Pitaji's cuckoo bird in whom lay his 'jaan'. All of us, her younger sisters vied with each other as to who was her best admirer and Archana was deemed her biggest fan (72 inches). She was embodiment of sensitivity, delicacy and grace who was looked up to by all our maternal and paternal relations for guidance, resolving petty disputes and mentoring. I often wonder how she managed so much investment of time, patience, energy and money to keep the ties bound together in the Kataria clan. She was a class apart - a giver throughout her life- like Sun that spreads shine and takes back nothing. Her ability to love unconditionally made her the most loved person. She was a true friend in need who would go any extra mile to help. Beautiful, short statured Neelam Di stood taller than all with her uncanny ability to give give give. 

She was a strong personality with crystal clear views on subjects she shared with Pitaji. During one such discussion an argument arose, the difference of opinion asserted and the heated tone of my father hurt her paving way for a cold, terrifying silent spell in her short sojourn of two days at home. We as kids were wondering who would initiate a dialogue-cancerian(Neelam Di) or aries (Pitaji). She took the lead before leaving and what followed would remain in my memory till the last breath. My father hugged her and broke down murmuring : 'forgive me my darling daughter, forgive me'. And all were in tears.

She was voracious, avid Reader and a prolific writer whose pen wove magic of words in prose and poetry and missives she scribbled for mentoring her younger sisters. She wrote straight from the heart and what she wrote appealed straight to the heart. Her handwriting in both English and Hindi was so beautiful that I as a child used to touch it and feel the depth of beauty she sprinkled in language ambued in literature. Once she wrote to me: 'one has to be good and great not to nurse any 'katuta'(bitterness) -the exhortation like a touchstone has worked till date as a guiding force. She initiated me to writing by gifting me maiden diary when I was in class VI. I owe her gratitude for the first smart trousers, a chess board, a Parker pen, a Vivitar camera. She would bring her Murphy urphy transistor all the way from Delhi to Abohar to enable me listen to music I was so fond of. 

She was every bit our father's daughter- in temperament, aesthetic tastes, grace, humility, love for flowers especially roses, gait, penchant for literature, newspapers, impatience for anything casual or callous or lacking depth, adoration for the clan and passion for writing, idealism and unflinching patriotism, skill of oratory, taste for music, God fearing and respectful for all religions but unritualistic, spirit of celebration and making other feel special by the honour bestowed upon. Both died sooner than they should have. It has been nineteen years since she passed away on 29th June 1999 but not a day has lapsed when she has not been missed as her being had filled our lives with love, care, affection and protection. The void is irreparable. She was like the centre that holds things, relations from falling apart. Her going away from this world diminished each one of us separately and together as family. Since childhood I have lived with the desire to emulate her but I know I can never be like her. She was matchless personality and a human being par excellence. 

Attachment

Attachment'-in itself is the most common, natural, genuine, honest confession. Attachment is most commonly associated with persons, places and things. There are more than one hundred shlokas amongst 700 shlokas of Bhagwad Gita that attachment has been referred to and explained in threadbare details as to lure the bewildred Arjuna to shun it and do his 'karma' i.e. take part in the battle dispassionately, detatchedly. In normal parlance, is not each one of us 'smitten' by attachment? All our happiness emanates from it though sadly all our unhappiness, too germinates from attachment only. Is this my statement an exaggeration or a plain truth?  

With things our attachment is not very harmful as it is our individual domain. We are so much inclined to hoard, store, keep intact for years small things, dresses, playthings associated with our childhood-things that once upon a time gave us joy we want to keep them forever. This is another matter that after long intervals when we 'discover' them during some clear-the -clutter-campaign, they bring back memories which can moist our eyes or cause a lump in the throat and we hurriedly pack them to save them for some other time when we could afford the luxury of brooding or delving upon past as generally there is dearth of time in hand. 

We love the mess, too that the things we are attached to tend to create. Removal of any particle from near our bed side table or a cupboard can put us off. The bathrooms and lobbies and drawing rooms generally bespeak of our attachment with kinds of things we display therein. The almirahs hide in themselves nothing but our own penchant for things connected with one occasion or the other, gifts received, dresses we deem 'lucky'  (howsoever old and unfit they may become). With passage of time, this attachment does not lessen even though the things fall in Keynesian law of diminishing marginal utility. 

The most vulnerable aspect of attachment is with persons as it leaves the sanctum sactorum of our own individuality. Incidentally, this is also the cause of greatest happiness-seeding of attachment and romance of relationships quickly followed by rising expectations and aspirations and with expectations accompany as a natural corollory the disillusionment and  hurts. In this world of 'illusions' as all scriptures tend to prove, it is the attachment which is the root cause of all pains because what we deem to possess and gives us pure happiness and abundant joy  proves an illusion and becomes the cause of torment and hurt. Attachment is natural basis of human relationships and it takes a lifetime to understand all its nuances and complexities as to how the attachment, harbinger of all the joys of the world becomes the cause of the sorrows unfathomable and unbearable. If it is a  'thing of beauty' then why not 'a joy forever'? Why attachments denote that joy 'whose hands are forever at his lips/bidding adieu'( Ode on Melanhcoly by John Keats).

I feel it is not just in relationships that attachment becomes a cause of unhappiness, attachment of any kind tends to lead to some sorrow in any context- work, project, place of stay, transient things and even intransient ideas. Attachment is like a sheen which affects the ability to see things logically, rationally, judiciously. Somewhere it blurs our vision and perception. Attachment makes the prudence take a back seat and enables passion rein. It calls for constant vigilance against attachment when we work passionately for  projects with involvement of human kind. It does not mean-definitely it does not mean not doing things with heart but there is a very thin thread between the personal and professional-both deserve to be given due respect without affecting the other adversely. 

Attachment with past is the most harmful. In this our world where the only thing constant is the law of change, it is very natural that attachment with memories howsoever beautiful would cause pain. We tend to be attached to painful memories more which return to impact the joyous present every now and then. This attachment with past leads to negativity which has ample potential to cause a damper on every joy of the present. In short, this attachment is a 'kill joy'.

Opposite to attachment is detatchment. Generally it is associated with ascetics and seers who renounce the world. It takes a lifetime to meet such noble souls who have completely overcome attachment with persons, places, things, power, pelf and comforts. 

Attachment is humans' strength and weakness, too. It tests and poses challenges of human kind whether we are able to make it our strength or let it it be our weakness. Life takes the role of a teacher who examines how prepared we are for happiness and how vulnerable to pains and tribulations. We all love to be happy and joyous-our basic nature. Anandmohan, the ultimate joy is all we seek whatever the medium. To detach ourselves or to renounce is not our forte, cannot be as long as we are living on this planet as normal beings. But for sure, it is our duty to guard ourselves against pains and sorrows- come what may. The biggest is challenge is to follow the middle path between the detachment and attachment i.e. Anaskati-to be away from life while being in thick of it. 

Negativity- No More !

The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our star's / but in ourselves/that we are underlings' says Cassius in Julius Caesar (William Shakepseare). 

Sometimes I really wonder how we have filled our lives and our world with so much of negativity that it has become a way of life for the most of us. We donot 'feel' the presence of dominant trait of negativity which gets eloquently revealed in our words, gestures, expressions of face and language of body. We refuse to believe ourselves to be smitten by the venomous demon of negativity because there is nothing we find worth blaming ourselves for and accept as a matter ofcourse the dominance of this vicious witch which overshadows our positivity, our goodness, all the finer qualities of head and heart we possess in abundance. We know and donot know how the hidden tentacles like scorpion's, negativity swallows the smiles and turn them to sarcasm, eats up the faith and makes us cynical, swirls the very perception and makes us see only the red and blinds us to all that is beauteous and joyful. We fail to realise its impact till the water is above the nose and the congestion makes its presence felt in overbearing stress and strain, melancholy and hopelessness utterly oblivious of the fact that this, too shall pass. We donot realise that the time lost in negative state is denial of simple, human joys we amply deserve day in and day out. 

The tools of expression of negativity are numerous- fear, anger, sorrow-to name a few. The expressions may take any number of forms e.g. hurting words, sarcasm, cynical smile or laugh, blast, physical hurt or plain sulking or violent silence. Every gesture or tone, tenor or demeanour of negativity is unwelcome for everyone-be it human friends or kin or even the pets well known for their unconditional love. 

Howsoever close a person may be when it comes to negative perceptions and expressions thereof, the  acceptance of the same is seldom voluntary and more often than not it is grudging acceptance. No wonder, in situations as such one may behave like a father (as in 'My Father Had a Bad Night') who fails to take simple fever of his son normally/ stoically. Our mood swings are directly affected by the resistible yet unavoidable conduct and disposition of the person who, unfortuately is in trap of devious negativity.

The triggers of negativity are abound in every nook and corner-the litter on the streets, the sites of unhygienic, unclean roads, the unfriendly weather, the persons with negative aura, the newspaper  true reporting of state of affairs of crime and agitations, the messy traffic and poor road sense, the delays in whatever-to name a few. Besides, the negativity stealthily emanates from people at work, their behavioural patterns, the non achievement of targets, the complaints' galore, the attitudinal issues of bosses and subordinates, the working conditions et aL. Almost anything and everything which does not go as per our own individual parameters seems negative, annoys, saddens or causes its 'hit' in expression of our moods. The more close to heart an issue, the greater the impact of negativity trigger. 

They say 'light at the end of the tunnel' but I feel the tunnel of negativity can be frightening and aloof, eerie and challenging, hugely patience testing and difficult. Unless one is blessedly vigilant, it can pave way for damage irreparable. The time it consumes is the time lost forever. Howsoever 'conscious' and spiritually enlightened one may be, negativity has ample capacity to catch one unawares and push all one's goodness and humanity behind. It poses the severest of tests to our fortitude and resilience. The million dollar question is: shall we let ourselves go as per its satanic command or stand our ground firmly to let it pass or push its demonic tentacles with grace and dignity, patience and perseverance? Once in negative fold, we donot accept the presnec or availability of choices, we feel limited, shut, withdrawn, surrendering our abilities to Her Highness, Neagtivity.

When we ourselves become the cause of spreading it, it leads to guilt and when we become the butt and are at receiving end, it affects our perceptions, relations and inherent goodness that each one of us  is abundantly blessed with. 

I feel it is our utmost duty to guard ourselves against any kind of negativity. It needs a tough handling. Moving away from place, person, situation causing negativity may always not be a matter of choice but definitely helps if so done. Prayer, meditation, ability to forgive and also forget are the traits, I feel we need to develop to save our souls. Above all the faith and trust that 'Sun is still in the sky and shining above us' and ability to sing: 'deep in our heart/we do believe/ we shall overcome..'.

Passion for the Lens

In childhood, it was a dream that some day I would have a camera of my own and the whole world would be mine. It was a big big thing -sort of unreachable as cameras have tradionally been treated as expensive and anyone having it seemed to have a different aura, would seem to possess something extraordinary, a magic like thing. And the one using a camera, too, would act  different, a -little -above- all-thing about himself (as generally those in possession were from  rich families). I think most of us in adolescence had 'My Hobby's  as 'Photography' as camera used to be much coveted thing. I cannot describe in words how happy I felt when my eldest sister Neelam didi brought a Vivitar for me from France when I was 25. It is another matter that her Nikon was more an attraction for me with a detatchable flash.

Pursuing this hobby used to be a costly and time consuming indeed. From a thing of romance( for me in 1970s) till the turn of the century, camera in a fon is a real in-thing adorning eveyone (proud to be) Indian or native of another land in any part of the world. This pride possession is visible in every nook and corner held high and above in a (more often than not) right hand taking a 'selfie' or plain clicking anything and everything that catches the eye. Not just taking a shot but also looking admirably after a click is such a common sight that sometimes I really wonder how parched our lives were before advent of this tiny little hidden thing in our smart phones, how very deprived we human beings had been till such time that Nokia, motorola and Samsung and Apple (and my dear BlackBerry)  came on the scene to offer this magical gift with varied pixels and features. Its a real dream come true to click the 'good morning', the soaked rainy afternoon, the charming green evening and the neon lighted late evenings. Nay..not just to click but also to share in an instant the same with the near and dear ones in distant lands. 

I had always been a camera shy person for reasons quite obvious but now fiddling with it gives me a child like pleasure. True, am not a good selfie taker but catching the sea or hills, rain or sunshine and sharing I generally do. I think cell camera is a good means to lull to rest the narscistic tendencies in us. The good shot followed by showing it to others around pacifies our overflowing urge to be appreciated. The adolescent girls, the young boys and even the children can be seen in every street and blind alley using the lens- the joy that the visually impaired children are sadly deprived of. Once a very renowned photographer late Mr Yog Joy had shared with  Amrita Pritam (Saat hastakshar) that the only sorrow he had was that lens could not portray dreams. True. Am reminded of Shakespeare's : we are such stuff/that dreams are made of/and our little life is surrounded/ with a sleep.' Till we actually exist its the 'thing of joy' and once gone, who knows, the best of what we could never shoot, may be there for the world to see! 

The Cellular Jail

' Watan ki aabroo ka paas dekhen koun karta hai/suna hai aaj maktal mein hamara imtihaan hoga' (Jagdamba Prasad Mishr 'Hitaishi')


Port Blair for me had only one meaning-my mother's memory of the Cellular Jail during her maiden visit to the place. Whenever she would recall how she felt having been to the Cellular Jail, her feeble voice murmured, shook and one could feel tears in the eyes and her choked words would give goosebumps as she would reminisce the height of torture the freedom fighters underwent at what was called 'kaala paani'-the forsaken place from where once in, the hope to return was nil.

  

It was like being with her that I visited the Cellular Jail and at the entrance the inscription read: ' ye tirth maha tirthon ka/mat kaho ise kaala paani/tum suno yanha ki dharti ke /kan kan se gaatha balidani.' The guide, well versed in history explained the concept how jail came into existence and was used to house mainly those Indians who rebelled against the tyrannies of the British Raj and were sentenced to rigorous life imprisonment. Every cell was 13x 7 ft with no provision of electricity and the day light could enter only through a small window which was covered in such a manner that the inmate could not see outside. The front was typical jail gate with latch on the side and this prison had the capacity to accommodate 693 prisoners. 

  Veer Savarkar who was sentenced twice the life imprisonment (fifty years) was also sent here in 1911 and he remained here for ten years. His was the special cell now named 'Savarkar Cell' as he was considered the most perilous of all prisoners. His brother too was in the same jail and for two years neither of them knew that they were in the same prison. Mostly the prisoners had to wear cross or bar fetters while they walked to workplace to grind coconut oil-the most arduous of tasks . The inability to accomplish daily target meant open  flogging leading to insanity or death of many of them. The jail had Gallows too which could hang three persons at a time and it was located centrally to enable all see it that incase of disobedience, this could be their fate, too. Nobody can tell how many were hanged during the eight decades of existence of this jail till 1938. The story of atrocious Dan Barry reminded one of General Dyer whose brazen, heartless decision  caused huge loss of innocent lives in Jalianwala Bagh.

 The three storeyed jail has an imposing structure in a triangular shape with tower in between for vigil of theprisoners. The saga of freedom struggle is powerfully delineated in the sound and light show with voice overs by Om Puri and Manohar Singh, the anchor. The place was declared National Memorial in 1979. 

Ii is so hard to imagine how the freedom fighters in prison cell of 13x7ft could languish for years and years with no communication or contact with any of inmates except through the chanting of slogans of Vande Matram, Bharat Mata ki Jai and Inqelab Zindabad. 

The long queues of people outside the Cellular Jail is a positive sign of people desirous of visiting the place and pay obeisance to memory of our freedom martyrs. I came back carrying memory of my mother how she must have felt.  I kept wondering whether we, the second and third generation since our country became an independent Republic  sensitive enough to feel the same way for those who died so that we could live honourably.  This place is a must visit to shake our own complascencies that what we have got today in abundance we owe to those who could also live life comfortably but they chose to stand for their mother India and did not care for their own kith, kin nor of their own lives and compelled the foreign rulers to flee the country.    I came out with deep sense of gratitude and value and love for my country. The whole place reverberated with the spirit of patriotism as if the would of those indomitable brave revolutionaries still resided there to bless their dear countrymen and instil in them the same fervour and ferocity of loyalty to their motherland.

It is definitely a must visit pilgrimage for all Indians to sensitise our own selves as well as our next generations for how our country became free and at what cost and how our forefathers laid down their lives so that we could live in a free country with '   our heads held high and mind without fear .' 

The Celebration Called Life

Life -the very word denotes liveliness, positivity, celebration. The spirit of celebration is imbued in life. On looking back, I feel that both my father and mother meant to teach us this- life is celebration. Even a cursary glance down the memory lane reveals how the celebratory moods were not confined to just the festivals of Diwali, Holi but 'Halwa' would be cooked or sweets were brought on all special days like Lohri, Republic Day,  Baisakhi, Independence Day.  On a rainy day the question hurled to us, the kids was: 'jal thal hoga ki nahi' and incase of heavy rain, mangoes' box marked thankfulness to Him  and sharing of joy with family. The kind of celebration would be different but the spirit was common- sharing happiness with gratitude. Even good weather, pleasant evening,  a cloudy morning, a drizzle in June or a starry night used to be suffice to kick off the spirit of gaiety. On the other hand the usage of a good word in language spoken or written, a marksheet with distinction in subject of English (rest of the subjects didn't matter), the narration of an appreciation by a teacher in the class (with emphasis on 'Kataria') would call for a 'chhaal' (jump) by Pitaji and 'inaam'(prize) of rupees ten. A neatly written letter, a good cup of tea, an impactful oration too could mean a call for the Celebration. 

I often wonder that with passage of time the spirit of celebration should go up or wane? In case of my parents it always went up howsoever long or short their life span was. Why a heartful guffaw oft makes us wonder as to when was it last that I had such a hearty laugh? Why every celebration would choke the throat or cause a lump? Why every joyous moment makes one cross the fingers so involuntarily and spontaneously? Why a silent prayer would always be there in a family gathering or seeing all enjoying with sense of abandonment?  May be the scarcity and scant ness of the moments of celebration makes us contemplative in face of joy and happiness. But who has caused this scarcity? God has always been abundantly kind and benevolent then how come we, the lesser mortals have 'chosen' to limit the supply of joy to ourselves? The fear of the unknown has always been there since times immemorial, then why do we deny ourselves the small pleasures, the joy of giving and sharing, the spirit of empathy and generosity?

Having lived all the years that each one of us has, the best is for sure yet to come. We only have to let go, take a chance, shrug off the fears of uncertain tomorrow and move a step forward, come out in the open, use our steps to play to the tune of our heart and there it is -the joy of living! 

Three years ago when I bought a bicycle for myself, it gave me the joy even the buying of a car could not give, for cycling ( after thirty three years of having left it ) meant being in the open and letting myself go the way I used to when I was eight years old!  

Today I gathered my guts to go for scuba diving. It was a difficult decision but I thought if I who has always been afraid of water, could do scuba diving, I could do anything. And there I was under the surface into the deep sea near Havelock mesmerised to see the acqua life, the varied coloured fish, jelly fish, the soft looking awesome rocks, the pebbles-all representing life as a whole. It was like being in another world with no choice but to let go once inside the sea. The calmness and the colourfulness I encountered gave me a feel of being in deep meditation when even the consciousness of breathing became non existent. When I came out, it was like having been to a wonderland of fairies !

Thank you, God, for making me feel happy, healthy and positive to partake in celebration called life. 

Anger

The very word is so negative, therefore, it is imaginable what an impact it can have on victims of anyone's anger. Is anger necessary? Controllable? Avoidable? Is it the worst of the vices? Is there any benefit that it may ever accrue? 

 
 Anger accompanies a sense of power that one feels one has over things, people, relationships, circumstances and it emanates from negation of or challenge to that authority. The slightest feel of disobedience or intimidation or denial causes huge surge of anger. 

 Anger is mirror to any unrest, malaise, unease which permeates inside howsoever  undefinable. The more ambiguous this feel, the more violent the expression of anger. Anger may be triggered by a small thing but once it gets vent, it becomes a no-holds-barred situation  where reason and rationality take a backseat, patience turns its face away, compassion becomes conspicuous by absence, love gets lost (for a while atleast). 

 Anger is not an uncommon phenomenon. We see everyone besieged by Anger's sting: Bosses, Parents, Children, employees, politicians, powerful people . Even the saints and sages are not spared by the hideous aura of Anger. 

 What does it or does it really gain anything? Not sure. But definitely once anger is let loose, it loses a lot of goodwill. It has ample power to cause an irreparable damage to psyche of people and mar the joy of things. I don't think it's ever welcome by anyone howsoever docile, humble, obedient follower one may be in a power relationship. The fear it generates and the extent to which it seems unreasonable (more often than not) casts a spell of gloom, helplessness. 

 While anyone who is gripped by it has one reason or the other to justify its hold, the victim always feels it is unjustified, uncalled for, un necessary, unjust, unkind..nay rude and rude through and through.

 Sometimes we blame it on an unfriendly planetary influence or plain frustration caused by someone or something else but invariably the one who gets blasted is a wrong person at a wrong moment.

 It is much better to know how to handle it by counting 1-5 before giving it an expression or to do some 'anulom vilom' or plain inhale deeply ,exhale deeply exercises or to do some 'mantras' jap or do whatever that can be done before this takes over the better of our self, lays a seige, seizes us by collar and makes us utter words which are not in normal parlance ever used by us. More importantly, the tone and tenor and gestrual nuances that are not associated with us generally sneak their way out to hit hard the way evn the words cannot damage.

 The aftermath of anger almost always creates a sense of sorrow, suffering by victim and repentance, sorry feeling by the angry person. In the world of 21st century when familial relationships are waning, soft feelings of love and compassion, affection and selflessness have become rare, negative expressions like anger and rage are not tolerable by anyone. The sharp reactions are not uncommon and the outbursts of protest against this negative feeling with more negative, violent and hostile output are testimony of Anger's non acceptance. God forbid, if ever one encounters an angry saint or sage, it is such a belittling, demeaning feeling-catastrophic beyond any shadow of doubt.

 Life is too short. It calls for celebration. Feelings of love, affection, compassion, empathy make the world a better place to live in and fill it with richness. Lets not mar this enrichment with negativity and feel of penury that Anger has the ability to cause.