The Folded Sleevs....
“I remember you very well; you had folded your shirt sleeves when you appeared for the interview” claimed Venky, my Tamil colleague at the Shoppers Stop. He was always well dressed, although he too worked at the same level as I did, Trainee Customer Care Associate. He was close to my heart, we discussed all our problems and things that made us laugh. I went back to the day when I had come for the interview for the job that paid 3200 a month. That was the time when I had no experience and was desperately looking for jobs. I went round and round places. My results were not yet out. People across the desk would ask me “Do you have a 12th pass certificate?” I didn’t know what to tell them. I was desperate to start working and earning my own money. One fine morning I saw the Shopper’s Stop ad, I decided to try my luck out there. I can remember exactly the only pair of formals that I had at that time. The shirt was old and bought from Janpath, a street where you get cheap stuff. It was of course branded and costed me just 100 bucks. But there was one not so serious problem with the shirt; the sleeves were shorter than my long hands. So every time I went for interview, I would give them one fold.
My school shoes were no good for job interviews. I used my dad’s outdated heeled shoes. Shopper’s stop was not far from my home. Just walking distance, I got all dressed up and headed for interview. Once I was there, I saw a sea of faces of people who had come there for the job. I always felt good when I was in my only pair of formals. Most of them were from the North Eastern part of India. Although I felt good, still I felt dumb when people looked at me as if they were laughing at my formals and the school tie on an Aigner Shirt. I followed the procedure of submitting my resume with the receptionist and waiting for my name to be called out. I waited for a very long time, finally I decided during the lunch break to go out and soothe my tummy with some chhole bhature. It was striking when I saw hundreds of people eating at eateries like McDonalds and just outside the mall there were people like me eating at 5Rs a plate at a Thela. I came back and waited, still there were no signs of my name being called out. I kept thinking of approaching the beautiful receptionist. But then I was too conscious and frightened at the idea of speaking to such a beautiful girl. Finally I gathered some courage and walked up to her and asked her “My name has not been called out yet, I’ve been waiting since 10 in the morning”, I made conscious efforts of speaking grammatically correct English. She asked for my name, and checked in her papers and said that my name had been called out but I was not there. I felt like a moron then, she asked me to wait till all the candidates were interviewed. So I was the last candidate for the day. I didn’t mind, as my home was nearby. I preferred to stay out of the office as it was already looking like the passport office, No space to stand. Everybody was trying to grab the free cup of coffee from the Nescafe vending machines inside the office. I preferred going out and listening to some free music at the Music World. I loved walking around the mall and checking and adoring accessories and apparels which were far out of reach for a person like me. I managed to report back at the office before I could miss the second chance to appear for the interview.
Finally my name was called out and I got into the HR Manager’s cabin, he was a tall fellow and looked suitable for his position. First his eyes scanned me from my shirt collar to the heels of my outdated pair of shoes. He signalled towards the chair, I bowed and greeted him. He was looking at my folded sleeves, I sensed the trouble. Finally he broke the silence and asked me why I was dressed in formals; I said it feel good to be in formals. The question that followed was something unexpected, “Why have you folded your sleeves?” I couldn’t say anything but gave a false excuse “Sir it was hot outside.” I gave him an apologetic look, as if I had committed a crime by folding my sleeves. I tried to fit in my arms into the sleeve, must say that I managed that pretty well. I managed the interview well and I knew that my chances of getting through were good………
Friends in this age.
It was a slow Sunday morning, I had logged into my email account to check e-mails and laugh at the jokes that I’ve read time and again. There was no one was online to occupy my time. Bored, I started to explore the settings of my e-mail account. I came across the contact list that had kept growing, never edited, ever since I had created the account. There were close to 200 names, addresses of former colleagues, bosses and classmates.
As I went through the list, I was reminded of the last time that I had spoken to each one of them. The bad times, the good times, the times that would repeat all came rushing back. One by one, I started taking off the names that were no longer relevant. The days gone by rolled like a film in front of me. Every name had some memory, some story attached to it. Each had played a part in my life at some part of time. Today, it is very common to make new friends and forget the old ones. It could be because now more than ever, people change jobs, schools frequently. Life moves fast, faster than it has ever moved in the past.
I envy my dad, as he has friendships that date back to his school days. The fact is that all friends in life are temporary. Everything in today’s world has an expiry date and they all end with time, things of daily consumption and friendships, relations they all end with time. It was just about a year and a half back when I would spend early morning hours with my office colleagues at the Dhaba during early morning hours outside our office. We would discuss our office problems and try and devise a solution for them. Now I don’t even get to talk to those friends. The word “Transitional” explains it all; every one wants to establish that comfort level for whatever time they are around with you and then just forget you and move on.
While leaving jobs, we just see our migration from one company to another one at a good package, but we fail to see the good old colleagues that we develop through a course of time. For some time, memories live. They fade away with time; we loose touch then online touch too. The digital thread that binds us is not strong enough as is claimed by the IT people. We move with jobs, with colleges, with schools with times. Every name carried some importance at one point of time, but with time their importance fades… Finally the identities die and we take them off our lists.
The digital age is a great contributor in increasing the distance between people, friends. Thinking of my office I remember of what I did. Earlier people used to go to everyone individually and wish them. Now instead of what happened previously, they just log into their accounts and say hellos to all their friends. Chat limits one’s talks to hi’s and hello’s. I don’t remember to have chatted in details; it was just few keys that I pressed on the keyboard. Life has become easier, but the distances between people have increased.
As I walk back from College to my Hostel everyday, I ask myself how long I would manage to be in touch with my classmates, the teachers who teach me here. The answers never come back. May be I also got into the digital format like others….
A Small incident...
“I’ve been trying to get in touch with him since Tuesday. And no one seems to be responding to the call, where do you think he’ gone?” I asked my friend Arvind. It all seemed to have happened just yesterday. But a number of years have passed since I was in the 9th standard.
It was during one of the term exams that Saurabh was caught cheating. As a result his paper was cancelled. I knew his problem; he didn’t study well and gave all his time to cricket. I requested our subject teacher to re-consider Saurabhs’s case. Finally by the end of the day, Ms. Sodhi our history teacher agreed to let him re-appear for the test the next day.
He was broken; being a friend I accompanied him all the way to his colony gates. He was a happy kid, but it was just not his day. I used to call some of my friends in the evenings; he too was one of them. I tried calling him that day too, but nobody replied.
Saurabh didn’t come to the school the next day. I had to bear the brunt of having taken his side in front of Ms. Sodhi. She was angry at me and blamed me for taking his side. “See I told you, you dare not come to me again as an advocate of Saurabh, I know him very well, he must be playing cricket somewhere, while we wait for him to write the exam.” I had no argument, dejected; I walked back to my class. Throughout the day, I kept regretting to have requested for Saurabh, how dumb I was to request for people as useless as him. He, like me was regular, attended school, but skipped some classes occasionally.
I tried reaching him again, but to no avail, nobody replied. I kept calling him for the next 2 days. It was strange, I sensed some trouble. I asked for his flat number from our common friend Arvind. First I thought I would visit his flat, but then I thought I would rather keep calling him. Finally on the 4th day his brother picked up the call, I asked for Saurabh. He came on the phone.
Me: Hi Saurabh! Kaisa hai yaar? (How are you man?)
Saurabh: Hi Pukhraj, Can I talk to you later?
Me: Why Yaar? Come to the grounds. We’ll play some cricket.
Saurabh: Yaar, I really can’t talk to you now. Can we talk some other day?
Me: But what is it? Tell me Yaar? What is it that’s troubling you? Is Sodhi troubling you?
Saurabh: No yaar “(He said with slightly irritated tone)
Me: Acha, Can you come down? We can meet and talk at your colony gates?
Saurabh: Wait… I’ll come in 10 minutes.
I waited for him, I felt uncomfortable, and I had never felt like this before. May be because most of the times I waited for him to go to the grounds and play. There was something odd in his tone. Finally he showed up, he looked like as if he hadn’t slept for a long time. To sum up his condition in one word, I would say he looked hysterical. I said hi, to which he didn’t reply. He was trying to conceal something from me.
As we walked towards the park, I asked him several questions, he kept quiet throughout. Seated in the park, we looked up at the setting sun, finally he broke down and cried and said “My Father’s no more…He died of a heart attack day before yesterday.” Everything seemed to have stopped for that moment, the noise that came from the kids playing in the park faded. The moment froze, I had no words. I didn’t know what to say. I looked at his face and thought of the days ahead of him. He was still a kid just like me. Saurabh was a happy child, why him? I asked myself, the God. I walked back home and kept wondering about Saurabhs’s position.
The next day I informed my class teacher about it. And as friends, we all as a class decided to go to his place to comfort him, to show him that we were all there for him when he needed us the most. We all went to his place, sat there for a while, while we were told by his uncle how it all happened. A sudden chest pain as it happens in most cases. He was rushed to the hospital, but didn’t make it. After sitting there for a while we all decided to leave, Saurabh asked to stay for some time and started arranging for tea, we all politely said no to the tea, leaving that for some other day.
I still remember, I was the only one of the group who took some time leaving his place. I talked to Saurabh for a while and hugged him; I knew he needed that the most. I walked back home that day thinking about Saurabhs’s life from that point onwards.
Although we both got into different streams after our 10th standard, but for the two years, the 9th and the 10th standard, I helped him on academic as well as Personal fronts and continue to do so till date. Just one incident changed the way I looked at him, changed the way we took each other as.
Freedom of Expression ?
Recently the social networking site www.orkut.com was in news when the Bombay High Court ordered the state Government to initiate legal proceedings against it in response to a Public Interest Litigation (PIL) filed by advocate Yugant R Marlapalle. The website is a host to a “We Hate India” Community by a Russian Miraslov Stankovic. It states that the community is against all those people who are against Pakistan. The community has a picture of people burning the Indian Tri-Color. It reads “The Sole purpose of the community isn’t meant to offend India; it’s against those people who are against Pakistan.” It also talks about India’s oppressive and hostile approach. After the news of the High Court was out the number of members of the community went down from 100 to 91.
Marlapalle, a lawyer by profession claimed that he was in for the freedom of speech but not at the expense of the rights of the people of India. On the other had, a Google Official said that just like offline world, there are some people who may object to some things in the online world too. One has to agree with the Terms of Service in order to post comments and communities Orkut. Google has taken the issue seriously and might remove the community if it is not complying with the Terms of Service. The Orkut case is a reminder of the blog banning controversy in India where in the backlash from the masses resulted in Government waiving off the ban off the blogs.
India which is already grappling with the terrorist menace needs to regulate the content to some extent as it is suspected that the community has been started by some terrorist groups and sympathizers based in Pakistan. In such cases, websites like Orkut can very well be used to spread hate and propaganda. This again comes under the incitement of violence, keeping this in mind; the community should be taken off.
This case raises lots of questions, some for the order and some against the order. Terminating or banning a community would mean curbing the Freedom of Expression [Article 19(1A)]. But the freedom of expression is subject to reasonable restrictions when it comes to the Sovereignty and Integrity of India. “We Hate India” community targets India on behalf of Pakistan. This targets the friendly relations between the two countries.
This can also be taken as a case under 124(a) that deals with the Sedition, which targets one who by words or by expression of any kind or attempts to bring or provoke a feeling of hatred, contempt or disaffection towards the Government established by law.
The Indian Constitution provides little protection against the banning or censorship. Although it professes to give all citizens “The freedom of speech and expression” that is qualified by so many exceptions which are called reasonable restrictions. These include the sovereignty of India, security of the state, public decency and morality etc. These restrictions make almost all protections meaningless. It falls upon Government bureaucrats to decide what falls within what exceptions. It is because of the reason that India had a long period wherein the government was allowed by the masses to regulate the content that citizens can watch.
Where once censorship was taken for granted, it is now debated, and the army of news websites that have recently opened shop regularly feature debates on the subject. Such voices are still few, and these protests not yet loud enough to counter the regressive forces that routinely stifle freedom of expression in India. But they are growing, and offer hope for India’s future.
Old Fashioned Government
Being in a Journalism School, we are supposed to do some stories every week. My mentor wants me to do two stories this week; I am left to decide the content for my stories. Well before I go any further, I must write a disclaimer. I neither want to sound bookish nor want to sound like some author. I would write the way I normally write. Most of the times, I don't write, but scribble. Well let me move from confessions.
So I started thinking what stories to do, flipping through the days newspaper, I saw that the police is Chennai recently raided a three star pub. The reason given by the police was, pub flouting timeline set by the Prohibition & Excise Department.
It is sad, but true that even though we all live in a free country, we are not free when it comes to deciding on things that we actually want to do. Well I must talk about the Indian ministers; they change colours with the surroundings. When addressing youth, they are all in for the liberalisation. But on the other hand, when they address the elders in the community, they blame it all on the Western Countries. India, today is the back office for the world, and that’s something accepted by all and China the factory for the World.
I myself worked in the BPO Industry for nearly 3 years, and I feel that if Indian Government wants to attract foreign players, it need to think about various things. It can’t simply ignore the Western ways of doing things. Cities like Delhi, Bangalore and Mumbai are adapting themselves to the changing scene and the taste of people.
Just yesterday, by chance I met a Danish Journalist, Tommy Brandi Krog. I asked him just one question “What do you think about the operational restrictions on Pubs and Bars in Chennai?” to which he answered “Well, Government in here, is old fashioned whereas people are not”. A very interesting point indeed, we are the ones who select a party to govern us. But when I say we, am I really addressing the people? Well I don’t think so. People that Tommy talked about are people of my age group which is 20-25. So I got my answer and that too in a tone which sounded like a warning for the TN Government, “You better mend your ways, or no more business for you.” (**To whomsoever it may concern**)
Today I had the privilege of interviewing Mr. Sandeeprai Rathore, Joint Commissioner of Police (JCP) for Chennai Central. He got furious when I used the word moral policing. He claimed that there exists no moral policing at any level. Adding on to that he claimed that they are least bothered about what people wear. Ok!! Mr Rathore, your point taken, he doesn’t even know that some guests at the hotel that was raided were misbehaved with by his men. Anyways I lost Mr. Rathore, who can win Police in India. “If police is lenient in these matters, then press will say that the Hotel owners greased my palms” hmmm. So Mr. Policeman is afraid of Press. I kept wondering, what if there were no press?
