Tuesday 12 August 2008
Wednesday 6 August 2008
One afternoon, with five mainas and a little awe
I sit here on my bed next to the window. It is cloudy, and feels like it has just rained though it hasn’t. There is a silence that is only enhanced by the distant crowing of the crow far away.
Suddenly, the silence is broken by the frenzied chirping of three little maina babies that reside, safe from prying eyes and claws, inside the shoebox-nest that my mother and I made for them. Their mother has returned, with something to eat. She squeezes into the nest- it’s small, and there’s three of them in there after all, along with twigs and leaves and yes, even a peacock feather. The chirping becomes more frenzied and louder as they all reach upwards towards her beak. They stretch their little bodies as much as biology would allow them to, their mouths open revealing a triangle of yellow. When I see them I am reminded of how, as a child, pictures of open-mouthed baby birds used to remind me of samosas because of their yellow colour and triangular shape. It makes me smile now, as it must have then.
Their father still visits. This is the most amazing part. And the female maina still comes out of the nest to let him go in and have a peep at his little ones.
Now they have both flown away, leaving the babies in the nest. It is quiet again, as the babies know they can’t make too much noise, as it might be dangerous.
Who taught them that?
Who knows? Who can tell?
Suddenly, the silence is broken by the frenzied chirping of three little maina babies that reside, safe from prying eyes and claws, inside the shoebox-nest that my mother and I made for them. Their mother has returned, with something to eat. She squeezes into the nest- it’s small, and there’s three of them in there after all, along with twigs and leaves and yes, even a peacock feather. The chirping becomes more frenzied and louder as they all reach upwards towards her beak. They stretch their little bodies as much as biology would allow them to, their mouths open revealing a triangle of yellow. When I see them I am reminded of how, as a child, pictures of open-mouthed baby birds used to remind me of samosas because of their yellow colour and triangular shape. It makes me smile now, as it must have then.
Their father still visits. This is the most amazing part. And the female maina still comes out of the nest to let him go in and have a peep at his little ones.
Now they have both flown away, leaving the babies in the nest. It is quiet again, as the babies know they can’t make too much noise, as it might be dangerous.
Who taught them that?
Who knows? Who can tell?
Tuesday 5 August 2008
Of chapatis, chauvinism and other words beginning with the same letters that I would rather not mention
Our society is composed of arrogant fools whose self confidence is derived more from their social status and nawabi than their actual worth.
A conversation that ensued at the dinner table with the family was what started off my thoughts on the subject that ended with the above conclusion.
We eat rotis here, in this part of the world. And at the dinner table usually indicate when we reach the last one so that the woman who is making them in the kitchen doesn't stack them up unnecessarily for them to become stale the next day.
A visiting relative, after indicating his saturation point as far as rotis were concerned, commented on how someone he knew (lets call him Snoot) went to dinner to someone else's home and was very offended when asked to tell how many rotis were needed at the table.
The next day, this personification of arrogance made the most rude and hurtful remark to the woman of the house.
He asked her if her husband was earning well and received his pay checks on time, because "tumhare ghar mein toh gin kar roti banti hai" (in your home, you have to count the rotis before you make them)
Of course, I do not think there is anything wrong at all in finding out beforehand, so that one doesn't waste any food, or effort in making rotis that aren't going to be consumed during the same meal. Others on the table also agreed, but El Padre said that while he didn't think it was wrong, he understood the perspective of the gentleman described above. He said that in north India, it isn't considered socially appropriate to ask how many rotis one will have.
A conversation that ensued at the dinner table with the family was what started off my thoughts on the subject that ended with the above conclusion.
We eat rotis here, in this part of the world. And at the dinner table usually indicate when we reach the last one so that the woman who is making them in the kitchen doesn't stack them up unnecessarily for them to become stale the next day.
A visiting relative, after indicating his saturation point as far as rotis were concerned, commented on how someone he knew (lets call him Snoot) went to dinner to someone else's home and was very offended when asked to tell how many rotis were needed at the table.
The next day, this personification of arrogance made the most rude and hurtful remark to the woman of the house.
He asked her if her husband was earning well and received his pay checks on time, because "tumhare ghar mein toh gin kar roti banti hai" (in your home, you have to count the rotis before you make them)
Of course, I do not think there is anything wrong at all in finding out beforehand, so that one doesn't waste any food, or effort in making rotis that aren't going to be consumed during the same meal. Others on the table also agreed, but El Padre said that while he didn't think it was wrong, he understood the perspective of the gentleman described above. He said that in north India, it isn't considered socially appropriate to ask how many rotis one will have.
Why?
His logic is that if you ask someone if they will have more rotis, they will not say no even if they wanted more.
Now, I think it all depends on the manner in which the question is asked.
Asking someone, "aap roti toh nahi lenge na" (you wont have any more will you?) isnt right, as one doesn't find it comfortable to respond to a negative assumption with an affirmation.
Asking someone "aap roti toh aur lenge" (you will have one more, wont you) is fine, as it assumes that the person will, establishes that you will very much like him to have more, and are only asking to confirm so that you don't burden him with the already prepared roti if he doesn't want one.
Clearly, the Snoot wasn't making his sick and despicable remark because he felt pressured to say no when he wanted to say yes. He clearly thought it was beneath him to mention that he wanted to have 2-3-4 or 18 more rotis, because it was beneath him to have to answer a question of this nature. Nawabs probably didn't do that. The idea being that your social status is determined by the fact that you can afford to waste a few rotis and allow the food to spill over even if it isnt required, because you are well off enough to be able to spare a few extra grains of wheat.
What a shame. And what a sad person he is, if he has to prove his superiority in this manner- by downgrading the status of another. Of course, without giving sufficient regard to the fact that this man may have been an acquaintance of my visiting relative, I made my views about his behaviour quite clear.
Also, how come no one objects to this when one is paying for the rotis out of their own pockets at a restaurant? Do we not indicate to the waiter, whether more bread is needed? Or do we, Mr Snoot, wait for him to bring a basketful before us, and charge us for it?
Now, I think it all depends on the manner in which the question is asked.
Asking someone, "aap roti toh nahi lenge na" (you wont have any more will you?) isnt right, as one doesn't find it comfortable to respond to a negative assumption with an affirmation.
Asking someone "aap roti toh aur lenge" (you will have one more, wont you) is fine, as it assumes that the person will, establishes that you will very much like him to have more, and are only asking to confirm so that you don't burden him with the already prepared roti if he doesn't want one.
Clearly, the Snoot wasn't making his sick and despicable remark because he felt pressured to say no when he wanted to say yes. He clearly thought it was beneath him to mention that he wanted to have 2-3-4 or 18 more rotis, because it was beneath him to have to answer a question of this nature. Nawabs probably didn't do that. The idea being that your social status is determined by the fact that you can afford to waste a few rotis and allow the food to spill over even if it isnt required, because you are well off enough to be able to spare a few extra grains of wheat.
What a shame. And what a sad person he is, if he has to prove his superiority in this manner- by downgrading the status of another. Of course, without giving sufficient regard to the fact that this man may have been an acquaintance of my visiting relative, I made my views about his behaviour quite clear.
Also, how come no one objects to this when one is paying for the rotis out of their own pockets at a restaurant? Do we not indicate to the waiter, whether more bread is needed? Or do we, Mr Snoot, wait for him to bring a basketful before us, and charge us for it?
So is it a question of disregard for an other's effort and money, whereas one holds one's own dear?
I am puzzled by how one's ego can be deflated by this most simple and non controversial question. How is it that one can feel offended when asked about one's dietary requirements?
All this is also, in my humble opinion, related in a subtle way to patriarchal values and customs.
How?
You think the women who cook for themselves and are last to eat keep going, without deciding in advance about which will be the last roti?
Men who take offence to such trivial things, are those men, who in a patriarchal set up, eat first, and feel rather king-like when the women serve them*. They probably feel that they needn't worry about these petty things, because even if the rotis are extra and piling up, the women who eat after they are done will happily consume them.
Like nawabs, whose slaves would take of the remains after they are done.
(*Seriously. Such men make me sick. They wouldn't even lift a finger to pick a slice of cucumber off the salad plate and expect their wives, daughters and daughter in laws to scurry about, fussing over them.)
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