Mardani legal eagle

Which teenager girl would like to have pimples on her face? But at fifteen she prayed everyday for her face to be covered with pimples. She would pierce the pimples and they would leave ugly scars and marks. That is what her objective was. Vidya Babasaheb Hingmire wanted her face to be ugly. That was the only way in which she could escape marriage and continue her studies. 

On the night of 1st October 1982 young 15 years old bride was in labour pains. She was carrying her first child. There was family pressure to produce a male offspring. Her first child was born. But it was a girl child. The house became gloomy as if somebody had died. A girl child was a huge liability. She had to be married off by paying hefty dowry. No wonders naming ceremony of the child was a low key affair with only the immediate family members attending it. As per custom, the honour of naming the child was with the paternal aunt. She whispered the name in the little girl's ears - Vidya, meaning knowledge. 

Vidya stood true to her name. She had a quest to learn. She would see her mother being beaten up by her drunkard father. Her mother was already weak owing to the four deliveries between the tender age of fifteen to twenty. Then too her father would pulverize her bones in the presence of their children. Vidya a bright child understood that it was wrong. However, she could do little about it. That made her feel terribly guilty. Why couldn't she confront her father and save her mother from the brutal beatings? 

The answer was she was not strong. She knew that education was the only panacea for her problems. She was determined to become an Advocate and save millions of helpless wives like her mother from domestic violence. But in a household which treated women and footwear alike, even having a dream without the men's permission was an offence.

No sooner did Vidya achieve puberty her father was on a look out for a groom. Men double her age would come to see her. But her face with blemishes ensured that she was not selected. In India marriage is a big affair. But women, especially the would be bride has little say in it.  She has to devise her own means like Vidya did to escape the ordeal of being a child bride and early motherhood.

Vidya's hunch proved correct. She was allowed to go to school. The school was a kilometer away from her home. One lecherous man followed her to the school everyday. She would walk to the school. He would come on bicycle from behind and touch her inappropriately. If she had told about it at home, one thing was sure - her schooling would have been stopped. Poor young girls mature early. Vidya started going to school along with another girl Nafisa. Nafisa was two years senior to her. For Vidya she was a blanket of security. 

However, soon Nafisa passed out of the school and again the molester began following her. Having no option left Vidya narrated her sufferings to her mother.  Her mother was worried. Her cousin resided in the nearby lane. Vidya's mother went to his house and fell at his feet. She pleaded him to look into the matter albeit her husband's knowledge. The kind hearted brother assured her that she should relax and Vidya will not be harassed. The molester received a beating at Vidya's uncle's hands and the harassment stopped. 

Vidya hailed from a well to do family. They had a pucca house with three floors. The upper two were let out ensuring monthly inflow of cash from rents. There were six buffaloes, a small grocery shop and 2 acres of land. However, spending on girl’s education was considered a waste. Free education up to class 12th had ensured that money never came between Vidya and her studies.

However, now that she had completed her 12th class, Vidya was worried about paying fees for higher education. She broached the subject with her father when he was in a good mood. He plainly refused to shelve out money for her higher education that too of law. “Who will marry a lawyer girl? Nobody wants a girl who is a fighter cock in their house.” He said. 

Vidya had to fend for herself. She worked as a receptionist at a doctor's clinic during vacation and collected money for her fees. 

Now that he did not have to shelve out money from his pockets, Vidya’s father did not have any objection to Vidya continuing her studies until she got married. However, her mother was very weak. Doctor had advised her knee replacement. But her father was unwilling to pay the hefty amount for the expensive surgery. As a result Vidya had to fill in for her mother in the kitchen. She had to tend to the buffaloes and do all the chores which her mother did. 

Vidya entered the gates of the law college. She always wanted to become a lawyer. But the biggest hurdle was the medium of instruction. She had studied in Marathi up to 12th standard and she had problems comprehending English. She drilled the legal terms while she carried baskets of cow dung from the cattle shed. The first year exams were over. Vidya waited for the results. She had nightmares of marrying an old man who treated her exactly the same way her father treated her mother. During day time her job as a receptionist ensured that she was busy. But in the nights she would worry about her results. Finally the results were out. Vidya had failed in two subjects. That night she cried all the night.

She had collected money for education through her job as a receptionist. However now that she had failed her father strongly opposed her studies and asked her to sit at home. Vidya continued with her job as a receptionist. She befriended her class mates who had now gone to the higher class. She went to their homes. She asked for their help in studies which they graciously offered. They even gave her the subject notes which they had prepared. Vidya appeared again for the examination and this time she passed. 

Vidya's five year law course was not a bed of roses. Her mother's illness, her father's tantrums and need to self-fund her education ensured that she did not attend her college regularly. As a result she failed in almost every year. But she reappeared and passed the examinations. She was no more marriageable. Her age was advancing, her face had blemishes and she was studying law. Everybody from her community wanted a young, beautiful, homely girl. Her father had to get rid of his other responsibilities. So Vidya's younger sister was married off. 

Finally Vidya became a lawyer. She went to the court wearing a coat which she had purchased from her own money. That was a very proud moment for her. On her return her father asked how much money she had made. She replied none. She and her father did not know that there is a gestation period of few years in the legal profession for a newbie to earn money. 

Vidya meticulously learnt the niceties of the court functioning. She worked very hard. But it was very difficult for a woman to stand in a small town. Her father would demand her monthly lodging and boarding charges. As she was unable to pay it there was no relief from household chores. Her mother fell down in the bathroom and broke her hip. She was bedridden. She soiled her bed and Vidya cleaned it. Vidya had to take a break for few months to look after her mother. 

Her brother got married and Vidya was partially relieved of her domestic duties. She was contemplating moving to a big city in search of better prospects. She had applied at few law firms. But soon her sister-in-law left to her maternal house to give birth to her first child. At the same time even Vidya's sister came for her first delivery. Again Vidya was overburdened with domestic duties. The tiny toddlers brought lot of happiness into her life. She forgot her struggles with the smiles on their radiant faces. After three months the sister-in-law returned and took up the charge of kitchen.

Vidya determined to make her mark in the legal profession went to Pune. Currently she is practising as an advocate at Pune. She handles family matters. She fights for seeking justice to poor women who are victims of domestic violence. She says it is Krishna who gave her all the courage to fight battles of life. Salute to this real life Mardani!

This is written as a part of I am Mardaani activity exclusively at BlogAdda.com for Indian Bloggers.

Trip to Cambodia

“Aai, it is your birthday. I want to gift you something. What do you want?”

I asked my Mom on her 60^th birthday.

“Nothing son, God has given me everything.”

“Then too... I want to gift you something. How about a silk saree?’

“My cupboard is overflowing with sarees. I don’t even wear the ones which I already have. I am planning to donate some of them to the nearest Mahilashram.”

“Then how about a golden necklace?”

“These days murders of senior citizens are on a rife. I don’t want to lose my life for a piece of gold. As I said you I have got everything including a nice son like you.”

“How about a foreign tour?” I asked my mother. The twinkle in her eyes was quite noticeable.  My mother always wanted to go abroad. In fact my father had even promised her to take on a vacation once she retires. My mother retired in February 2013 and my father passed away as a result of massive heart attack in January 2013.  

“If you are insisting so much let us go. But what I will do in nightclubs of Bangkok and Singapore?”

“We will not go to Bangkok or Singapore. We will go to see temples.” I said and rushed to my room. I took out my bank account statement. I could easily spend Rs.100000 for the trip. I also could afford to have Rs.20000 as cash in hand.

So I had all the money. But planning for a trip started giving me goose bumps. I changed sides on my bed. I remembered skyscanner.co.in and felt relaxed.

“We welcome you to Malaysia Airlines. This flight is bound for Siem Rep. The total journey time from Mumbai to Siem Rep is 11 hrs 50 min. There will be a halt at Kuala Luampur.  We wish you a happy journey.” Said the air hostess.  I saw my watch. It showed 23.55.

In no moments the plane took off and we were in the clouds. I had seen picture of Angkor Wat temples as a child. Since then I always hankered to visit it. Today my dream was just few hours away from me.

We landed at Siem Reap   Airport at  13.15. The taxi was waiting for us to take us to our hotel Le Mreidien Angkor.

The next morning we had breakfast at our hotel Taxi was waiting for us to take out.

“First take us to the Angkor Wat temple premises.” I told the driver.

“Sir everyone wants to go first to the Angor Wat.” Said the driver with a cherubic smile.

We were at the Angkor Wat complex. My dream was standing before my own eyes. Its splendor was indescribable. The temples seemed to be alive. The stone edifice was throbbing with poetry. Sculptures depicting scenes from Mahabharata and Ramayana adorned the walls of the temple. Elephants, chariots, celestial dancers were intricately carved on the walls.  Lotus flowers smiling from ponds near the temples added to the serene beauty of the atmosphere.

I held my mother’s hand tightly and said “I want to stay here forever.”

“I doubt if you can do that. For the driver is waiting out for us. We have hired the cab for four days.”

“Aai. Your pragmatic approach brought me back to the earth from heaven.”

We again sat in our Taxi. Our next destination was Buddist temple at Wat bo village. “I am peace.” I mentally chanted and peace engulfed me from all the sides.
Next we headed for the market. We had fish pedicure. I could see my mother getting excited like a child.

“Enough for the day.” Our dirver declared.

The next day we headed to Phnom Pneh. Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum made me cry.  I remembered my father. Tears swelled up in my eyes and my hands folded in prayer for all the departed souls at the Killing fields.

Our destination for the next day was former French colony Bokor Hill Station. We chilled out and I picked up few Khmer words.

In the last leg of our trip we went to the local market at Sien Reap. I purchased a metal Buddha statue after much haggling. We purchased gifts for friends and relatives.

We boarded the return flight for Mumbai. My mother held my hand tightly and said “Thank you very much. You made my dream come true.” She continued to shake my hand. I realized my whole body was shaking.

“Wake up Mahesh. Don’t dream. Thanks to you, blog adda and Skyscanner. I am  going on my first foreign trip today. Thank God! My son won the contest.”  

Expenses

Return Air fare for 2     

63528

Hotel 28/09/2014 to 02/10/2014

Le Meridien Angkor Rs. 25310

Car rental

11162

This post is a part of Skyscanner travel wizard activity at BlogAdda.com

George Washington Carver

My dear George Washington Carver,

You are my inspiration. But why? You were born as a slave. Those were the days when dealing in slaves was a lucrative business. As a result slaves were kidnapped and sold again. Your mother too was kidnapped while you were still a toddler. You never met your mother again. Your mother's white master raised you. You even inherited your name from them. You had speech difficulties. You were given an opportunity of learning because you were too weak for the manual work which the racist expected black like you to do. You had inborn love for nature. You worked hard. You were gardener, domestic help, cook, washer-man. But you were never given an opportunity to be a normal child who could play and sleep by his mother's bosom when tired. You did many such menial tasks, but never drifted from your goal to learn and to serve the community. You made an abandoned stable your home. There were many difficulties. You were denied the very right to live. Still you worked hard. On completion of your education it would have been very easy for you to get a well paying job. But what did you do? You committed yourself to conservation of natural resources. You are one of the earliest proponents of what has now become a worldwide movement of people committed to the respectful use of natural resources. You could have added fortune to fame but caring for neither, you found happiness and honour in being helpful to the world. From where you learnt the skill to remain positive when there was no any ray of hope around? How inspite of all the injustice, that too for no fault of yourself, you maintained the equanimity and served others? You were a great man. But you too were human. If you could conquer the Mount Everest of the difficulties, why can't we face the day to day problems of our luxurious lives? Thank you Mr. Carver for meeting me years after your death through your biographies. You are a light house for all of us who feel defeated with just a few incisive strokes of life.

With all the love and respects.

I am writing about #MyRoleModel as a part of the activity by Gillette India in association with BlogAdda.com.

Wisdom with a cup of tea

I was fuming. I got out of the rickshaw paid the exact change and stood in the serpentine queue at the railway station. “How can he do this to me?” was the question that surfaced my mind time and again. Hari, my brother had point blankly told me that he would not share our parents property with me.

 I was now on a voyage to our childhood.  I recollected how much I loved Hari.   I tended to him. I dressed him up, even shared my share of sweets with him. Often I sacrificed my happiness for the sake of my little brother.  And what was the fruit of all my labour –  I was refused my legitimate share in my parents property.

 My father had built a house, his dream bungalow, after retirement. My mother had left behind a lot of jewellery and bank deposits. Even if Hari had shared one fourth of the property with me, most of my miseries would have been resolved. But Hari, my younger brother, had said all my ties with my parents home were severed the day I left for the city in search of greener pastures. “How could he say that? Does going to another city for job severe all ties with parents, with the womb which gave me  birth, with the blood that circulated in my veins? I was determined to drag my brother to Court of law, to assert and enforce my right.

My reverie was broken as the ticket booking Clerk yelled “Yes ticket…” with an expressionless baritone. I pushed a hundred rupee note from the small window and asked for “One Nasik”

Carefully placing the remainder money and the ticket in my pocket I entered the railway station. The train had already arrived and Pune being the starting point, there was no dearth of seats.  I got the window seat. The train departed at the scheduled time. Cool breeze was coming from the window. However, it utterly failed to cool down my temper. My head had become heavy. It  turned to the shouts of “Chai…..”.   “Ek chai” I placed the order and the Chaiwallah promptly handed over a plastic cup of hot piping tea. I  placed the cup on the little space in the window and started to look for change in my pocket. Finally my hand felt something like a five rupee coin. I handed it over to the tea vendor.  When I was about to touch the cup, that the soothing breeze now turned into a strong wind blew away my cup with it. The tea vendor gave me another cup. I took out  a ten rupee note to pay him. “Jaane do Sir. Chaar saal se dhanda kar raha hoo. Ek chai se main bangle nahi banoonga.” He said as he refused to accept the money. I was stunned.  Indeed stronger are the forces that determine the destinies of men, I realised. I had a sip of tea while I dropped the idea of filing legal proceedings against Hari. I pay my tribute to this unknown man who changed my heart.

I am writing about #MyRoleModel as a part of the activity by Gillette India in association with BlogAdda.com.

Yogananda

Whom you call an inspiration? A person who makes you more efficient, more successful, more rich and stretches you to your limits? The person about whom I am going to talk today has neither inspired me to become more successful nor has he motivated me to work harder. He has taught me to do nothing and just sit silently. Still he is a great source of inspiration for me. In today's age every one will tell you how to work faster and better. That will result in increased levels of stress and anxiety, which in turn cause physical and mental problems. But there are very few who will ask you to slow down. I had seen him many times on the cover of his iconic book Autobiography of a Yogi. The best seller is easily available at all the railway book stalls. I had seen it at the railway stations but it still never arouse any curiosity in my mind. Thereafter one of my friends wrote great things about the book on his blog. That made me to purchase the book. I was travelling to Bangalore from Mumbai. I carried the book authored by Yogananda with me as a time pass in the long journey. The book was very heavy and boring. I met a friend in Mumbai. I gifted her the book and went to see the Bangalore palace. I watched all the belongings of the Maharaja in awe. At the exit one face from the wall stared at me point blank. His eyes pierced into my heart. It was Yogananda's photo with the Maharaja of Mysore. I wondered if it was a message. I returned to Mumbai. But Yogananda had occupied my heart. I brought the book again. I even brought other books authored by him. To my great surprise he was so different from other sages. He had a scientific outlook towards the things. Westerners do not accept anything until it is backed by scientific evidence. Yoganada even turned these sceptic western minds to eastern spirituality by passing the high tests of science. He even convinced my rational mind by appealing to my reason.  He brought regularity into my meditations. He turned me calmer. I can feel his presence around me all the time. He inspires me to slow down, smell the lillies, observe the blue sky and listen to the songs of the birds. While running to achieve lofty ambitions, we are losing our contact with ourselves. Yogananda kindled the spark in me that reconnected me with the real myself. 

I am writing about #MyRoleModel as a part of the activity by Gillette India in association with BlogAdda.com.

Happiest moment of my life

I am writing about #MyRoleModel as a part of the activity by Gillette India in association with BlogAdda.com.

I was browsing through my old slam book. One of the categories in it was titled as “The happiest moment of my life.” For some getting a distinction in the examination had brought the greatest happiness. For some it was the purchase of their first bike or moving into their new home. Someone special had brought the happiest moment in the lives of some. For many the happiest moment in their lives was yet to come.

I pondered over my life and found it was brimming with snippets of happiness. But I love one of them the most. I was in college then. I had to travel by bus to reach my college. Bus no. 203 had a stop near my home. But it was infrequent. Officially there was a bus at the interval of every one hour. However one single bus plied to and fro on the route. As a result if one trip was late, the entire schedule of the bus would go haywire.

Many a times I waited for the bus and it never came or I learnt that it was late. I had to walk two kilometers to get the other bus viz. bus no. 8 from the main bus stand.

Back then we had passes which were manually punched by the bus conductor.  Thus you could travel to and from only once in a day. One day after attending all the classes sincerely, I went to the bus stop to return home. Bus no. 8 had arrived and I boarded it.  A bird in hand is better than two in the bush, I said to myself.  The thought of walking two kilometers to reach home crept in. But I consoled myself by saying that it was better than waiting for indefinite time for bus no. 203.  As the conductor came near me, I gave him my pass to punch. He saw the route mentioned in the bus and told me that bus no. 203 was just behind our bus. He returned my pass unpunched. I got down from the bus at the next stop and boarded bus no. 203.  I was very happy. Neither had the conductor gifted me something precious nor was he the special person in my life. But the little bit of information he shared was smacked with care and love. This was enough to elate me. If all of us become like him we will fill this earth with happiness up to its brim.

The Seed

I am writing about #MyRoleModel as a part of the activity by Gillette India in association with BlogAdda.com.

I believe people inspire you even by their subtle acts. As a school going boy I was walking on the road. An elderly man was quietly standing by the side of the road. I went to ask him if he needed any help. He replied in the affirmative and asked me if I had any water. I removed the water bottle from my schoolbag. It was hot outside. The sun was scorching heat. I thought the old man must be thirsty. He took my bottle. He opened it and took some water in the cap of the bottle. He stooped down with the bottle in his one hand and cap into the other. There was a tiny bird on the side of the road. It was a baby which had fallen from its nest. The old man was caring for the bird so that no one would trample upon it and cats and dogs would not harm it. The bird squealed exposing its tender red mouth. The old man tried to put some water into its beak. The bird was happy to have the water. “It feels that his mother is around to feed him,” said the old man.

“Can I carry it to my house?” I asked the old man.

“Yes for sure. But remember it is not a toy with which you can play for some time and throw away. You will have to take care of the bird like your own baby. Do you promise to do that?”

“Yes. I promise.”

After I promised him, he placed the tiny bird in my little palms. I carried the bird to my home and placed it in a box with my old handkerchief as bedding. I fed the bird milk with a dropper. After some time the bird felt better. It walked a few steps. I was happy. I went out to play. After I returned I went to look for my baby. The box was infested with ants. My bird had died. Latter I learned that young ones of birds which fall from the nest seldom survive. Other birds ensure that they do not survive.

However, that old man had installed in me a value to care for other living beings. Many years later I did many research works regarding the protection of the environment. But that little act of the unknown old man had sowed a seed of environment protection in me. Now that it has turned into a huge tree, I express my gratitude towards him. He continues to be a constant source of inspiration for me.